Twelfth Moon (15 page)

Rising up, he covered her with his heavy body, kissing her throat, and then captured her mouth. As he kissed her, his tongue demanding and gaining entrance, down below he entered her in one smooth plunge. His deep groan mingled with her cry of pleasure, and then he was withdrawing and thrusting, again and again, picking up the pace until they were both caught in the frenzy of giving and receiving pleasure.

They were equally matched – he thrusting – she rising to meet him in a sensual battle of wills. She felt him join her as they soared together to the heavens, crashing back to earth in a maelstrom of sensations and emotions that seemed to shake the very foundations of known reality.

“Jonah!” Cadence cried, as she hung, suspended on the razor-sharp edge of climax. She then burst into a million fiery pieces. Even as her inner walls rippled with intense pleasure, she felt Jonah’s body stiffen. He grunted with one last powerful thrust, holding himself there, his body jerking with spasms as he found his release.

Jonah relaxed against her, shifting to her side and folded her in his arms. He couldn’t believe he’d been so ready so quickly after the first time. It had come on so suddenly, he’d barely been able to control himself. Was it the spell? He didn’t think so. She was such a sweet combination of vulnerability and grit and steely determination, and it was all wrapped in a siren’s body. Spell or no spell, now that he’d gotten a taste of her, he couldn’t seem to get enough.

After awhile, when his breathing had finally slowed to a more normal rhythm, he broke the silence. “I need to put more wood on the fire. It’s getting chilly.”

Cadence could barely keep her eyes open, was only able to reply with a soft grunt. “Mmm.”

He chuckled, then rose and walked, naked, to the pile of wood. He picked up several pieces, moving to set them in the fire. Cadence watched him through hooded eyes. As he’d walked away from her, she’d received a full view of his strong back, taut buttocks, and finely-shaped long legs. Now, as he knelt by the fire, the light cast a golden glow over him, turning his skin rich and molten. His long, dark hair brushed his shoulders, falling forward, concealing his profile as he performed his task.

She longed to reach out and touch him…to confirm that he was real. Not one to fall victim to romantic notions, which fit in more with her sister Jaelene’s dreamy nature, than hers, Cadence’s heart, nonetheless, skipped a beat as she studied Jonah. Was she falling in love with him? Had she already done so? She had yet to explain everything to him – including one very important detail – which was that she had the ability to change into a black panther.

He barely accepted her as it is, was just coming around to believing Twelfth Moon was real. And even then, she wasn’t completely sure his attraction to her was genuine, and not generated by the effects of the spell. How could she expect him to give up his career, his life, for her? That’s what he would have to do in order for them to be together. It didn’t matter if she was in love with him or not. She’d have to let him go. She’d have to accept the consequences of her actions, allow him to enjoy a normal, happy life.

As she watched, her thoughts were interrupted by a disturbance in the air around him. It began to ripple and pulse, reminding her of an elusive, shimmering mirage. Then the bubble expanded outward, formed a thick tentacle and began snaking toward her. She stared, unable to move as it came closer and closer. Locked in place, she could do nothing as it surrounded her, encasing her in its warmth. Her chest felt heavy, making it difficult to breathe, her heart thumping madly.

Time seemed to slow and come to a halt. She could see that the flames of the fire, which had been flickering so vigorously a moment ago, were now frozen. Jonah had become a living statue, his body rigid and unmoving, his arm, stick in hand, suspended over the fire. There was no sound, except for her pulse beating in her ears, as several seconds ticked by. It felt like so much longer, when finally the bubble dissipated. She sucked in a deep breath, releasing it in a soft whoosh. The experience left her trembling and sweating, the knowledge that she was now irrevocably bound to Jonah Kincaid, firmly embedded in every cell of her body.

Everything went back to normal. Jonah returned as though nothing unusual had happened, lying down next to her, covering them both with the blanket. He took her in his arms, guiding her head to his shoulder. “You’re shivering.” He pulled her closer, fitting her against is body. “Is something wrong?”

She snuggled further into his warmth. “I’ll be fine. It’s just been a long day.”

After a long hesitation, Cadence felt his chest rise as he took a deep breath, so it came as no surprise when he spoke. “Is…is there anything else…about this spell that you haven’t told me?”

Apparently he believed in getting directly to the point, she mused wryly. Did he suspect, or was he merely showing his concern for her? Something told her he was too intelligent, too discerning and shrewd a man to go clumsily poking around for information.

“Other than the fact that it turns me into a mindless wanton, lacking the strength to control myself?” Her laugh sounded brittle even to her own ears. That was obviously no answer to his question.

“You resisted Furley well enough.”

She snorted.

“Any woman in your situation would have been helpless against a man of his size,” he explained in her defense. “Even without your unique…circumstance, it would have been almost impossible to fight him off. But you did.”

Her diversion had worked and it heartened her that he understood what she’d faced…not only because of the spell, but as a woman vulnerable to such a degrading assault. She turned in his arms and smiled at him. “I did, didn’t I?”

He gave her a gentle squeeze and kissed her forehead. The affectionate gesture almost brought tears to her eyes, but she held them back. “Yes, you did, Little Hellcat. Now go to sleep. If you’re not worn out from riding all day with that fat slob, then you must be plum tuckered out from what we just did.”

She felt a hot flush creep up her neck at the reminder of their mating and was grateful for the shadows that hid it. “Don’t you go getting full of yourself, now, Marshal,” she said irritably, bristling when he chuckled in response.

Cadence closed her eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep. When she opened them again, she was surprised to see that it was morning, the sky brightening with the imminent sunrise. Jonah lay flush against her back, keeping her warm, his arm draped heavily over her waist. Her bottom fit snuggly against his groin and she could feel the hard ridge of his manhood pressing insistently into her soft flesh. Just when she was contemplating the merits of waking like this, his body stiffened, his arm tightening around her waist.

That’s when she noticed the three Indian braves. They stood over her and Jonah in a semi-circle, pointing deadly-looking spears at them. She gasped.

Jonah held her still when she tried to sit up. “Don’t move,” he whispered in her ear.

“Daanzhonl Da. Good morning.”

The deep voice immediately drew Cadence’s attention to the one in the middle. His dark eyes were fixed intensely on her. “We have come to speak with the woman who holds much magic.”

Eleven

THE WOMAN WHO
holds much magic?
To Cadence, even though the Indian’s tone was polite, his expression remained stoic while he and his two companions had yet to remove the threat of their spears. And the one who’d spoken continued to stare intently at her. In fact, all three of them were. Did they know who – and what – she was?

All three men were unusually tall, with handsome, chiseled features, their long black hair falling well past their shoulders. Each brave had braided their hair in different fashions, adorning it with colorful beads and feathers. Their deerskin tunics appeared soft, with intricate beaded designs sewn by some talented hand, but the garments couldn’t hide the muscled contours beneath them. A square of deerskin hung down from underneath their tunics, in the front and back, almost reaching their knees. Under that, they wore fringed leggings.

They were not what Cadence would have expected – as Indians went. They didn’t look savage, or bloodthirsty, or evil. They just seemed cautious – and arrogant. “What do you want?” she asked carefully. Jonah tightened his hold on her.

“Do not be afraid,” the middle Indian said in accented English. “My name is Ba'cho Gian-nah-tah.” He turned his head slightly to the left. “This is my brother, Nah-kah-yen.” Then he indicated to his right. “And my other brother, Too-ah-yay-say.”

Ba'cho spoke a strange word, obviously meant for his brothers. He seemed to be the one in charge. Immediately they raised their spears, holding them upright, the sharp ends pointed toward the sky. He then addressed Jonah and Cadence with an air of command. “You will dress and come with us.”

One of the brothers shot a strange look at Ba'cho. They spoke in their own language, the other brother joining in. It seemed as though they were arguing. Then Ba'cho gave a short, quick nod. “We will do as you ask, but be quick about it.”

As they turned around, Cadence caught a glimpse of copper skin high up on Ba'cho’s hip, an area not covered by the leggings. His brothers were likewise dressed. It was such strange clothing, she couldn’t help but stare. She was surprised to note the absence of any sexual interest at the sight of so much virile masculinity, and yet Jonah’s proximity caused her body to hum with renewed desire. It must be because she’d already made her choice – Jonah was her mate now. No other man would draw her attention in that way.

Jonah made a noise beside her and she turned to look at him. He seemed perturbed. “Are you enjoying the view?” he murmured low, reaching for their clothes. He looked over her shirt, noticed the missing buttons and handed her his.

Was he jealous? Cadence’s heart fluttered. She hastily slipped the shirt over her head, catching the glimmer of heat in his silver eyes just before her breasts were covered. She inhaled through her nose, noting with pleasure how the soft flannel material smelled of him. “They’re just so strangely dressed,” she said as they both began tugging on their trousers beneath the blankets. “So different than what I’m used to. Have you ever seen such tall Indians?”

“No,” Jonah answered quietly. “I’m not sure what tribe they’re from. I don’t recognize them.”

Just as Jonah and Cadence finished dressing, although Jonah was still shirtless, Ba'cho and his brothers turned around without any warning. Apparently the braves felt they had allowed enough time. Jonah stood, helping Cadence to her feet. Together they faced the three braves.

“We are
Tche Shä,
Sun Otter People, of the Jicarilla Apache,” Ba'cho said, obviously having heard Jonah and Cadence speaking.

“Apache?” Jonah asked in surprise.

Cadence studied the tall Indian. He stood with relaxed confidence, masculinity rippling off him in waves. She may have already chosen her mate, but she wasn’t completely immune to this man’s allure. “You are very…unusual.”

Ba'cho grinned. He was extremely handsome. Cadence wondered if she would have been able to resist him had she come across him before she’d met Jonah. “We are an unusual tribe,” he said, still grinning. “Come. Pack your things quickly and we will be on our way.”

“We have been searching for
you
, Ndołkah,” Ba'cho said in stilted English, his dark gaze on Cadence.

“Me?” Cadence exclaimed. “Why me, and what is it you just called me?”

“It is the word my people use,” Ba'cho said, not really answering her question. “All will be revealed when we reach our village. You must come with us now – you and your mate.”

“
Mate?
” Jonah growled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Ba'cho’s expression was enigmatic as he studied Jonah for a moment. Then he grunted low, saying, “It is time to go.”

Jonah made a sound of disgust. He turned toward Cadence, leaning in close to her ear. “I don’t think we’re in any danger,” he said low. “For now, we have no choice but to do as they say.”

Cadence nodded, worried about what this could all mean, sensing that there was more to what Ba'cho wanted than just to talk to her.

Jonah dug in his saddle bags for an extra shirt and pulled it on. Behind him, Cadence watched with avid interest. The muscles in his back bunched and flexed with his movements like living, sculpted clay. She sighed softly, lamenting the covering up of such a glorious expanse of skin and muscle.

She joined him as he began to move around the camp, packing up their things under the watchful eyes of the three braves. There was only Jonah’s horse, so once he was mounted, he gave her an arm to help her up. When she tried to swing her leg over the back, he maneuvered her with amazing ease, settling her in front of him. He held her there with a strong arm at her waist.

Jonah leaned forward, his mouth close to her ear. “This is where I want you.” The timbre of his low voice, combined with the unmistakable possessiveness of his words, sent a delicious shiver down her spine.

Cadence felt safe cradled against Jonah’s strong body, his arms on either side of her providing an added sense of protection as he held the reigns. It was a silly sentiment, really. She was able to protect herself by simply changing into the panther, yet somehow, since their coupling and she’d witnessed the forging of the bond between them, she’d begun to change. She had softened…become less aggressive…more…amenable to his male tendency to dominate.