Warrior in Her Bed (7 page)

It sounded believable enough to her ears, but Johnny didn't look at all persuaded. He glared at her, making Annie feel as if she had somehow trapped the poor man into doing something against his wishes.

For his part, Johnny couldn't understand why the words he told himself he wanted to hear sounded like a razor blade scraping against his eardrums.

“I'm not worried about anything,” he averred.

Nothing, that is, except how the tribal council that oversees Dream Catchers might feel about me sleeping with a member of the faculty. Or how my sister might perceive it as sleeping with the enemy. Not to
mention that touchy little matter of how afraid I am of falling in love with anyone again, let alone with someone who is clearly so wrong for me. Someone who is bound to blow out of my life just as quickly and furiously as she blew in. Like a white tornado.

For, as temporarily diverting as her short stay on an Indian reservation might prove to be, Johnny knew it was highly unlikely that a well-educated, single Anglo woman raised with solid middle-class values such as Annie would consciously choose it as a permanent destination. Which was just as well, he supposed. The emotional scars of an impoverished childhood, the devastation of war and a broken heart had left him unwilling to even consider another romantic relationship.

“You don't strike me as the type to go in for clandestine summertime flings,” he observed, taking the focus off himself and putting it squarely where it belonged—on her slender shoulders.

Annie was quick to respond. “I'm not.”

For a woman who had spent the past six years preaching to teenage girls about the dangers of having sex in any kind of uncommitted relationship, it seemed utterly incongruous that she was lying naked here beside a man she barely knew. Why she couldn't bring herself to feel ashamed was less a tribute to her sense of independence than it was to the fact that sex with Johnny Lonebear was nothing short of incredible. It was, in fact, so unbelievably good that even in a sated state, Annie couldn't help wonder if she shouldn't ask for an encore performance just to prove that it wasn't only her long abstinence from sex that had made her supersensitive to the experience.

“Well then where do we go from here?” she asked instead.

“Back to work, I guess.”

“As friends?”

The implications of either a yes or a no answer placed her between the pointed horns of a dilemma. Annie tried imagining a more awkward situation and simply couldn't. She could almost hear Sigmund Freud laughing in the background. As nonchalant as she might want to seem about this mind-blowing sex, Annie knew that it was going to be hard enough coping with Johnny Lonebear in her dreams let alone on a daily basis at work. In the flesh.

“Of course as friends,” he growled. “What else?”

As Johnny worked to disentangle himself from her, Annie couldn't help but notice that he didn't seem nearly as disturbed as she was by the likelihood of bumping into her on a regular basis at their shared place of employment. Ruefully, she reminded herself that men didn't seem to have much difficulty walking away from her. Determined to never again play the part of the simpering fool by appealing to a man's sense of decency and honor, she kept her chin proudly tipped up and her voice steady.

What good did it do to remind herself never to put herself in the position of ever becoming a one-night stand again?

The difference this time was that she had not been pressured into something she wasn't ready for. Not to mention that she was older and wiser now and thereby better able to handle rejection more graciously than when she had been a starry-eyed teen
ager who believed that marriage proposals automatically accompanied the loss of one's virginity.

Feigning a sophisticated air, Annie hoped to regain a modicum of dignity while at the same time alleviating any fears Johnny was harboring about her stalking him in the future. If those rumors Jewell had passed on to her were true, Johnny Lonebear had plenty of experience dumping the women he bedded—as well as the children those unions produced. Fighting the sense of nausea that that particular thought evoked, Annie had to give him credit for making progress in that respect.

To her chagrin, Johnny had been the one to insist on protection, not her.

“Of course as a friend,” she repeated, forcing a smile. “As opposed to some little hussy you might think about pulling into the janitor's closet at work and having a quickie between classes.”

“No?”

Annie had never seen a scowl turn into such a devastating smile so quickly. A twinkle illuminated the depths of Johnny's dark eyes with unexpected mirth as he paused in the midst of searching for his underwear to ask, “Are you sure that's such a bad idea?”

Desire unfurled inside Annie overriding her indignation and making her all too aware of her vulnerability to this man. It appeared that her rusty sex drive was definitely in working order after all. But rather than admit that the idea actually held forbidden appeal, Annie responded by throwing a pillow at him. Too surprised to duck, Johnny was caught off guard.

“Hey!” he called out in an offended tone that be
lied the softness of the projectile that had taken him unawares.

Once again abandoning the clothes strewn on the floor, Johnny approached Annie with a pillow behind his back. The intention of paying her back in full was clearly written all over his face. Any somberness between them disappeared as the mood suddenly became playful. Rolling off the other side of the bed and onto the floor, Annie attempted to escape retribution unscathed. She wasn't quite quick enough, however. With what could pass as a war whoop, Johnny threw himself on top of her, pinning her between the bed and the wall. Annie shrieked in protest.

“Before I ravish you again,” he said, “I just have one question.”

He touched a fingertip to the end of her nose. She squirmed beneath him, finding this game incredibly erotic. Feeling the length of his manhood pressed against her thigh, she could tell without a doubt that he did, too.

“What question is that?” she asked, her voice husky with wanting him all over again.

“What exactly is a hussy?”

Annie punched him in the arm. The sound of her laughter filled up not only the sunny little bedroom but also the empty space in Johnny's heart. The fact that she employed such a tactful word to express her concern greatly amused him. Not having spent much time around women who suffered from such ladylike qualms, he wasn't quite sure how to reassure her that she was the farthest thing from a hussy he'd ever had the good fortune to bump into. He seriously doubted whether mentioning how tight and decidedly sweet
she was in bed was the proper way to approach the subject.

“Just so you know,” he told her, considering her beauty through his own eyelashes that caught the sunlight and transformed Annie into the most enchanting creature he had ever seen. Bedecked in natural sparkles, she seemed a fairy princess. “I've had my fair share of hussies. If you don't mind, I think I'd like to spend some time getting to know a good woman for a change.”

A
lthough it was the oddest compliment Annie had ever received, it nevertheless made her feel like bursting into song. That Johnny Lonebear wasn't the type to gush poetic was perfectly fine with her. The truth of the matter was she had a hard time trusting men who spouted romantic platitudes. Sweet nothings held little appeal for a straight shooter such as herself. The last thing Annie was looking for was the kind of glib flatterer who, once upon another lifetime, had robbed her of her virginity and subsequently stolen her dignity. As far as she was concerned, Johnny's plain-spoken honesty more than made up for his lack of eloquence.

For all the feministic rhetoric to which Annie truly subscribed, she did not want this man to believe her to be loose with her affections. That he saw her as a good woman pleased her more than she cared to an
alyze at the moment. Perhaps it was because, despite her degree in counseling, she still doubted herself occasionally. She still berated herself for the foolish choices of her youth that continued to haunt her as a grown woman. That Johnny actually wanted to pursue a genuine relationship with her, albeit a short-lived one, given that she would be here only for the summer, made Annie feel better about her decision to become intimate with him.

Of course, that didn't mean she was about to read any more into their relationship than he was offering. At the present time she wasn't looking for a lifelong commitment any more than he was. Just because his scars were more visible than hers didn't mean she had no wounds of her own. Nor did she have any desire to compromise her relationship with his niece—or Johnny's with his family, for that matter.

Clearly the smartest thing to do would be to break things off cleanly now while they were still friends.

Before anyone got hurt.

Unfortunately, Annie feared, it was already too late for that. Whatever an outside observer might think, she was not the type to jump in and out of bed with just anybody. Granted, the physical reaction between Johnny and her was stronger than anything she had ever felt before. Still, had she no feelings beyond simple lust, Annie undoubtedly would have found the strength to resist her animal instincts. The trouble was that she truly liked Johnny.

Their physical union had done more to alleviate the ache in her chest that had sent her into self-imposed exile in the wilds of Wyoming. Flashbacks still occurred at the most inopportune times: the sight
of a baby nestled in a mother's arms, a pregnant teenager, the sound of mocking laughter….

Annie squeezed her eyes shut.

So far the only thing powerful enough to blot out those awful memories was the feel of Johnny's lips upon hers. Still wedged between the bed and the wall where he had her pinned, she felt safer and happier beneath this strong, enigmatic man than anywhere else in the world. Annie wasn't ready to give up those feelings before she absolutely had to. She hoped that by virtue of association, his strength would somehow rub off on her, and she would emerge from their tenuous relationship more resilient and sure of her place in the world.

Johnny kissed her eyelids softly, bringing Annie back to the present with gentleness that moistened her long lashes. She blinked back unexpected tears.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked, assuming that certain tone that men have of accepting blame for whatever unintended slight they had committed just to keep the peace.

“No,” Annie assured him with a sultry smile. “You haven't done anything wrong. Except for keeping me pinned here beneath you without doing anything to press your advantage.”

An ember of lust banked in Johnny's dark eyes leaped to life at the challenge. “Is that so?”

Annie answered by squirming enticingly beneath him, rekindling a desire hot enough to scorch everything in its path. She didn't have to try very hard to make him want her as much as she wanted him again. Impressed by his stamina, she arched her back and murmured his name as though it were a prayer
upon her lips. His arms tightened around her possessively.

Surprised at the intensity of their longing when both had just acknowledged how completely satisfied they were following the lovemaking that had rocked their respective worlds to the core, they nonetheless embarked on yet another wild, insatiable ride.

This time they didn't even bother with the bed.

 

Working together proved far less uncomfortable than Annie had first imagined. Jewell had told her that Johnny Lonebear was a consummate professional, and in the days that followed he proved it. For the most part their paths took different turns during the day, but Johnny did make a point to stop by at least once a day to say hello. These meetings were not at all as confrontational as the first time he had invaded her classroom and openly challenged her authority. Annie's students genuinely seemed to welcome his presence, as he was a popular authority figure in their lives. Most were eager to share their progress with the local hero who took such personal interest in each and every one of them.

“I told you he's just a big old teddy bear once you get to know him,” Crimson Dawn reminded her teacher.

Annie couldn't help but smile. So far she had managed to walk a tightrope in respect to Johnny's precocious niece. Looking at the quality of her work, she knew it wouldn't be long before Crimson Dawn would need no one to tell her just how talented she really was. When that fateful day occurred, Annie hoped she was far, far away from the contentious mother who surely would be looking to blame some
one else for her daughter's desire to spread her wings beyond the borders of the reservation where she had been raised. Surely the most readily available target would be the meddlesome white woman whom Ester already believed had put that foolish idea into her head in the first place.

As tempting as it was to think about putting such ugly altercations behind her, lately Annie found herself wishing that her position at Dream Catchers was more permanent. As nice as it was to think about avoiding unpleasantness, it made her sad to think about leaving behind so many people who had come to mean so much to her in such a short time. How rewarding it would be to actually watch her students grow up and to become a real part of their lives.

How intriguing to think about becoming a genuine part of Johnny's life, rather than some meaningless summer fling that he would likely forget before the dust settled behind her little blue coupe come the first of September.

A woman who had spent the better part of the last decade subjugating her physical needs to her intellect, Annie was at a loss to explain her seemingly insatiable desire for a man who was clearly so totally wrong for her. Despite her own admonitions to Johnny, she found herself wishing that he really would pull her into some nearby closet and ravish her between classes. Every time she thought about making love to him, Annie's body betrayed her. Her fair complexion was a gauge of her feelings at any given moment, and her pulse was as skittish as a jackrabbit. Annie didn't think she had blushed so much since the high school speech class that her mother had insisted she take.

Annie herself had come to look forward to Johnny's daily visits to her classroom with an eagerness that she feared would give them both away. For the past month they had been seeing each other every single chance they could. Morning, noon and night, Johnny took up most of her thoughts. That preoccupation had already cost her more than one expensive piece of stained glass. A meticulous crafts-woman, Annie was embarrassed to think that a bad case of runaway hormones might endanger the completion of the dream catcher mosaic she was working on for the school's entryway.

She dismissed the idea that she might subconsciously be trying to delay its completion in the foolish hope of putting off saying a final goodbye to Johnny. Once the final piece of glass was soldered into place, the time for her to move on would be near.

Unfortunately, what she was going to do with the rest of her life remained as elusive as a Wyoming butterfly in December. Annie knew only that she was truly beginning to heal and put the past behind her. The solace of these wide-open spaces and the warmth of the people who inhabited them were balm to a heart learning how to trust all over again. Fascinated by the spirituality of the tribal culture that surrounded her, Annie was grateful to Johnny for sharing his heritage with her.

And to his people for seemingly accepting her presence without rancor.

Annie's curiosity was boundless. Like any good teacher, rather than simply telling her the answers to the myriad questions she posed, Johnny did his best to show her instead. In response to an inquiry about
how Christianity fit into native spirituality, he offered to give her a personal tour of the local mission. On one condition: she had to pack a fabulous picnic lunch for the two of them.

Annie was delighted to oblige. Along with fried chicken, potato salad, rolls, chocolate chip cookies and a bottle of wine, she packed a camera, hoping to capture not just the images that intrigued her but also the more elusive mood of the place. Everything was fodder for her intellect and artistry. She couldn't remember how long it had been since she had felt so happy, and if the only way of capturing that feeling for posterity was through a photograph, she was willing to buy as much film as it took. Over and over, she kept reminding herself that Johnny had made no promises beyond the summer. Although her head understood that perfectly, she was afraid that her heart had gone completely deaf.

Annie's students were long gone when Johnny arrived to pick her up. She was in the process of putting up the last of her supplies when his voice resonated throughout the classroom and her body. She thrummed like a guitar in the hands of a master.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

Wheeling around to acknowledge his presence, Annie could hardly keep from flying across the room and throwing herself into his arms. The erotic images that had beset her all morning long made it hard to maintain any semblance of professional demeanor.

Her voice sounded deceptively calm as she replied, “Just about.”

 

The look Annie gave him was almost enough to knock Johnny's knees out from under him. An
avowed bachelor, he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to come home to such a welcoming smile every day. An unwanted image of a passel of children greeting him amid squeals of laughter caused something in his chest to wrench painfully. It stung worse than the piece of shrapnel lodged in his back.

It hurt almost as bad as the guilt that sometimes woke him in the middle of the night. Over and over again in his dreams, he risked his life for his buddy who was killed in the line of friendly fire. Telling himself that old soldiers made poor husbands and worse fathers, he tried shaking off the renewed sense of longing for a family that Annie had rekindled in him. He had discarded that many years ago along with the Dear John letter he had received when he had been most susceptible to such yearnings.

Certainly a man with blood on his hands from the battlefield had no business contemplating such cozy fantasies. Having failed his fallen comrade when he needed him the most, Johnny worried that he would also fail a wife and children. When the tribal elders originally approached him at the end of his tour of duty with the idea for Dream Catchers, he had leaped at the opportunity, seeing in it a chance to redeem himself by leaving the world better than he had found it. What better war could a man who had thrown down his guns fight than a war to protect young people from the despair that was eroding the culture he loved?

Believing himself unsuitable marriage material, Johnny became the father figure for an entire generation. He couldn't help but be moved by the gratitude expressed by adults and children alike for the
positive influence he was making upon the youth of the reservation. Too many children with whom he worked had been abandoned by their birth fathers.

Johnny didn't have much use for such men. Having lost his parents at such a young age, he knew firsthand how desperately a child missed that influence in his life. Not that his grandmother hadn't done an admirable job in raising his sister and him, God rest her soul. He simply believed that boys in particular needed a male role model in helping shape them into men of vision and compassion. A girl needed a daddy to tell her she was beautiful both inside and out, and to encourage her to pursue her dreams without regard to any restrictions that society might put upon her.

As much as his sister resented Annie's interference in what she perceived to be a family issue, Johnny couldn't help but admire her for nurturing Crimson Dawn's dreams along with everyone else's with whom she came in contact. Seeing her in a purely lustful light did nothing whatsoever to lessen the ache that had opened in Johnny's chest at the thought of starting a family with her. If anything it intensified it. She would be as wonderful a mother as she was a teacher. Gentle and kind and encouraging. He couldn't blame his niece for being drawn to her any more than he could himself. If he had been a moth, Johnny was sure he would have already tried to immolate himself on the bright smile that Annie turned upon him.

He knew that his sister was not the only member of the tribe who frowned upon interracial dating. Johnny felt fairly certain that as long as his relationship with Annie spanned only the short length of the
summer term no one would dare approach him on the subject. Off the top of his head, he couldn't think of anyone who had such a death wish.

 

Their picnic proved as enjoyable as it was educational. Johnny spread a blanket on the football field where as a young man he had once proved his athletic prowess. Stately cottonwoods and elm trees lined the perimeter of the field, lending a sense of permanence to what at first seemed a desert mirage. In the shade of those mature trees, Johnny spun tales from his childhood that were a fanciful mix of fact and fiction.

“Without me they would have never won a single game,” he good-naturedly bragged, employing a sense of exaggeration that made Annie laugh out loud. “No, really. Hasn't anyone told you that I took us to the state championship by scoring all the points myself? Nobody could catch me back then. Still can't.”