Wild Innocence (19 page)

It was peaceful on the river. There was only a light breeze, and the ripples created by the air currents were quite lovely. The breeze transformed the water, rustled the forest treetops, and teased Rachel's unbound hair. Black Hawk handled the canoe easily, expertly. Rachel closed her eyes to better enjoy the physical sensations and the sounds of day's ride. The breeze felt wonderful on her skin. The warmth of the sun caressed her face. Birdsong filled the air from a treetop, and nearby she heard the buzz of an insect.

Black Hawk was silent, as if he, too, was enjoying the moment of peace. The only sound he made was that of the canoe paddle being dipped into the water. And Rachel imagined she could hear the rhythmic sound of Black Hawk's breathing.

All too soon the end of the canoe bumped slightly against the shore, then slid farther upland. Rachel opened her eyes, and her peace was shattered as she watched Black Hawk pull the canoe until the bulk of the craft was on dry land. Then, he held out his hand to assist her.

As his fingers surrounded hers, Rachel's hand tingled. He pulled her up into the forest and released her. Despite the coolness of the shade, with Black Hawk so close, Rachel felt a searing heat.

She glanced at him briefly to see if he had sensed her strong reaction to him, but he had already turned away.

“Come,” he said, and urged her to follow him a short distance.

Glad to have something to do, Rachel fell into step behind him. Her curiosity was piqued as he stopped before a thick grove of small trees. He parted branches for her and gestured for her to walk through.

As she entered the secluded clearing, Rachel felt as if she'd stepped into a private fairyland. The place was lush and quiet but for the sound of water that she couldn't see. A beam of sunlight shot through a hole in the leafy canopy above, lighting up the clearing and the wildflowers that added a splash of color. Struck by the beauty, Rachel faced Black Hawk with the intention of thanking him for bringing her here.

But once again, he was not studying his surroundings. He looked at her with an intensity that brought Rachel a hot shaft of pleasure tinged with a tingle of nervous excitement.

“Come,” he said, offering her his hand.

She didn't hesitate in placing her fingers within his grasp. She felt it—his desire for her. Since she felt desire, too, she couldn't deny that she was glad he had brought her here.

He chose a spot in the sunlight for them to sit. Rachel sat down beside him and then studied the clearing, conscious of the fact that she was more interested in the man beside her.

“You are quiet, Rach-el,” he said softly.

She nodded. “It's lovely here.” Her skin tingled with anticipation.

“Ina.
Yes.”

“You said it's been a long time since you've been here.” How many women had he brought here before her? she wondered.

“I used to come here to think of serious village matters. As war chief, I have decisions to make, decisions that affect the welfare of my people. I do not take this responsibility lightly.”

Rachel was not only surprised by his answer, but also pleased. There had been no other women with him here, she decided. Then it dawned on her what he'd just told her. That he came here to this secret place when he was troubled . . . that he cared a lot for his people and wished to do nothing that would jeopardize their lives. He was not a savage who killed ruthlessly, but a man who, unless provoked, thought carefully about what he was doing before he did it.

Which meant that he'd thought about it before deciding to bring her here. She was flattered.

“This is a good place to think,” she said.

“It is a good place for many things. I have not done what I want to do most.”

Curious, she looked at him. “Oh? What is that?”

His dark eyes burned as he caught her shoulders and turned her to face him. His gaze fell to her mouth, and she inhaled sharply, with pleasure, as he lowered his head and placed his mouth on her lips.

Fire shot through her body. She moaned softly beneath his kiss, opening her mouth in an invitation to further the intimacy between them.

She wove her fingers into his silky hair, holding him to her firmly, arching her neck and groaning with pleasure when he trailed his mouth down her chin to her throat. When his tongue touched the soft swell of her breast where the lace ties of her tunic had loosened, Rachel gasped and shuddered. She didn't object when he pressed her back to the soft earth. She clutched at his shoulders, then ran her hands beneath his leather vest.

Black Hawk raised up and removed his vest, and Rachel murmured her approval, sighing with pleasure, when he lowered himself against her length. Only her tunic and his loincloth separated the increasing heat of their desire.

Black Hawk cupped her head and nibbled on her lips, then raised on his hands to gaze into her eyes.

“Black Hawk . . .”

“You are bright like the sun and soft as the gentle rain,” he murmured. “You are warmth like fire, yet as smooth as ice.”

“And you are strong as the earth yet gentle as a summer's breeze,” she replied.

“Let me touch you.”

Holding his gaze, she nodded. “If you want to.”

“I want,” he said huskily. He rolled off her and reached for her tunic's hem.

She gasped as he began to raise the bottom edge of her doeskin dress. She felt the breeze caress her knees and thighs. She experienced a flutter of alarm as the tunic was lifted higher until she was bare below the waist. She closed her eyes.

“Gaawiin,
Rach-el. You are beautiful. Please look at me.”

She opened her eyes and saw something in his gaze that stirred her beyond fear to desire, beyond desire to something more.

“I've never . . .” she began.

He nodded. “Do not be afraid. I will not hurt you.”

She blinked. “You do not frighten me.”

She trembled when his hand moved to touch her. When his fingers settled on her stomach, her belly quivered under his touch.

“You are smooth, Rach-el.”

She gazed at him, mesmerized by his look and caresses.

“You are white here. Here, my hand looks dark against you.”

She nodded.

“If I raise your tunic, will you be pale there, too?”

Rachel swallowed hard. Her heart pounded with anticipation. “Yes.”

He smiled. “Let me see.”

She sat up, no longer afraid of what she was feeling. She wanted more of his attention, of his touch. She started to struggle free of her tunic.

“No,” he said, stopping her.

Her startled gaze moved to gauge his reaction. She flushed a bright red. She felt like a wanton. Had she misread his desire?

“Lie back,” he told her. “I want to kiss you.”

Her alarm passed, and she offered him a slow smile.

He bent his head, and she cried out in shock as his mouth settled not on her lips but on her belly, where he began to explore the smoothness of her white skin.

“Black Hawk!” she cried when his head dipped lower.

But he continued on relentlessly until Rachel was lost in a whirlwind of mindless pleasure.

She was so lovely. He hadn't expected her to be so breathtakingly beautiful in her passion. Black Hawk rose up to look into Rachel's glistening green eyes. His gaze fell to her mouth, and the urge to possess those sweet pink lips was strong. He bent his head, touched his tongue to her lips, and felt a jolt in his loins when she opened for him. She met him tongue-thrust for tongue-thrust, clutching his head as they devoured each other.

He was laboring for breath when he raised his head. He looked down at her quivering white belly, and had to touch there again.

“Black Hawk,” she whispered.

He lifted his hand from her stomach to caress her cheek. The scent of her was intoxicating, a mixture of wildflowers and a fragrance that was hers alone. He buried his face in her neck to absorb the smell, enjoying the silky texture of her hair on his cheek and chin.

He wanted to make love to her. To bury himself deep inside and hear her wild cry echo about the isolated forest glen, but he held back. She was an innocent. He had tasted it on her lips, felt it in her reaction to his touch. She was wild innocence, and she was everything and more than he'd ever wanted in a mate.

But she couldn't be his mate, he thought. He couldn't take a mate. He had a quest to find his father's killer, and now he was equally determined to find Clouds-at-Morning.

Black Hawk knew he should leave Rachel alone, but he was unable to keep from touching her, kissing her, enjoying the passion that brought a flush to her skin and a glazed brightness to her green eyes.

When her hands started to move over him, he groaned aloud and fell victim to her caresses. Her tentative touch grew bolder, sliding over his shoulders and across his back, then circling to his chest, where she rubbed his nipples until they hardened and peaked.

He caught her hands to stop her, and instead of releasing her, he drew her fingers to his lips. He heard her sharp intake of breath, and smiled.

She smiled back at him, then closed her eyes and moaned softly when he placed her hands above her head, then kissed a path down each arm until he could turn his attention to her face . . . her neck.

Rachel gasped as Black Hawk worked pure magic on her senses. Her nipples pebbled beneath her tunic, and she wanted suddenly to be free of the garment. He released her hands, and she waited with anticipation to see what he would do next. She hoped that he would touch her breasts, which were tingling with life in their longing for him.

He kissed her mouth, so sweetly, so gently, that Rachel felt tears well in her eyes.

“I love you.” The admission burst out of her as he trailed a path of kisses down her throat toward her breasts.

He froze, and she caught his head, encouraging him to continue his journey of pleasure.

Still, he didn't remove her tunic. In a wild burst of longing, Rachel sat up and the tunic hem fell to cover her as she worked to untie the garment's strings. Black Hawk's fingers settled on her hand, stopping her.

“Rach-el.”

She looked at him, pleased at his expression of intense longing. But something in his eyes shifted, alerting her to a change in Black Hawk's mood. “Touch me,” she urged him.

He glanced down toward her breasts where her nipples strained against the tunic.

“Please,” she whispered.

She cried out with joy as he placed his hand in the opening of her garment, cupped a breast, and lifted it free.

He rubbed his thumb across her nipple, making her whimper and gasp. “Beautiful,” he said huskily.

“Kiss me,” she pleaded.

And he took her into his mouth, sucking the nipple until she had to hold on to him for balance.

The attention he paid to her breast seemed to go on and on, bringing her more pleasure, until her abdomen ached and she felt the desire to be fully possessed by him.

Just when she thought she would slump, feeling weak, to the ground, he replaced her breast inside the tunic, then reached for its twin. The pleasure started anew, building and building, until Rachel thought she'd surely faint from it.

She wasn't quite sure how it happened, but somehow in the midst of their passion, they'd removed their clothes. She vaguely remembered reaching to help him with hers, then caressing his chest while he untied and removed his loincloth.

When his last garment was gone, Rachel gazed lovingly at Black Hawk; then her eyes widened as she looked down.

“Oh, my!” she gasped. For he was glorious, big and male, and she was a virgin who wondered if she could take him.

He pressed her to the ground, and she rejoiced in his weight, in the burning heat of his skin. She was startled to feel him stir between her legs, but it felt good. She opened to accommodate him.

Black Hawk was driven beyond pleasure to the point of pain. Suddenly, who he was and the past didn't matter. The only memory, the only thought, was the woman beneath him and in his arms.

When she opened her legs and arched her back in invitation, he gritted his teeth and waited. He wanted to see her soar alone, before they flew together high into the heavens.

He reached down to stir her pleasure, and felt a wondrous satisfaction when he saw the shock on her face before she cried out with joy. It had never felt like this before, he realized. This was power, possession, and passion. This was strength, feeling, and ... love.

“No!” he growled even as he felt his body acting on its own, thrusting deep to further possess and love. “No!”

She cried out and stiffened. Then she was kissing him, his face, his neck. She drew her legs about his waist and offered up her innocence.

Pleased by the gift, Black Hawk groaned as pure physical sensation took over. Rachel cried out in ecstasy. Black Hawk roared his pleasure to the sky as he sank deeply into her softness one last earth-shattering time.

When it was over, Rachel lay with his weight heavy upon her, but she loved it. She enjoyed the closeness, caressing his back and shoulders, running her fingers through his long hair. He hadn't made a sound since it had happened, but she didn't mind. She had heard his cry of release, felt his body straining to join fully in glorious wonder.
I love him,
she thought. How could she have imagined a future without him? She'd been a virgin, but she didn't regret that at all.

She recalled her dream, the one in which Black Hawk had appeared, claiming to share her destiny. Had he had similar dreams? She knew that the Indians put great stock in the power of dreams. Visions, they called them.

She had loved Jordan, but this feeling she had for Black Hawk was different. It was more intense; it consumed her every waking and sleeping moment. Every minute he wasn't with her, he was in her thoughts, teasing her memory, stirring up fantasies in her mind.

Did he feel the same way? He'd said he had much to do for his people. He'd told her that he could not take a wife while there was much in his life that held his attention.

But couldn't she help him? Make him see that some things weren't as important as one sometimes thought?

Then she recalled what she'd learned about his childhood, the terrible things that he'd seen. How horrible for a child to see his father murdered! She shivered and hugged him tightly. She wished she could do something to soften the memory. She'd wished she'd been there for the little boy.

Black Hawk stirred and rolled to her side. She stifled a cry of disappointment, as she didn't want him to leave her. She turned to him, hoping he'd take her into his arms again, to snuggle. But he lay on his back, without touching her, his arm across his eyes, as his breathing became steadier.

As she watched the rise and fall of his magnificent naked chest, she recalled the sound of his heartbeat after they'd made love.

Her fingers itched to touch him again, but she resisted the urge. “Black Hawk?”

He shifted, raising his arm a little to peer at her. She felt a sudden chill when he didn't smile or speak.

Unable to help herself, she touched his arm, trailing her fingers to his chest, down farther to his stomach. He was still naked, and his manhood was slightly swollen, nestled within its bed of dark curls. She felt a rich surge of lust as her gaze lingered. His shaft started to harden, and fire shot through her, dampening her once again.

She lifted her glance to find that he'd dropped his arm to stare at her.

“Rach-el.” He reached out a hand to catch her head and bring it down so he could kiss her.

Despite his growing desire, he was gentle with her mouth. His gentleness only increased her passion, until she was pressed against him, driving her tongue between his lips.

They kissed hotly, and Rachel moved against him, wanting him to love her once again, but Black Hawk ended the kiss. With a light caress on her cheek, he stood and began to dress.

“Black Hawk?” She was hurt that he didn't want to make love with her again.

“We must get back. My people will be looking for me.”

“But I thought you said that Spring Blossom . . .”

“We have been gone a long time,” he told her.

“Oh,” she said weakly, averting her gaze. “I see.” Suddenly she felt ashamed of her nakedness. She rose and dressed quickly, anxious to shield herself from his gaze. Apparently, the experience they'd just shared was not new for him, nor was it as meaningful to him as it was to her.

She had slipped on her tunic, and was fumbling with the ties when Black Hawk's fingers touched her hands. His expression was grave. “Let me help,” he said.

Shaking her head, she turned away. No, she thought. I
don't
need
any
help! Men
aren't
to be trusted.
I shouldn't
have forgotten, but I did.

She wanted him to be different. But the way he'd used her, then cast her aside, hurt. It pained her more than Jordan's betrayal.
For I gave you, Black Hawk, more than I've given any man.
She blinked against tears. Well, she was the foolish one, wasn't she? Black Hawk had warned her, but she had fallen in love with him anyway.

I'll
not make the same mistake!
she thought.
I'll not allow myself to be hurt this way again.

Then, she heard it ... the sound of someone calling them in the distance.

She glanced in Black Hawk's direction and saw that he'd heard it, too. He looked concerned; in fact, he looked worried.

“What is it?” she asked, anxiety temporarily misplacing the pain. “What's wrong?”

He shook his head. “We must go.”

He waited only a second to ensure that she followed him. Within minutes they were back in the canoe and heading toward the village.

“Black Hawk!”

As the canoe glided across the water and closer to the the village lay, Black Hawk identified the cry. It was Spring Blossom's. He frowned and increased his paddle strokes.

When Daniel Trahern's voice rose to join Black Hawk's sister in the search, Black Hawk tensed. He knew instinctively then that something was terribly wrong.

 

 

“No!”

Black Hawk saw Rachel's face whiten as she heard the news. The Sioux had kidnapped her father.

“It's all my fault!” she cried, swaying on her feet.

“It is not your fault, Rachel,” Daniel said quietly. “You did nothing to encourage this man's interest.”

“He's taken Father because of me,” she insisted. “If I hadn't come, Clouds-at-Morning would never have seen me. He wouldn't have kidnapped Father!”

“Rachel,” Amelia said, looking shaken and pale. “Please don't blame yourself. We know what these Sioux are like. We can only hope and pray that Runs-with-the-Wind, one of their own kind, will help us.”

But Rachel was too upset to listen to reason. She had been feeling particularly vulnerable as she and Black Hawk had taken the canoe down and across the river. The memory of their joining lingered on her mind. The passion. The heady power. The hot, searing fire of Black Hawk's kiss. Then, there had been his reluctance to love her a second time, and the pain of being rejected by him.

The news of her father's kidnapping, compounded by her vulnerability with Black Hawk, had done her in.

“I have to go to him. They'll let him go if I do what they say.”

“No!” It was Black Hawk who objected.

“Yes!” she cried. “Don't you see that it's the only way to save his life!”

“You will not save his life,” he told her. “They will not release him because you want it. They will keep him as they will keep you. Then you both will be prisoners of the Sioux.”

Rachel shook her head, not wanting to believe it. “No,” she whispered.

“Rachel, Black Hawk is right,” Daniel said. He spoke more softly than he'd ever spoken to her before. “I love John like my own father, but I agree that sacrificing yourself won't accomplish what you think.”

“Then what can I do?”

Black Hawk touched her arm, and she nearly bolted from the sensation of warmth. “We will rescue your father. We will think of a plan.”

She looked at him, then at Daniel with hope. “You will?” She decided she'd go to the Sioux if it proved the only way.

Daniel nodded. “We'll have help. Lots of it. We'll let you know what we decide.”

“But you will go soon?” Rachel said. “You won't wait too long?” She was frightened that something dreadful would happen to her father. She had expected Clouds-at-Morning to come for her. She hadn't suspected that he would use her father to ensure that she consented to be his wife.

“Clouds knows I've been hiding from him,” Rachel said miserably.