She jerked the flap together and continued her pacing. She hoped Tajarez would come, and she was almost certain he would. She had a few choice words to say to him. She expected him to come so he could gloat over the fact that she was little more than his prisoner.
When Tajarez did come, it was with his usual silence that gave her no warning so she could prepare herself. A blast of cold air was the only thing that warned her of his presence.
Mara whirled around to face him and watched as he dropped his fur-lined wrap onto the robe and looked at her with melting ebony eyes.
"Surely you do not intend to stay here with me. I told you I would never allow you to touch me again," she said angrily. Her ire was boundless as he looked past her to the sleeping infant and dropped to his knees, regarding her discomfort with a smile playing on his lips.
"It would be too much to hope you would welcome me into your . . . bed as you did before, but nonetheless you will suffer my presence. After the threat you made today, did you think I would not come?"
"Oh, I knew you would come." Mara sank down on the fur robe and clutched her nightgown tightly across her heaving breasts. "Does my brother think so little of my virtue that he would allow you to come here in broad daylight, so all the camp will know you are spending the night with me? If you are worried that I will flee into the night you could always order Jeffery to share my tent. It would be far more appropriate. He seems only too willing to carry out your slightest command."
"I wonder which is bothering you the most. Is it the fact that my warriors will know I will be staying the night with you, or that your brother will allow it?"
"Take your choice. I have become very disillusioned with my brother, and as to what your warriors think of me, they seem to treat me as if I am not even here."
"I wonder if you are being unfair to your brother as well as to my men."
"What does it matter."
"Mara, would you prefer if I came to you by cover of night, as I did before?" he asked, as his eyes were drawn to her breasts, which were thrust forward with every breath she took.
Seeing where his eyes were resting, she grabbed a fur robe and pulled it about her shoulders, pulling it up under her chin with shaking fingers. She was disturbed by the warmth that spread through her body like wildfire.
"I would prefer it if you would not come to my tent at all," she said, horrified by the fact that her voice came out in a throaty whisper.
Tajarez began unfastening his fringed shirt, and Mara turned away quickly, not wanting to be reminded of the broad expanse of his shoulders.
"W ... what are you doing?" she asked, scrambling to her feet.
"It has never been my habit to sleep with anything on. However, I shall retain some of my clothing for your sake," he said smiling in amusement at her shyness after all that had transpired between them.
She turned her back, more upset by her own feelings toward him than by any fear of what he might do. "I will never allow you to force your unwanted attentions on me again. I will fight you with every ounce of strength I possess," she challenged him.
She had not heard him come up to her until he spoke just behind her, and she almost jumped out of her skin.
"I grow weary of this game we play, Mara." She felt his hand at the nape of her neck, and his touch sent her heartbeat soaring. "I would not need force to get you to submit to me."
No, she thought, he would not have to take her by force. All he had to do was touch her and she fell apart. She moved away from him, hoping she would never again allow him to make love to her. She turned slowly to face him, and she felt her stomach tighten into knots. He wore nothing but the white breechcloth. Against her will her eyes moved over his magnificently proportioned body. His long, powerful legs were spread slightly apart in an arrogant stance. After a sweeping assessment of his body, she lifted her eyes to his face, and found he was watching her closely. She expected some remark or even a smug look, but she read only sadness in his dark eyes. She had seen that look in his eyes once before, in her dreams, and that knowledge brought her no comfort. He was hurting; he was sad, and she needed to know the reason why. All other thoughts were pushed out of her mind as she silently watched him.
"Why are you sad? Who has caused you pain?" she asked, wanting to reach out and touch him, to give him comfort.
A mask seem to fall into place, and the look of pain was replaced with one of indifference.
"You are mistaken. Why should I be sad?"
Mara was not to be put off by his disarming remark. "You have the most expressive eyes. They speak a language of their own. I have seen the sadness, and I would like to help you if you would allow me to."
"Why? Did I not hear you say today that you loathed me?"
"I think I do not like you very well. I find you a man without honor, but still I do not like to think of anyone suffering, if I can help in any way. I can sense about you a very deep sadness, and it touches a chord of pity in my heart." And it did touch her heart more than she was willing to admit. For a man such as Tajarez, with such obvious power and strength, it was almost unthinkable.
"I have been called many things in my life, Mara, but never was I told that I had no honor. Would you explain that to me?"
"Perhaps among your people it is not considered dishonorable to make love to one woman while you have a wife, but to me it is very wrong."
"But, Mara, what about you, who willingly returned my lovemaking, all the time thinking you were allowing another woman's husband to make love to you?"
"I am no less guilty than you. I have not the right to condemn you."
"What did you mean when you said you would like to comfort me? Would you come into my arms, and grant me a moment of forgetfulness?" he challenged her in a passionate voice.
Her green eyes glinted dangerously, and she tossed her golden hair defiantly. "Is that all it would take for you to be happy? I am beginning to wonder if you ever have anything else on your mind. Perhaps you should consider having a harem; I understand it works quite well in some uncivilized countries."
His eyes sparkled in silent mirth. "I do not think my queen would condone a harem. Still, it is not an unpleasing thought, if I could enlist you as my favorite."
She stepped away from him, but her foot became entangled in her long nightgown and she would have fallen had he not steadied her with a hand on her shoulder.
"You do not need to rush into my arms. I will give you time to consider being my concubine," he said lapsing into English, since there was no word for concubine in the Lagonda language.
"Your ego is exceeded only by your audacity. You are no better than a Frenchman called Du Lac, who tried to force me to go away with him. At least he did offer me marriage first, so Andrew would have a father."
Mara drew in her breath at the fire she saw leap into his eyes. She saw the anger distort his face, and when he spoke his voice as hardly above a whisper, but it had the intensity of a whiplash.
"Why was I not told about this? What man do you speak of?"
His hand fell heavily on her shoulder, and she felt his fingers bite into her tender skin. "Speak, Mara. I demand to hear all about this man."
"I beg your pardon. Who do you think you are to demand anything from me? I will tell you nothing!" she said defiantly.
He twisted her around and lifted her into his arms. "Will you not, Mara?" He set her down hard on the fur robe and walked over to the tent flap and threw it open.
"Tell Jeffery to come to me at once," he told whomever it was he spoke to.
Mara would have risen, but he swung around and pinned her with a look that made her change her mind. Why was he acting so strangely? What happened to her was not his affair. She had never seen him so enraged. His eyes were dark and foreboding, and the look he gave her told her not to say a word.
Jeffery entered the tent looking first at Mara and then Tajarez.
"Tell your king that what I do is none of his business, and he has no right to treat me as one o
f his lowly subjects," Mara dared to say, now that her brother was present to stand between her and Tajarez's unreasonable anger.
"What is she talking about, Tajarez?" Jeffery asked wondering what was amiss now.
"Why did you not tell me about the Frenchman?" Tajarez demanded.
Jeffery looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Palomas and I discussed it and decided not to say anything to you, hoping Mara would regain her memory and tell you herself."
"You and Palomas dared to take it upon yourself not to tell me. This time you have gone too far, Jeffery."
Mara stood up slowly. "Do not talk about me as if I were not here," she said coldly. "It was not my brother's place to tell you anything, or to keep anything from you. We are discussing me. If you are so anxious to hear about Du Lac, I will tell you, although I fail to see that it is any of your affair," she finished haughtily.
Tajarez turned to face her. "I am glad your have come to your senses." He sat down and motioned for Mara and Jeffery to do the same.
Mara gathered the fur robe tightly about her and sat down beside her brother, somehow needing to be close to him.
"Who is Du Lac?" Tajarez demanded.
"He was a Frenchman," Mara replied.
"Was?"
"Yes, was. Palomas killed him."
Tajarez's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps you had better start at the beginning."
"I do not see . . ."
"Do as he says, Mara," her brother interrupted.
Mara sighed. Once again she would get no help from her brother. "Du Lac was a friend of Zeke's, Jake did not like him very well."
"I am not interested in the Frenchman's relationship with the trappers. Tell me about you and him."
Mara looked at him defiantly, but the murderous look in his dark eyes made her suddenly fearful. "Du Lac asked me to marry him. I suppose because I allowed him to kiss me, he felt encouraged to ask for my hand."
"You allowed him to touch you?" Tajarez snapped. "Why?"
Mara wondered why he was looking at her so accusingly. "I wanted to see . . . what it would feel like to be kissed by him." She could have said she wanted to compare Du Lac's kiss to the ones Tajarez had given her in her dreams, but she did not dare.
Tajarez closed his eyes. He could not bear to think of any man's touching Mara, let alone kissing her.
"And did you like the kiss?" he asked in an uneven voice.
Jeffery stood up. "I do not think you want me here, Tajarez."
Mara blinked her eyes. Would Jeffery desert her now when she needed him?
"Sit down Jeffery. You will stay," Tajarez said.
Mara jumped to her feet. "My brother can stay here and be insulted by you, but I assure you I will not."
Tajarez stood up and towered over Mara. "Perhaps it is best for you to leave, Jeffery, this no longer concerns you," he said reaching out to take Mara by the arm.
"Jeffery, do not leave me," Mara cried.
"Tajarez, let her go. She does not understand," Jeffery said.
"I said, leave, Jeffery."
"Tajarez, think. Mara does not know. ..."
"Leave now, Jeffery," Tajarez repeated. His voice was not above a whisper, and his eyes never left Mara's face. She shivered as she heard her brother leave.
"I am not frightened of you," she said in a choked voice, knowing full well that she had seldom been more frightened.
"Answer my question now, Mara. Did you enjoy the Frenchman's kiss?"
"No!" she shouted. "I was repelled by him, is that what you want to hear?"
"Only if it is the truth."
"I did not like him touching me." She found she could no longer look into Tajarez's eyes, but stared at a point just behind him. "It was like a nightmare. He forced me to go away with him. He was talking crazy, saying I bewitched him. He . . . he put his hands on me. It was horrible."
He tilted her chin up to him, and she saw his throat muscles working convulsively. "What did he do to you?"
"Nothing," she whispered, remembering the dreadful ordeal. "Palomas found me just in time. He killed Du Lac."
Tajarez's hand strayed to her mouth, and he touched her lips gently. "I cannot bear to think that another man ..." He lowered his head and his lips fused with hers.
Mara tried to pull away, but he would not release her. Holding her in a vise-grip, his lips ravished her. There was no passion in his kiss, she sensed only anger. She was making whimpering noises as he ground his mouth against hers. Mara was never to know what would have happened had Andrew not chosen that moment to awaken. When Tajarez heard the baby crying he released her, and she fell backwards, landing on the soft fur robe that did little to cushion her fall.
"See to your son," he said as he turned away from her and lay down on the fur robe. Great Father, he thought, he had wanted to punish her, to make her feel the pain he was feeling.
Mara gathered Andrew into her arms and lay down across the tent from Tajarez. She had not understood anything that had happened tonight. Why had Tajarez reacted so- strangely about Du Lac? It was not as if he really cared about her. Perhaps he was one of those men who was jealous of any woman he became intimate with—but that did not make sense. What happened between her and Du Lac had happened before she and Tajarez had ever made love.
"I pity your poor wife," Mara said as she looked at Tajarez's rigid back. "Does she have any idea how you pursue other women?"
He rolled over to face her, and she was surprised to see he had a look of amusement on his face.
"I do not pursue other women, Mara, only you."
"How do you think your wife would feel about me?"
"That remains to be seen. You could always ask her."
Mara's face burned red, and she looked away from him. It was hard to think she would soon have to face the woman she had wronged. "I wish you would go away and leave me in peace. I feel defiled by you." Her voice came out louder than she intended it to, and she blinked as his eyes became swirling, dark storm centers. He rolled to his feet and advanced on her. She was lying down and there was no way she could get away from him. He lowered his body down beside her, and, moving Andrew over, pinned her body to the fur robe with the weight of his own.
"So you feel defiled by me, do you?" The tone of his voice sent tiny shivers of fear climbing up her spine to prickle at the nerve center at the back of her neck.
"Yes! Yes!" she cried.
The dark look on his face was enough to convince her that she faced death at his mighty hands. She gasped as his hands moved upward to play with the nerve that was pulsing madly in her throat. Then he circled her delicate neck.
"If you feel degraded by my touch, perhaps you should remember our conversation earlier. I did not force you to lie with me. You were all too willing for me to take you. Do you resent the fact that you allowed an Indian to penetrate your white body?"
Mara shook her head no. She had not thought of him as anything but a man she loved. Oh God, how she loved him. She was being torn apart inside loving him and wanting him to make love to her, knowing it was wrong. Perhaps his jealousy tonight had been because he cared for her a little.
His dark eyes roved over her lovely face. "All right, then, do you resent the fact that I desire you, and you wanted me to make love to you?"
"No, yes, I suppose I do. I am tortured by the fact that I have evidently been so free with my favors."
"I am saddened that you are suffering so needlessly over this, Mara." He wanted to tell her the truth. She was his wife, and he had every right to make love to her, and she need not feel guilty about her feelings for him. He wanted to tell her that no man had ever entered her body with the exception of him. He wanted to shout to her that Andrew was his son. He felt guilty that he had been unable to wait to make love to her until they reached the Cities. If he had been stronger, Mara would not be living in torment. He thought of the Frenchman who had wanted her, and became eaten up again with jealousy.
"Mara." His mouth circled her lips, and he did not miss the moa
n that escaped her throat. "Did you not feel desire when the man Du Lac kissed you?" His voice was deep and raspy.
"No."
"I am jealous of every word that man spoke to you. I do not like the thought that he touched your lips with his mouth." Tajarez's mouth settled on hers, as if, by sheer force of his will, his lips would burn his ownership onto her, erasing all traces of another man kissing the sweet lips that should only know his kiss.
Mara's body craved closer contact with his. He was lying on top of the fur robe, and she resented that there was anything between them. As if he read her thoughts, he slipped underneath the covers with her. She remembered her promise to herself and pulled away from him.
"No, Mara," he growled in her ear. "Do not fight me. You know you want me as I want you. To deny me is to lend a lie to your true feelings."
"You will take all I have and leave me with nothing," came her weak protest.
"All I take from you I shall return a hundred fold. I will take the pleasure of your body, but I shall also give pleasure back to you," he said gruffly.
So much for her restraint, she thought. His hands and body were wreaking havoc with her mind. She was no match for his seductive powers. Would any woman be, she wondered. Her hands moved over his back and she felt a scar. She had noticed before that there was a twin scar on the front of his chest, as if his body had been penetrated by some sharp instrument that had entered either the back or the front and come out the other side. She tried to concentrate on the scar instead of on his hands, which were now moving over her hips to her thigh.
"What happened?" she said, rolling her head from side to side as his hands parted her legs.
His lips brushed hers and she gasped. "What happened?" he questioned.
She could feel his hard maleness against her, and she tried to remember the question. "The scar, on your back and chest," she said breathlessly.
He was silent for so long she thought he chose not to answer or was ignoring her question.
He nibbled at her ear, and his warm breath stirred her hair. "I was near-mortally wounded by the Kiowa." His hand had moved up to her waist and he raised his head to look at her.
Savage Splendor (Savage Lagonda 2) Page 24