The Vow
Page 40
“Done!” she announced with a triumphant smile when she finished. “Now all I have to do is—”
With an odd, wheezing sigh, Damon Delancy slumped forward in a faint.
Catherine caught him around the waist, staggering under his weight as she broke his fall. She eased him down on his back, then managed to swing his legs up after him. After pausing for a moment to catch her breath, Catherine went to work, bringing the man’s left hand to his right shoulder and applying Sayer’s dressing.
When she finished, she leaned against the medicine cabinet and took another deep breath. Damon Delancy was still unconscious, looking less forbidding than he did when awake and glowering with anger. Catherine filled a basin with cold water, wrung out a cloth and began bathing his face.
His eyelids fluttered open. For once, his gray eyes seemed warm as they regarded her in confusion.
“You fainted,” Catherine said. “But I’ve set your arm and bandaged it. You should be as good as new.”
He scowled at the bandage. “How long do I have to stay with my arm strapped to my chest?”
“Four weeks, then keep your arm in a sling for two weeks. Your own doctor can advise you.”
“You can be sure of that.”
Catherine didn’t take offense at his implied criticism of her medical skills, because she was confident his own outrageously priced Fifth Avenue doctor couldn’t have done any better, as Mr. Delancy was sure to discover.
Two worlds. Forbidden love.
White Eagle’s Touch
© 2012 Karen Kay
Blackfoot Warrior, Book 2
Katrina Wellington is vexed. She must marry to obtain the rest of her inheritance. But her uncle, who left her in New York with a governess to make his fortune out West, has suddenly decided he must approve of her fiancé before he will loosen the purse strings to her dowry.
Swallowing her outrage, the socialite treks to the same wilderness that claimed her parents’ lives years ago. Some small part of her is crestfallen that her uncle is not waiting with open arms. Only three guides, Indian guides, await her, and one of them is far too handsome for his own good.
At first, White Eagle does not like the spoiled, willful niece of the white trader. When he catches a glimpse of the vulnerability behind her prickly exterior, he can’t resist challenging the dazzling beauty to rediscover her true inheritance—the inner strength bequeathed to her by her parents.
Close contact on the trail soon arouses a soul-stirring passion and in its turn, love. But love may not be enough to sustain a relationship that is forbidden in both their worlds.
Warning: Contains a captivating passion that could lead to a romantic evening spent in the company of one’s own love.
Enjoy the following excerpt for White Eagle’s Touch: White Eagle did nothing more than gaze down into her eyes, she glaring back up at him. His lips parted slightly, before he whispered, “Do you truly not know who is this person, Shines Like Moonlight?”
He reached a forefinger out to run over her cheek as he said the words, and Katrina thought she might suddenly faint.
What was this?
Not only had this man—this Indian—dared to touch her, sensation, such as no other she had ever imagined existed, engulfed her, rushing through her body like a wind storm gone mad. She trembled, and worse, she could not bring her body under control.
How dare he!
Thankfully she hadn’t lost her ability to speak. Mustering up all the disdain she could, she said, “Is this how my uncle wishes to greet me? With his emissary molesting me?”
The Indian raised an eyebrow. He said, “Haiya, Shines Like Moonlight has tongue like crow.”
“Tongue like—now, see here!”
“Temper like wasp.” He smiled.
She gasped. “Of all the impertinent, rude and…and uncivilized things to say…” She brushed his hand away. “And what does h-haiya mean?”
He didn’t respond—just stared at her, grinning.
“Well…are you going to answer me?”
Silence.
She stamped her foot. “Now listen to me, Indian, I expect you to reply to me when I address you. Not only that, but you are to listen to me carefully when I give you instructions and you are to follow what I say implicitly. You are never to walk away from me, not ever again, and you are to lower your eyes from mine so that you do not look directly at me whenever you are in my presence. Such is the manner in which a more…more…lowly person, as yourself, is to speak and act toward his betters…me…and not only that—”
He moved closer to her suddenly, without warning, and all at once, his head swooped down to hers, his lips enveloping hers in a kiss. A kiss! She had done no more than take a breath, when…
Sensation exploded within her, making her feel as though she stood in the middle of a raging battlefield. And to her absolute horror, her knees buckled under her, causing her to swoon toward him.
He caught her and she couldn’t think to voice a single protest against it, not when all her wits were required to try to comprehend what was taking place within her.
Was she sick? She could be. Her stomach churned as though she’d turned round and round, and her heartbeat…it raced faster than the last time she had been ill. Had she suddenly taken a fever?
It did occur to her, as she stood within the Indian’s arms, that he smelled good, of buckskin and grass, of mint and smoke and a completely masculine, musky scent. In truth, it was the most intoxicating blend of aromas, and she was more than aware as she leaned in toward him, of where she was, of the comfortable tepee around her, of the feel of the softened atmosphere, the hush of the world outside the lodge. Never had she experienced so much emotion; never had she known…such excitement?
Yes, that was it…excitement.
And then it was over. He left off the kiss, raising his head, although he barely backed away from her as he did so.
She couldn’t speak, not when he still held her. And so she did nothing, said nothing; unable, it would seem, to take control of herself. She did stare up at him, though, little knowing that her reddened lips bore evidence of her surrender.
Briefly, he ran a finger over her lips; and she didn’t object. How could she, when her entire body felt as if it were on fire?
She shut her eyes, and still the sensation didn’t cease.
It worsened.
Outwardly, his fingers moved over her face, stretching and smoothing over her cheek, caressing it, moving downward toward her neck.
And even his breath, when he breathed out, felt stimulating against her skin, and a warmth rose in her as she noted that he breathed unsteadily.
Was it possible that he, too, was moved by her? She opened her eyes to gaze at him. If he did feel the same as she, he made no move to show it. In truth, he had managed to reach around her to open the tepee flap.
He stared down at her, his look intense, making her want to run away; though contrarily, she found herself wanting him to kiss her again.
But he didn’t do it. He simply watched her, until at last he spoke, saying,
“Haiya, I now know one thing about Shines Like Moonlight.”
She wished she could do more than gape at him. It wasn’t, however, to be.
Dumbfounded, she peered up at him. It was all the motion she seemed capable of at the moment.
And he continued, “Shines Like Moonlight does not desire this man she is to marry.”
She gasped. She opened her mouth to try to say something, but his lips pressed down over hers, kissing her yet again, as if to prove his point, and despite herself, Katrina could do little more than respond.
At last, however, he halted the kiss, raising his head ever so slightly away from her.
She tried to pull back then, out of his embrace, but she couldn’t go far away.
To her relief, she felt her thoughts begin to clear.
Of all the audacity! It was the first thought she had. Why, the man had certainly overstepped himself.
Gathering together all the fury that she felt certain was hers, she threw back her head. “How dare you, Indian!” she said.
“How would you know whether I…desire…whether I love a man or not?
And what business is it of yours? You…you, who are no more than an ignorant, filthy savage.”
He leaned away from her, a dark grin his only reaction.
She knew, even as she spoke, that the words she’d said were lies. This man was no savage. And ignorant? From this meeting alone, she’d come to realize that this Indian was more intelligent than many of the civilized men of her acquaintance. And as for filthy…she couldn’t have been more wrong. Why, there was not a mark of dirt or grease anywhere upon his clothing, or upon his person, something that could not be said for any of the white men here at the fort…aristocrat or not.
No, this man did not exactly fit the image of the wild, dirty Indian that was so commonly remarked upon in the East.
“Shines Like Moonlight has tongue that stings like bee,” the Indian went on to say. “It is lucky for you that you are a woman and that I do not make war upon women. I will overlook what you say for now since you are like the baby, unfamiliar with Pikuni courtesy and manners. But I would advise you learn good manners soon.”
“Good manners? How dare you… Why, I will do nothing of the sort, Indian.
I am here to see my uncle, that is all. And when that is done, I will leave here, never to see this land, nor you, again.”
He shrugged. “Then it is to be hoped that this man you are to marry is good fighter. He will need to be in order to protect you.”
“How dare—”
“Perhaps I should tell him how he will have to watch over you, as a mother bear will watch over her cubs, because without simple courtesy, no Pikuni will understand that you are nothing more than a child.
Some of my people might even begin to treat you as they would a wolf gone crazy, since it is well-known that a man who will act as you have is either very stupid or very mad.”
She backed away. “Why, you…you…you have no right to speak to me that way!”
“Without manners,” he repeated, undaunted, “I know no other way to talk to you.”
“Yes, well, I will tell you now that your own manners would be a sin to Moses. And I can assure you that I am no child, nor am I stupid or mad.”
He grinned. “I do not know who this Moses is, but you had better get your man to protect you. You will need it all the more if you are not mad or stupid.
Where is he now? Where is this man you are to marry? Where is he when you need him?”
“I do not need him to protect me and he is…he is…” She knew very well that her fiancé was out with his hounds, hunting. But she wasn’t going to tell this Indian that. She said instead, “Protect me? Why should he need to defend me?
As I told you, I am neither stupid, nor crazy. I am self-sufficient. I need no one.
My fiancé is to marry me. That is all. He need have no other responsibilities.”
The Indian just grinned and stared at her for one long moment after another.
At length, he said, softly, almost in a whisper, “Maybe you are right, and I am the savage one, but there is one thing I would do for you that I do not see any other man in your white man’s world doing for you.”
“Oh,” she said, “and what is that?”
“I would take care of you.”
“Take care of…? I haven’t asked you to do so, and I don’t—” She wasn’t able to voice more.
He had closed the short distance between them and, bending down swiftly toward her, he kissed her, yet again, a gentle, delicate graze.
It sent her mind to whirling. How could such a simple caress wreak such havoc within her?
She didn’t struggle. How could she? It was all she could do to stand up straight.
But he, at last, drew away from her, and it was then that she was able to utter, “How dare you,” but she noted her words lacked conviction.
He, however, didn’t take notice, he simply grinned down at her, and even that modest action sent her stomach plummeting. He said, “I would dare much, it would seem, but you are right. It is impolite of me to kiss you, to speak to you as I am, when we have only just met, after so many years.”
That stopped her. “After so many years? What do you mean? Have I known you before now?”
He didn’t reply; his only response to her, a slight grin.
She demanded, “Answer me.”
“The next time we meet,” he spoke slowly. “I will tell you all you want to know.”
“No, you will—”
His lips touched hers all over again—a short, gentle caress. Then, raising his head, he said, “Does Shines Like Moonlight believe a man and woman can find love after very short acquaintance?”
She hesitated. “Why, no, I don’t believe that I do.”
He grinned, a little more widely. “Little Moonlight is probably right. More reason for me to stay around her longer.”
“Oh.” Her lips parted.
And again he bent down toward her, only this time, he did no more than put his cheek against her own, as he whispered, “You come see your uncle too. I will take you.”
“I…” It wasn’t until that moment that she realized she was up against the entrance flap.
She pulled away from him, then, as quickly as she could, and stepped over toward the entry. She said, “You dare much, Indian, to talk to me, to treat me as you have today. I do not know if there will be a next time for us to meet and to talk. I have already suffered too much of your insolence and I…”
He grazed a finger over her cheek.
And she closed her eyes against the emotion that swept through her with so tender a touch, but only for a moment. Gathering herself together, she brushed the caress away, and said, “Please, do stop that.”
He just stared at her. “I will, if that is what you truly want, Little Moonlight.
But I must tell you that you had better leave my lodge quickly if your tongue speaks true about your feelings. Because if you stay any longer, I might again take the niece of my good friend into my arms and prove to her that…”
She turned away from him completely, not waiting to hear more; and, bending down, she stumbled out of the lodge without bothering to look behind her. And as she hurried away, she felt as if the hounds of hell had been let loose and were close upon her trail. It made her rush all the more.
Document Outline
The Vow
Lindsay Chase
Author�s Note
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
About the Author
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The Oath
� 2012 Lindsay Chase
Two worlds. Forbidden love.
White Eagle�s Touch
� 2012 Karen Kay
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