Captive Bride

by Carol Finch

  "You remember how hot the flames of love can burn, don't you, Roz? The passion between us is not easily contained. Your hatred doesn't change the way I feel when you touch me. We may have our differences, but some things never change, things like my need for you, my craving for your kiss and caress."

  The velvety huskiness of his voice, the compelling sparkle in his eyes, made her hands move involuntarily. As if they had wills of their own, her fingertips swam across a sea of hair-roughened flesh, and she could not

  I keep her eyes from wandering over his granite shoulders, the taut tendons of his arms. Hawk was ail male, hard, bronzed, and extremely attractive. Rozalyn hated to admit that she adored the feel of his rough flesh beneath her hand, that she thrilled to the way he stirred beneath her touch. She had always thought Dominic Baudelair handsome and charismatic, but he'd seemed slightly out of place in his fashionable velvet garments. Indeed, Rozalyn had considered him too much a man for the sophisticated fashions of aristocrats. Seeing him here in the wilderness, garbed in form-fitting buckskin she knew he was in his element. Hawk was a part of this vast, sprawling world beyond the Mississippi.

  While her mind strayed she was falling into his seductive trap. Her hands were caressing the broad expanse of his chest, and her lips were brushing over his taut male nipples. Senses that had remained dormant for a week came awake, betraying her attempt not to feel, not to enjoy. This raven-haired devil could easily weave his spell about her if she did not guard her fragile heart that had just begun to mend.

  Fool! He will only hurt you, her wounded pride said, just loudly enough to catch Rozalyn's attention before she was swept into arousing sensations. With the quickness of a striking cobra, she darted sideways and hurriedly scooped up Hawk's discarded clothes and his pistols. A stunned expression appeared on his craggy features when he found his own flintlock aimed at his chest.

  Rozalyn's mouth curved upward in a devilish smile as she snatched up the horses' reins and then steadily backed away, leaving Hawk unarmed and unclad.

  "Now it is your turn to portray Lady Godiva," Rozalyn taunted. Slowly she inched away, drawing the string of horses with her. Hawk deserved to be left naked like the beasts of the wild since he was one of them. His humiliation would be small consolation for the heart-wrenching pain he had put her through. "No doubt you will play your new role as effortlessly as you portrayed a doting lover."

  "You would leave me here with no weapons of defense, no protection from inclement weather?" Hawk was incredulous.

  Rozalyn's eyes flooded over his nude body. "It seems only fitting that the wolf who stalked about St. Louis in sheep's clothing should be exposed for what he is."

  "How far do you think you will get in the wilderness without running into trouble?" Hawk took a bold step forward, but when Rozalyn cocked the hammer of the flintlock, he stopped in his tracks. "This is hardly St. Louis, minx. Unfriendly Indians and ruthless ruffians roam here. They will not grant you amnesty."

  "I can take care of myself," Rozalyn insisted. Cautiously watching Hawk's every movement, she drew the buckskin shirt over her head and pushed it down over her hips. "You should be more concerned about your welfare."

  As the buckskin shirt fell into place, Hawk noted the alluring picture Rozalyn presented. Lord, even the doehide garment could not disguise her beauty. The front of her shirt gaped to reveal the full swells of her breasts, and the long fringe on the garment's hem dangled sensuously upon her thighs. Hawk had hoped that attire would be less distracting than her provocative gown, but Mother Nature had been overly generous with Rozalyn. It was impossible to conceal her beauty, whether she was at her best or worst. How could he keep his lusty thoughts from running rampant when he looked at her? And worse, how could the rough-edged hunters who roamed the plains control themselves when they caught sight of this alluring minx?

  He winced apprehensively when he noticed whereRozalyn's backward strides were about to lead her. "Have a care, nymph." Hawk inclined his raven head toward the hazard that lay a few feet behind her. "You will be up to your lovely neck in trouble if you don't watch where you step," he warned her.

  Rozalyn flung Hawk a withering glance, annoyed by his attempt to distract her. She knew he was baiting her. If she dared to turn her head, he would pounce on her. "Don't expect me to fall for that trick," she declared sarcastically.

  Broad shoulders lifted and then dropped in a lackadaisical shrug. "Ah, well, it was worth a try. But I should have known you were too clever to—"

  His remark was cut off by Rozalyn's surprised squawk. Her foot had settled into ground that was not solid. Quicksand! She screamed in panic as she felt the slushy murk curl around her legs, frantically flapping her arms, as if she could sprout wings and fly to freedom. But feathered fowl she was not! The weight of the clothing, belts, and pistols she was carrying sent her deeper into the voracious sand, which pulled her downward.

  Rozalyn had let go of the lead horse's reins when she'd been taken by surprise, and, startled, the animal had bolted to the side, leaving her with no means to drag herself from disaster. Now panic gripped her as quicksand oozed about her waist, and her wild eyes flew to the naked mountain man who was grinning with sadistic glee.

  "Get me out of here!" Rozalyn screeched furiously. She was angry with herself for not heeding Hawk's warning and agitated with him for not being more persistent. Damn him! He was thoroughly enjoying the sight of her floundering in quicksand.

  Hawk swaggered toward Rozalyn and carefully leaned out to relieve her of his clothes and supplies. When she stretched out her arm to grip his hand, he quickly withdrew it. Calmly, he stepped into his breeches. Then he simply stood and watched the quicksand mold itself to her shapely body.

  Rozalyn sputtered in outrage. Hawk had every intention of letting her suffocate in the sand! He was going to stand there, watching in wicked satisfaction while she vanished from sight. The hard-hearted scoundrel! He was loving every minute of this.

  "My father will never agree to your terms if you do not deliver me to the rendezvous," Rozalyn reminded him coldly, as the damp sand crept across her ribs.

  "I have always prided myself on being resourceful," Hawk boasted. Then he flashed Rozalyn a haughty smile. "I'll think of something."

  "Dammit, Hawk!" she fumed. "Give me your hand!"

  He laughed. "Gladly . . . if only I could devise a way to detach it from the end of my arm."

  Rozalyn was becoming more infuriated by the second. How dare he tease her when she was about to meet her maker. Did this mountain man have not one smidgen of compassion?

  "If I save you from imminent death, will you promise to behave yourself in the future?" Hawk asked.

  She put out her defiant chin, the only part of her anatomy that wasn't covered with quicksand, and the look she gave was tantamount to a spiteful curse that condemned his miserable soul to hell.

  Hawk had no difficulty decoding her murderous glare. Chuckling, he turned his back on the stubborn vixen who was up to her neck in trouble. "Very well, you have made your choice. Being a gentleman, I will respect your decision."

  She could not believe her eyes when he strode over to regather the scattered horses. "Murderer!" she shouted at him.

  "Sticks and stones . . ." Hawk taunted wickedly. "I will not come to your rescue until you promise not to attempt another escape. You have already proven you cannot handle yourself in the wild, but I must commend you on your versatility. Not only can you dive headlong into disaster, you can back into it as well."

  Rozalyn breathed a defeated sigh as the quicksand towed her farther into its dark depths. "I promise," she choked out begrudgingly. She wondered if those were to be her last words, for Hawk seemed to be in no rush to retrieve her.

  After he had tethered the horses to a nearby tree he ambled back to the pool of quicksand. Bracing his legs, he crouched down to extend a helping hand, but just before Rozalyn could entwine her fingers in his, Hawk retracted his arm and grinned mischievously.

  "There
is another stipulation I neglected to make...."

  Rozalyn was infuriated by his roguish grin. She knew full well what price he expected in return for his chivalry, if one could call it that. The lout! He wanted her to surrender to his lust after he had saved her life.

  "You conniving bastard," she spat at him and then hastily closed her mouth before she swallowed quicksand.

  The teasing smile that dangled on one side of Hawk's mouth evaporated. He squatted down on his haunches to meet Rozalyn's exasperated glower. "I am sure you believe that to be true—and perhaps it is. But that doesn't change what lies smoldering between us. I want you, Roz—and without a fight," he said simply.

  Rozalyn would have burst into frustrated tears if she had not been so determined not to let this invincible mountain man see her cry. Straining her neck above the murk, she nodded her compliance. "Without a fight," she agreed submissively.

  His firm hand folded around hers, dragging her from the bottomless pool of quicksand that had very nearly swallowed her up, and Rozalyn breathed a sigh of relief when his strong, competent arms went around her. Hawk held her until her legs no longer wobbled beneath her.

  Then his warm green eyes swam over her shivering skin, as he steered her away from the deadly quicksand and lifted her into his arms. When he had peeled off her soiled shirt and cast his breeches aside, he carried Rozalyn into the river to cleanse her.

  His hands flowed over her skin, washing away the clinging sand, and Rozalyn died a thousand deaths as he provocatively massaged her body. She knew he had broken her heart the last time she'd dared to play this dangerous game, but being held in this man's arms would always rekindle her desire. It would always be like this with Hawk. When he made love to her, her soul sang.

  The fresh clean scent of him invaded her nostrils, reviving memories of their lovemaking and creating a need Rozalyn could not ignore. As her wandering fingertips trailed across his shoulder, her sense of touch evoked currents of pleasure, and when her lips tasted his bronzed skin, her quiet sigh intermingled with the chattering of the birds. Hawk filled her senses. In that serene moment all was forgotten, and he became her world. It was as if they were the only two people on earth. Even the sun hid its head behind the western horizon to grant them complete privacy.

  Rozalyn was transported back in time, back to the splendrous world of tender emotion. She could not fight her memories of the past when they mingled with the present. Even though surrendering to passion would only break her heart again, she could not deny him, not when it meant denying herself the pleasures that awaited ' her.

  Staring at Rozalyn with deliberate concentration, Hawk slid an arm beneath her knees. Allowing the water to cradle her, he set her adrift while his hungry kisses flowed over the trim column of her neck. Meanwhile his

  fingers meandered over her thighs and then traced the shapely curve of her hips. He allowed his hands and lips to wander where they would, but he soon became painfully aware that he was afire, though he was standing chest deep in water. His aching need for this lovely nymph consumed him, and he could not contain a sigh of pleasure as his lips whispered over her silky skin, tracing each curve and swell of her exquisite body.

  Lord, he loved to caress her satiny flesh, and he found her soft, full lips more intoxicating than wine. Hawk would have been content to spend the remainder of the night making love to this glorious angel. It didn't matter that she despised him. He needed her, yearned to ease the tormenting craving that had hounded since he'd dragged her from civilization. He had brought this free spirit into his world, a world that had been complete and satisfying until she'd come into his life. Now Rozalyn had turned his world upside down and nothing made sense anymore, nothing except touching her, taking her with him on the most intimate of journeys.

  A shuddering sigh tumbled from Rozalyn's lips as Hawk's practiced hands glided over every inch of her body. He was fueling a fire that all the water in the Platte couldn't cool. His touch satisfied some of her needs, but it also created new ones. She swore the hunger he'd provoked would devour her before it was satisfied.

  She could profess to despise him for what he had done, but that didn't prevent her from responding to him. This bold mountain man with dancing green eyes and jet black hair was the devil's own temptation. Rozalyn was helpless to defy him, and her traitorous body arched toward his seeking hands. She craved far more. She longed to feel his hard, muscular body pressed against her.

  When Hawk lifted her back into his arms and carried her to shore, she voiced no protest. She had fought Hawk once, but all her efforts had been wasted. Now it seemed inevitable when she was with him. She still loved the man she had tried to hate.

  Eyes that flickered with blatant desire raked over Rozalyn's naked flesh, and Hawk's devouring gaze did not waver as he set her on her feet. "I can never seem to get enough of you," he breathed raggedly. "You have become an obsession, one so fierce and uncontrollable that I ..."

  Suddenly Hawk lost all interest in conversation. His lips were too eager to engage in something far more arousing. As he drew Rozalyn down onto the thick carpet of grass that lined the river, his hands curled around her waist to lift her above him, then his lips feathered over the peaks of her breasts. Again, his caresses roamed and aroused. They glided over every inch of her satiny skin until her body moved instinctively toward his. His hands and lips did delicious things to her, maddening things.

  As her soft, yielding body molded itself to his, Hawk groaned in pleasure. Rozalyn had come to him, even when she'd vowed she would not. Nothing had changed. All thought escaped him when her sweet lips melted upon his, her tongue darting into his mouth and deepening a kiss in which their breaths intermingled. Her slim fingers tunneled into his hair, tangling in the thick raven strands, and her body insinuated itself provocatively onto his. Hawk moaned from the delicious torment. Her touch, her kiss, the feel of her burning into him drove him to the verge of insanity. It was easy to lose himself in the sensations she was weaving about him, easy to yield to the primitive urges that flooded over him.

  Rozalyn was all too aware of him, of the brawny columns of his long legs, the hard contours of his hips. Hawk was masculinity personified. He could make his will her own. She wanted him as a starving traveler wants nourishment. The sensations that riveted through her bordered on desperation. Rozalyn moved closer to the flame, eager to surrender all, just to appease the overwhelming need that made her entire body tremble uncontrollably.

  Unable to hold himself at bay a moment longer, Hawk moved toward her, responding to her feminine softness. His hands splayed across her hips, holding her to him as he drove into her, his open mouth covering hers and muffling her cry of pleasure. And they were one, sharing the savage urgency of their embrace. As passion engulfed them, their bodies burned in its sweet, violent fire. She met his deep thrusts and clung fiercely to him as he moved against her, filling her with sensations that were wild and satisfying. Their dark world came alive with golden flames whose curling fingers rose higher to weave a blazing spell about them.

  Rozalyn was prepared to sacrifice her last breath for release from the maddening desire that possessed her as Hawk took her higher and higher into the flames. Her flesh was ablaze but her soul was still reaching upward to touch the lofty crest that towered beyond passion's inferno. For one long moment Rozalyn felt she was dangling in midair, trapped between desire's raging flames and rapture's satisfying warmth. And then she let go, unable to battle the fierce emotions that had taken over her mind and body. She feared she would tumble back into the outstretched arms of the flames, but suddenly her soul soared, like an eagle testing its wings and gliding along on the wind. Time stood still as she circled and dived in lofty flight. I have been here before, she thought to herself. But each time was different somehow, wilder, sweeter. . . . And then the wind beneath her wings stilled and she was drifting downward, back into the hazy sea of reality. She lay limp and drowsy in Hawk's encircling arms, her cheeks flushed with the blush of contentment, h
er breath whispering softly against his sturdy shoulder.

  Had it been a dream or had she truly transcended the physical limitations of her body? Rozalyn wasn't certain. Slowly, her long lashes swept up to see a pair of emerald green eyes thoughtfully studying her. A tender smile grazed his lips when he combed his fingers through her tangled tendrils which were extended on the grass. Rozalyn reached up to trace the strong line of his jaw and quietly returned his smile. It was not a dream, she decided. Hawk's lovemaking left her with the illusion that he had performed magic, but her sensations were real. He could make her respond, even when she would have preferred not to yield to his skillful caresses.

  "You may always despise me, Roz, but even that doesn't matter when I hold you like this," he rasped, his voice husky in the aftermath of passionate lovemaking. "It has always been like this between us and it always will be." Hawk bent to drop a kiss onto her kiss-swollen lips and then withdrew to stare into her shimmering blue eyes. "Promise me you won't try to escape me. The wilderness can be harsh and cruel to those who have not learned to respect it. There are dangers lurking in every shadow, ones you can't possibly imagine. Whatever else you believe about me, I don't want to see you hurt."

  Rozalyn caught herself the split second before she read more into his softly spoken words than he'd intended. His main concern was delivering her to her father, nothing more. If she got into trouble, he would be inconvenienced. That is what concerns him most, she told herself. Like the menagerie of supplies strapped to his belt and to his pack horses, she was another possession, something required to fulfill his purpose. You have been a fool once. Spare yourself the heartache of believing in a man who sees you only as a means to an end, she told herself.

  Squirming away, Rozalyn sank down in the grass and peered across the river, watching the silver waves roll across its surface. She was not going to fall prey to her foolish heart this time. A time would come when she could escape him, and she would flee without looking back. The dangers that awaited in the shadows could be no more deadly than having one's soul bared and bleeding.