by Cait London
And he had to tell her soon.
Jillian awoke slowly, luxuriously, next to Adam in the large sleeping bag. It had been borrowed from Liam, according to Michelle, who insisted on sleeping with her husband. The stars were fading now, the air cold and crisp in the predawn, and Jillian felt so light, unburdened. She’d spent a sleepless night, decided what she should do, but only the apology that had been scraped from her soul, felt right. Now forgiveness was up to Adam.
She had watched the fire for hours after Adam had tucked her into the sleeping bag, her eyes dry with crying and lack of sleep. He’d sat for a while, stroking her hair, and then she couldn’t bear the thought of him sleeping with just a blanket on the cold mountain ground. “Adam, I will not be responsible for your discomfort or sickness. Either you share this with me, or I’m sleeping on that blanket.”
He’d hesitated, shook his head as if he knew better, and then slowly undressed down to his boxer shorts. In the dying firelight, she’d thought how beautiful he was, how far he’d traveled, to be just here, with her, when she’d needed him.
She lay very still, feeling the different textures of a male lying next to her, Adam’s heat enclosing her. He slept curled against her back, their bodies spooning, and Jillian was reminded of the feathers and the legend: The woman who brings the hawk and the dove feathers to the hunter shall tame him in gentler ways. He will be her strength, protecting her, but she has her own powers, most tender and loving. ’Twill not be easy for the hawk and the dove, one bred to hunt, and the other of a gentler nature. Together they grow into each other’s lives, and love will be born.
Had Sarah known, so long ago, that Adam’s and Jillian’s lives would be twined together? They had grown into each other’s lives, and now they were facing a new beginning.
He’d spoken of girl, a long time ago. She broke my heart. I wonder at times, if it ever mended enough to let another woman into it. Was she that girl? He’d seemed in love when they were in their teens—was it possible?
She turned slightly, and Adam shifted to his back. He looked so peaceful now, his breathing easy.
As if sensing she had awakened, he murmured sleepily, “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She wanted to touch him, to stroke his face, to feel that strength that had surrounded her last night. She trusted him—that thought ran through her as she considered how to ask him….
“What’s wrong, honey?” he asked softly, turning to her. “Can’t sleep?”
The endearment was deep and intimate as if he had saved it just for her. She curled the word around her, treasuring it. “These sweat clothes are warm, and you’re like a furnace.”
He moved as if to leave, and she placed her hand on his bare chest, smoothing it. The textures were smooth and powerful, the scar ripping across his arm proved that he took his challenges and survived. She smoothed the shark bite on his side, and images she had seen in movies terrified her. She couldn’t bear to think of Adam mangled and lifeless. “Don’t leave.”
He lay back, watching her in the night as she sat up and squirmed to pull off the oversize sweatpants, then the top. She’d never been bold, but now with Adam beside her, watching her with that dark, flickering, hungry look, she felt very feminine—and not at risk. Not at risk. She felt as if she could do anything, here on this mountain with Adam, and it would be natural and right.
She had to ask—“Am I the girl who broke your heart a long time ago?”
That hard mouth changed and slid into a slight smile. “None other. You ruined for me any other woman, sweetheart.”
Her instincts told her that making love now, with Adam, was right. She wouldn’t be frightened or rigidly cold. She wanted to be a part of him, to feel complete. She would have no regrets, because she knew that on a primitive level, she could trust him, if not herself. Adam would only touch in her gentleness and in affection. She needed his warmth and the tenderness that went with it. She also needed to give in return. She lay down and turned to him. “Make love with me.”
The muscle in his arm brushing hers leaped as if he were startled. He shook his head. “Jillian, you’re upset. You’ll think differently in the morning. I’m not taking advantage—”
“I take responsibility for my actions. I’m not that starry-eyed girl any longer, Adam. I’m a woman who wants you.” She bent to seal his lips with a kiss. “You’re not taking advantage. I want you. Equal opportunity, you know.”
Adam studied her face, smoothed her cheek. “There’s no going back. Once I’ve tasted you, I’ll want more. I’d rather wait until—”
“Shh. Just make love to me and everything else can wait—” She’d never been aggressive in lovemaking, but now she moved on top of Adam. His skin burned her bare breasts, and only thin layers of cloth separated his arousal from her. She smoothed his hair away from those rugged, very warm features and traced that high cheekbone with her fingertip. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“No—” Then, “Yes, very,” he whispered raggedly as his hands slid open upon her, caressing the length of her back and lower. He glanced down at where her breasts met his chest, and a ripple shot through the powerful length of his body as he groaned unevenly. “It’s not quite ‘uncomfortable.’ Be very certain, Jillian.”
“I am,” she said firmly, against his lips, tasting him with her tongue. He tasted of mystery and pleasure and softness and truth, and she added, a little of edgy, wary male. The textures of stubble on his cheeks, the heat and excitement that sizzled around him, and all that long powerful body were very erotic. Boldly, she rubbed her leg the length of his rougher one, enjoying the contrast of male and female, enjoying feeling feminine and desired. “I’ve never been more certain in my lifetime. I feel, Adam. I feel this is right for me, now. I’ve never been impulsive, and whatever else happens, I know that I was meant to be here on this mountain with you.”
Adam rolled her over so suddenly, she caught her breath. He was big and solid and powerful, and yet he didn’t frighten her. She smoothed his shoulders, enjoying the breadth and strength, the gleam of his skin in the moonlight pouring over him. He leaned over her, caught her face in his hand and lifted her chin with his thumb. “There’s something I have to tell you—”
She couldn’t resist moving slightly, her mouth enclosing his thumb, nibbling on the pad. Sensual play and Adam could be a very, very pleasurable activity, she decided as he tensed and sucked in his breath.
Her hand accidentally touched him, found him, and enticed by the boldness, curled around him. He trembled and she was amazed that such a light touch could bring such a volatile reaction. She skimmed her hand over his shoulder, his chest, and his tall body quivered beneath her touch. One light circling of his nipple brought a ragged intake of his breath, followed by an uneven groan.
With Adam, she felt only an aching hunger, a curiosity, not a fear. The knowledge that she was capable of sensual intimacy, and not frigid at all, excited her. She wanted everything, all of him just then. “Whatever it is, tell me later,” she whispered.
With a rough growl, Adam bent to fuse his lips with hers, a hot, open, steamy kiss. She arched as his hands prowled lower, finding her intimately and delving for the warmth there. The pressure of the cloth and the tearing of it didn’t frighten her as his mouth found her breasts, cruised and heated and suckled. It was not as gentle as before and yet, it was truthful. She reveled in each pleasure he gave, the deep melting warmth that came as he eased over her.
Poised above her, his arms braced to ease his weight from her, Adam hesitated as Jillian stroked her legs against his, her body aching. Each movement brought him closer, warmer, bolder….
Adam smoothed her temples with his thumbs. “This is for you to decide, sweetheart. There’s no going back—I can stop when you want, but intimacy between a man and a woman isn’t easily shoved back into the drawer.”
She lifted her hips, easing him gently against her. The incredible sense of homecoming warmed her. “I’ve decided.”
/> But Adam wasn’t finished, winding a strand of her hair around his hand. “You’re mine, you know. We can’t walk away from this, either one of us. You took my heart a long time ago, love. You still have it. There are things to settle between us, but I want you to know that no other woman has brought me the peace you have, or the joy. Or has driven me to the edge just wanting you, thinking of you just like this in my arms. Taking you here, like this, means more than you’ll know. I’ll be faithful to you and I’ll care for your needs as best I can.”
With the wind swaying gently in the pines and Adam’s voice so deep and uneven, she knew he was pledging the best part of him to her.
“You don’t bring me peace,” she whispered. “You bring me heat and storms and the feeling that I am free and wild and able to choose anything I want—I can be who I want and you make me feel so incredibly strong. With you, I feel so real and alive. I wish I could say ‘love,’ but I can’t, only that I feel so close to you, almost as if the legend of the feathers were true. I choose you, Adam Tallchief. Now. Here.”
“You would be a dove, soft and warm and tender of heart, I think. Aye,” he murmured, trembling a bit in her arms, his body taut against hers. “Aye” held not only agreement, but tradition, a Tallchief claiming his love.
“Aye,” she returned as their loving began, Adam moving very slowly to complete her and waiting until she accepted him fully.
Jillian closed her eyes and let him take her to a place she’d never been, moving gently against him, easily, as if she were floating on waves and incredibly safe. She saw the feathers facing apart and then spooned together, the dove and the hawk.
The first jolt of pleasure hit her, full and hard, tossing her back, riveting her. She hadn’t suspected it would come that fast—the primitive need surging out of her, driving her to lock herself to him, as the tiny explosions tore through her, enveloping her. When she was able to breathe again, to focus on Adam, who held very still above her, Jillian whispered, “My, that was ever so nice.”
“Was it, love?” His chuckle swept through the night and Jillian knew she was blushing. She forced herself to not turn away, because she wasn’t ashamed of her decision.
He was doing no more claiming than she, she thought boldly, the shy girl moving into womanhood, taking her due.
She wondered what would please him, and settled for a wobbly, silly smile. There was little else she could do, because her brain had stopped clear thought. Adam held still; his look was tender as he smoothed her hair from her forehead. “Still okay?”
“Marvelous.” Here in the fresh, clean mountain air, she felt new and strong and very feminine. She felt as if she could reach out and touch the stars, grasp and hold them tight in her fists. She felt as if she could drive chariots across the sky, or simply smile and wonder and love.
“Mmm.” He sounded so satisfied and yet when he touched her again, she knew this time would be—
The second jolt of pleasure threw her against him, her fingers digging into his arms braced at her side. Riveted by the fantastic sensations, she locked herself to Adam, keeping him. This was how it should be, another woman thought distantly as the waves of pleasure continued to wash over Jillian’s body. He’s being very careful with you, and he wants more for you than for himself. You’ve never been so safe, so loved. Trust him. Release yourself, who you really are with him. Don’t be afraid.
She wanted all of him, everything, and Adam’s hand slid lower, easing her hips higher as she found his throat, the pulse there, and bound him tightly within her. She heard herself cry out, and moving with Adam, felt herself struggle for release, just as he stilled, pouring into her.
What an incredible peace, she decided as Adam settled lightly upon her. His muscles quivered beneath her caress, as though the strain of holding himself away, considering her, was almost more than he could bear. She wouldn’t let him go, though he moved to ease away. She wanted his racing heart against hers, feeling the beat slow with hers, his skin damp and hot against hers, male to female. The slow, gentle way he caressed her said he enjoyed touching her, being close—not in desire, but in the aftermath of loving, the demonstration of affection. When he did ease away, yet holding her closely, she wiggled her toes against his, and they moved companionably in play.
Adam kissed the side of her throat, nuzzling her. “How do you feel?”
“I don’t know. I think I’m still floating, and I’m not certain I have bones, but the shooting stars behind my lids aren’t there anymore.”
“Mmm. They’re very nice bones,” he murmured, running his hand over her shoulder, then cupping and caressing her breast with his thumb. His hand moved lower and his fingers locked gently to her thigh, possessively, before they stroked and caressed and smoothed down to her knee and back up to her stomach. All the while, his lips were busy, trailing over her eyelashes, her cheeks, her ears. She could feel the pulse in him, the heat beginning again between them, and this time he came to her more hungry than the first.
She had loved his gentleness, but the slight trembling of his touch told her how desperate he was for her, just as she was for him. It was an honest touch, just as his gentle ones had been, and she knew that part of her heart was lost to his keeping.
At dawn, Jillian thought she had been dreaming, yet there was Adam, bending over her, his hands caressing, urging, heating. She turned to him eagerly, and quickly caught in the firestorm that was Adam’s hunger and her own. The hawk and the dove were growing into each other’s lives.
She awoke again to find Adam, dressed and sitting at the fire. Ashes rose in the smoke, like the night and the past floating away, the coals glowing. In the morning shadows. He looked deep in thought, brooding whatever haunted him. He looked like her lover, a man who held her both gently and fiercely, even in the height of his passion.
She stretched slightly, feeling warm and safe and pleasantly satisfied. Adam’s mouth had heated her body, his hands shaping her intimately, possessively, just as she had possessed him. Because he’d taken time to let her know him, she didn’t fear that tall powerful body; she adored it.
“Come back to bed, Adam,” she whispered softly, needing him close.
He shook his head. “We’ve got to talk.”
“Not now.” Then, because she felt too apart from him, she sat and rose from the sleeping bag, pulling the Tallchief plaid that was folded nearby around her. The air was cold, but Adam’s hot look was worth the effort, taking in every inch of her body.
She’d never played the seductress, yet Adam’s response excited her. She let the plaid fall away and thrilled when Adam’s gaze locked hungrily to her body, her senses leaping already, needing him…. He rose and walked slowly toward her. When she reached to smooth his cheek, his hand caught her wrist, turned it to kiss her palm. Then he was easing her beneath him and she needed no covers because Adam was very warm and ready.
This time, there was no gentleness, but a fierce taking, just as she wanted. She wanted that open honesty between them, that jolting passion, the desperate hunger matching her own. Again, she heard her keening cry and knew that once more he had taken everything, and she had taken more.
He bathed her later, and Jillian had never been touched so reverently. She watched, fascinated, while he used the same soapy water in the bucket. “You look like a girl,” he said, grinning at her. “I washed your clothes earlier. They should dry when the sun is a bit higher.”
“I like wearing your clothes. And the Tallchief plaid. It seems right somehow that we should be here like this. I understand a bit how Elizabeth Montclair could be so fierce with her Liam.” She inhaled the clear air, tinged with campfire smoke, and watched a squirrel scamper up a red-barked pine tree. Higher yet, a hawk circled lazily in the bright blue sky, and again she called the legend: The woman who brings the hawk and the dove feathers to the hunter, shall tame him in gentler ways. He will be her strength, protecting her, but she has her own powers, most tender and loving. ’Twill not be easy for the hawk and th
e dove, one bred to hunt, and the other of a gentler nature. Together they grow into each other’s lives, and love will be born.
She smiled a bit to herself; the morning after lovemaking had turned her into a true romantic. Was she in love? Probably.
Jillian straightened, caught by an image of Adam as a small boy. She breathed very quietly, stroking the Tallchief plaid draped around her shoulders, as she settled into her thoughts. Unless she was mistaken, she had just experienced her first biological nesting urge. She carried the evidence of Adam’s loving in her slightly aching muscles, in the heaviness and sensitivity of her breasts and lower.
“It’s not likely you’ll conceive, sweetheart,” Adam noted softly. “I didn’t have protection. It hasn’t been a necessity since no other woman has interested me in years. But it’s no light matter, and we’ll meet it together. I should have been prepared—I wasn’t. I apologize for that, but not for the loving. I’m old-fashioned that way it seems. I made love to you because I care. I’ll be faithful as I said, and I’ll be very careful with you. Are you feeling better?”
Underlining his responsibility, taking it, was typical of Adam, who had stood firm in his beliefs as a boy, holding them dear as a man. Images of a family she’d always wanted hurled through her mind, mixed with other images of the Tallchief children, all black hair and gray Scots eyes. She pressed her hand low against her body and hoped—but reality told her that the timing wasn’t right for conception. “Much better. I can’t tell you how sorry I am—”
Pitch ignited in the flames, hissing and throwing a flurry of sparks into the smoke. Adam’s gaze narrowed at her and the air was suddenly too quiet between them. “If last night was payback for some misplaced guilt, I’m not going to be happy.”
The statement slapped at her, but she understood the reasoning behind it. “I wanted to make love with you, Adam.”