Dream Warrior: His Savage Kiss

by Bobbi Smith

  "I said, take your hands off her, friend," Ben ground out. His jaw was clenched as he struggled to stay in control. He wanted to avoid violence if he could, because he didn't want to chance that the girl might be hurt.

  "I ain't your friend," Harky growled.

  "I know."

  "She wants me. She tol' me so. We was just on our way to the hotel so we could enjoy ourselves for a while. Have a few drinks . . ." He tightened his hold, daring her to contradict him.

  Ben glanced at the girl for the first time then and was so taken by her clear brown eyes and delicate beauty that he could only stare at her for a moment. She was by far the loveliest woman he'd ever seen. Her beauty was pure and natural and owed nothing to artifice. She barely topped five feet tall. Her complexion was flawless, her features lovely; her raven hair was parted in the middle and worn in two long braids. Her dress was of fringed buckskin and it clung to her figure, emphasizing just how petite she really was. Ben had been angry before when he'd seen the other man assaulting her, but now, seeing how small she was, he was filled with an even greater surge of protectiveness.

  "She doesn't look too willing to me." Ben spoke with slow deliberation. "If she's so eager to go with you, why are you holding her like a prisoner?"

  "She wants me."

  "What do you say we leave it up to the girl to decide?" Ben met the girl's brown-eyed gaze. Though she was trying her best to hide it, he could see the panic and fear in her eyes. "Do you want to stay with him?"

  "No! I do not know this man . . ." she protested.

  Ben's green eyes hardened to icy emerald brilliance. He took a step closer. "You heard her. Now, let her go."

  It was a command, not a request, and for the first time, Harky began to have some doubts.

  "What's she to you?"

  "She's a woman."

  "She's a damned squaw!"

  Harky never realized what hit him. One minute, the girl was in his grasp; the next, he was flat on his back on the ground with the other man looming over him. Shocked by the suddenness of his attack, Harkey stared up at Ben in furious disbelief. He would never have guessed the gent could have packed such a punch.

  "She's a woman, and, as such, she deserves your respect," Ben said threateningly.

  Harky knew he didn't have a chance and shot him a dirty look. "All right."

  "I'm glad you're finally seeing things my way. Now, get out of here."

  Ben was aware of the girl standing nearby, but he waited until Harky had scrambled to his feet and disappeared back into the saloon before turning to her. He took a step toward her, but she froze him with a look of hatred so burning and real that he stopped. "Are you all right?"

  Star Blossom stared at him, all the bad feelings she harbored toward whites showing clearly in her expression. Save her though he had, this man was still a white man, and that condemned him beyond any hope of redemption in her eyes. "I am fine. I must go now."

  She started to leave without another word, but Ben found he couldn't just let her walk out of his life. He wanted to talk to her, to find out her name, to make sure she got home safely. There was something vaguely familiar about her, and he wanted to know if he had seen her before somewhere.

  "Wait . . ." He reached out to stop her, but the moment he touched her arm, she stiffened just as she had when Harky touched her. He dropped his hand away.

  She turned on him, the anger still evident in her regard. "Are you no better than the other man? Would you stop me from returning to my people?"

  "I meant no harm." He stared down at her, thinking her breathtaking.

  She nodded tightly then turned with great dignity and walked away.

  Ben watched her go, noting the straightness of her back, the way she held her head up with pride and the gentle, very feminine sway of her hips as she walked. He was filled with a great sense of disappointment when she moved out of sight.

  "Ben? Is it over now?" Melanie appeared at his side, finally believing it was safe to come forward now that the filthy Indian was gone. Her face was pale, her expression strained.

  "Yes. It's over." He glanced at her, finding her presence intrusive and obnoxious and almost wishing he could go after the Cheyenne girl. There was something about her that had touched him deeply, and he knew he wouldn't forget her soon.

  "Thank heaven," Melanie babbled. "I was worried about you. Why in the world did you put yourself at risk over that squaw? Don't you realize those women like that kind of treatment? She probably asked for it . . ."

  At her words, Ben grew furious.

  "She was Cheyenne, Melanie, and Cheyenne women are known for their virtue," he told her tightly. "They wear chastity belts until they marry, and any man who dares touch the belt before the wedding night is at risk not only from the girl but from her whole family. The Cheyenne women are very well guarded and very chaste."

  Melanie thought he was being deliberately insulting, since she'd kissed him so brazenly in the office. "If she's so virtuous, why was she wandering around town all by herself? Where are the rest of her people? You know, personally, I don't think they should let them come into town anymore."

  "Perhaps you're right," Ben replied, letting her think she was right, but really believing the Cheyenne would be safer far away from the whites. With men around like Harky and women like Melanie who hated without reason, the Indians had little hope for a continuation of their centuries-long peaceful nomadic lifestyle. He thought about trying to convince Melanie that she was wrong about the Indians, but gave up the idea as hopeless. "Let's get you home, shall we?"

  "Yes, please." She smiled up at him as she took his arm again. She began chattering about the dance once more.

  Ben only half listened to her. His thoughts were on the maiden, and he wondered if he'd ever see her again.

  Nine

  Silver Wolf was mentally arguing with himself as he shrugged into the jacket of his best suit. He adjusted his cuffs, then paused before the mirror to check his appearance. A quick glance at his reflection told him he looked every bit the gentleman his years in the East had forced him to become. His dark suit was tailored just for him, fitting his broad shoulders to perfection. His shirt and tie were without flaw; his boots were polished to a high gleam. Despite his civilized appearance, though, there was nothing "gentlemanly" about Silver Wolf's mood. If anything, the word "savage" best described it.

  Since seeing Little Snow kiss the other man by the creek, Silver Wolf had tried to convince himself that he didn't care, that what they'd shared had ended years before and that she meant nothing to him now. But the strength of the emotions that seared him whenever he thought of that afternoon belied his very logical contention.

  Silver Wolf had been determined to put Little Snow from his mind and turn his full energies to his work, but the memory of her loveliness had haunted him, day and night, ruining his ability to concentrate. At the most inopportune times, a vision of her sleeping among the blossoms would float through his thoughts and with that vision had come the memory of how soft her skin had felt when he'd caressed her cheek. He remembered, too, the intoxicating scent of her perfume and how close he'd come to waking her with a kiss . . .

  As always, though, when Silver Wolf remembered how tempting her lips had been, he also remembered the other man kissing her and her response to him. It was that memory that brought a scowl to his darkly handsome features now, and he wondered not for the first time why he felt compelled to go to the dance tonight.

  Silver Wolf hated dances and all the pretense that went with them. Though he was always invited, he knew that he was not really wanted at these social occasions. Usually, he did not attend, only going when a valuable contact might be made to help with his work, but tonight was different. Tonight had nothing to do with work. Tonight was personal, and that was what was bothering him.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  "You ready?" Ben asked as he walked casually inside Daniel's room without waiting to be invited.

  Not wanting
to reveal the uneasiness he was feeling, he quickly, almost tersely, replied, "Let's go."

  "I was afraid you were going to say that," Ben groaned, drawing a surprised look from his friend.

  "I thought you always looked forward to these things."

  "I do . . . or at least, I did, until Melanie Wells set her cap for me."

  "You don't think you can handle her anymore?" Silver Wolf was smiling as he thought of the outspoken, spoiled young woman who'd been aggressively pursuing Ben.

  "The point is, I don't want to handle her. While you were gone, she paid me an unexpected, after-hours office visit," he explained. This was the first opportunity they'd had to talk, since Daniel had only returned from his trip to his grandfather's village that afternoon.

  "There are a lot of men in town who would love to have Melanie chasing them."

  "Good, they can have her," Ben said in exasperation.

  "Having trouble discouraging her, are you?"

  "Trouble isn't the word. I don't think she'll take no for an answer."

  "You think she's going to propose?" Silver Wolf laughed.

  "I wouldn't put it past her," he remarked as they started from the room. "What about you? Did you ever get out to the McCord ranch and speak to Cari?"

  "No," Silver Wolf answered, taking care not to lie. He had not spoken to her.

  "Well, she's in town with her parents. I hear they're staying at the hotel for the night, so they could be at the dance. It should be an interesting evening for you. I'm looking forward to meeting her myself."

  They headed across town toward the hall and could hear the sound of the music as they approached. Ben and Silver Wolf entered the crowded hall and made their way around the room, greeting friends and acquaintances. When the adoring mamas of the marriageable daughters caught sight of Ben, their expressions brightened. He was one of the richest, best-looking, available men in town, and more than one woman wanted him for their son-in-law.

  At the same time they noticed Ben, however, they also saw Daniel, and, attractive and eligible though he might be, their reaction to his presence was altogether different. Though their adventurous daughters might find him exciting and desirable because of his Indian blood, for the very same reason they found him unacceptable. Concern marred their features, and as they spoke to their husbands in hushed whispers, the men turned cold, unwelcome gazes on him. Educated though he might be, Daniel Marshall was still a half-breed.

  The young ladies, however, were unconcerned with their parents' opinions. The moment they saw Daniel, a titter of excitement raced through them. Melanie Wells had already set the group of flighty females straight about Ben, claiming him as her own personal property, so the excited group turned all their attention to Daniel, watching his every move with breathless wonder. He seldom came to these parties, and their hearts beat faster as they waited breathlessly to see if he would ask one of them for a dance.

  Ben and Silver Wolf were oblivious to the hungry-eyed stares of the young women. They got drinks from the refreshment table and settled in along the sidelines to watch the dancers glide by. Ben was scanning the room trying to see if he could locate the McCords, when he noticed Daniel grow tense. He let his gaze follow in the direction of his friend's and saw a beautiful, fair-haired young woman dance by with Mark Larson.

  "Is that Cari McCord with Larson?" Ben asked.

  "That's her." Silver Wolf's gray-eyed gaze had turned to silver fire at the sight of her dancing with Mark, and he downed the rest of his punch in one swallow, wishing it were something much more potent.

  "She's very pretty," Ben told him with undisguised appreciation.

  "Yes, she is," he answered tightly, unable to look away from her. The turquoise gown she wore was stylish and displayed her figure enticingly, hugging the swell of her bosom and nipping in at her slender waist before flaring out over her gently rounded hips. Her hair was done up in a glorious tumble of curls and held by a single ribbon, the same color as her gown. He remembered how soft the single curl had been against her cheek, and he longed to untie the ribbon, free the tawny mane, and sink his hands into its satiny length. His gaze drifted lower, studying her face as she turned toward him in the dance. Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks flushed, and she was smiling as if she were having a wonderful time. Silver Wolf couldn't hear what Larson was saying, but when she gave an enchanting laugh, his mood grew even darker.

  "Has she seen you yet?" Ben asked.

  "No."

  "Are you going to ask her to dance?"

  Silver Wolf was saved from having to tell his friend to mind his own business by Melanie's timely arrival.

  "Ben, darling, it's so good to see you," Melanie cooed, taking his arm and rubbing subtly against him. "You were so late getting here that I was afraid you weren't going to come."

  "We just arrived, Melanie," he answered, annoyed by her clinginess and trying to free himself from her grip.

  "Well, good. I wouldn't want to have missed a minute of your company." She gazed up at him with wide, adoring eyes. "The more I thought about the other night, the more I worried about you. You weren't hurt, were you? I realize now that it was a very brave thing you did, defending that little squaw, but I was still concerned that you might have been injured."

  At the mention of a squaw, Silver Wolf glanced questioningly at Ben. "What happened?"

  "A drunk was bothering a Cheyenne girl, so I broke it up."

  "He was wonderful," Melanie bragged. She'd realized her previous attitude hadn't worked with him and so was trying a new strategy. "Of course, if the Indians would just stay where they belong away from the whites, it wouldn't have happened in the first place, but that doesn't matter as long as Ben's all right."

  Silver Wolf wanted to ask her where the Cheyenne belonged if not on the land that had been theirs for hundreds of years, but he said nothing. He gave Ben a grateful look.

  "Let's dance," Melanie declared enthusiastically, allowing Ben no chance to escape. After he'd handed Daniel his glass, she practically hauled him from the side of the dance floor out among the other couples.

  Trapped for the moment, Ben could do nothing but capitulate. In his mind, though, he was already planning his escape. As he whirled Melanie about the dance floor, his thoughts were on the Indian maiden again. He couldn't forget the look of utter disdain she'd given him when he'd tried to find out more about her. He was a man used to attracting women, not repulsing them, and it had been a shock when she'd reacted to his touch with such contempt. He wondered what had happened to her to make her feel that way toward whites, and he wondered, too, if she was safe right then.

  "You're the loveliest woman in this room," Mark complimented Cari as he held her in his arms.

  "Why, thank you, Mark. That's kind of you to say," she replied, taking care to keep the look on her face sweetly insipid. She remembered how angry her father had been over the Larsons' accusations against Tall Shadow's people, and she wasn't about to let Mark become too familiar with her. She would be nice to him—smile and laugh at the appropriate times, and do all the things a lady was supposed to do—but that didn't mean she had to like doing it.

  Of course, that was exactly the reason why good manners had been invented—to give one the polish necessary to convince someone you liked them even when you couldn't stand the sight of them, and Cari was drawing heavily on her years of etiquette training right then. She seriously doubted Mark would be quite so enamored with her if he knew what she was really thinking.

  Mark was pleased with himself. He'd managed to get a dance with Cari, and she seemed quite taken with him. He thought her even better-looking tonight than he had on the day they'd met, and he wondered what his father would think if he decided to court her. Marriage would be an easy way to get the Circle M with all its good water and grazing land, but the Widow Green certainly knew how to please a man, as did several other women in town who shared their beds with him, and he wasn't ready to give them up yet.

  The music ended, and he was
sorry to let her go. "I look forward to dancing with you again, Cari."

  "So do I, Mark. Thank you." She smiled benignly at him as she turned away to find Elliot there, waiting for her. He took her arm and led her to the side of the room to join her parents.

  Ben finished the dance with Melanie, and seeing the McCords all together, he excused himself. He was eager for an introduction to Elizabeth and Cari, for he'd heard so much from James about them. He glanced around for Daniel, wondering when his friend was going to speak to the girl, but he didn't see him anywhere. He approached the McCords, and greeted them.

  "Ben, good to see you," James responded. "I want you to meet my wife, Elizabeth, and my daughter, Cari. This is Ben Douglas, my attorney here in town."

  "It's a pleasure, ladies," he told them warmly, thinking them both beautiful.

  "Ben went to college with Silver Wolf. In fact, it's because of him that Ben's out here working now," James explained.

  "Is Silver Wolf here tonight?" Cari's eagerness was obvious.

  "He's around somewhere," Ben replied, and he was rewarded with a bright smile.

  Elizabeth saw her daughter's happiness and had to fight to keep her disapproval from showing. She'd known this moment of reckoning would come, but she'd never dreamed the half-breed would come to a social occasion in town.

  The next song, a waltz, began, and Elliot claimed Cari for the dance.

  "Enjoying yourself?" Elliot asked as he held her as close as propriety would allow, his action definitely possessive. It had sorely tested his patience to stand by and watch Cari dance with Larson. Now, however, he had her all to himself again, and he meant to savor every second.

  "Yes, are you?" she answered, but she couldn't help but wonder where Silver Wolf was.

  His grin was rueful. "I would be, if it was just the two of us. You're the belle of the ball tonight."

  "Only because I'm new in town, and the proportion of men to women is six to one," she laughed. "Once I've been here for a while, all the attention will fade."