Holdin' On for a Hero

by Ciana Stone

  Chance screamed and kicked at him. Wyatt stayed out of range and moved in as she readjusted to get more leverage. He shoved her backward, sat on her stomach and pinned her hands together over her head. “Dammit, Chance, stop!”

  She struggled until she realized she was not going to get away then stilled. Her eyes were flashing as she looked up at him. His eyes were dark as night and his jaw was clenched. Chance took in his appearance, the powerful muscles of his arms and chest and the smooth dark skin dusted with even darker hair that traced a path down his body to disappear into the top of his jeans.

  She looked up at his face, seeing the beauty and strength, the long ebony hair framing it like a dark halo. Anger disappeared and in its place were feelings that terrified her. She had never felt about a man the way she felt about Wyatt. Everything about him excited her and she wanted him more than she had ever wanted anything.

  “Wyatt, get away from me,” she whispered urgently, afraid of her own feelings.

  “What? Get away from you? What’s this? One minute you think I’m the reincarnated savior of the people, the next you want to kill me and now you want me to get away? What is it? Afraid?”

  “Not of you,” she admitted softly, lowering her eyes.

  “Then what?”

  Chance was silent for a little while, trying to gather her courage. At last she looked up at him. “I’m afraid of how I feel about you. If you don’t move away from me I’m afraid I’ll do something that’ll make you push me away and I don’t know if I can take that. Not again.”

  Wyatt didn’t move, and anger flashed again in her eyes, anger at herself for feeling the way she did and at him for forcing her to admit her true feelings. “Don’t you get it? I love you. I’ve loved you since I was five years old and I don’t know how to love anyone else. I look at you and it’s all I can do not to throw myself at you. So, please—get off me. I really don’t want to make a bigger a fool of myself than I already have.”

  He opened his mouth to speak but she wouldn’t let him. “No, don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it again. You made yourself clear a long time ago. I know you don’t feel that way about me. But it doesn’t change anything. I can’t stop the way I feel. All I can do is try to deal with it. Just don’t make it tougher than it already is.”

  “Can I get a word in?” he asked when she finally stopped talking.

  She looked up at him and nodded. “I never said I didn’t care about you. For the love of god, do you think I would’ve been so filled with rage about losing the child if I didn’t care? I thought you had deliberately aborted the baby and that only confirmed what I thought about rich white people. That they just used other people and tossed them aside when they found something better to amuse them. I spent years trying to hate you and what you did. And I took it out on everyone around me. I carried that fury with me every moment of every day.”

  “But I didn’t kill the baby! I would have died before I did that.”

  “I know,” he said softly. “At least I do now. But there’s something you have to accept. I’ve spent years trying not to love you. I knew how you felt and yes, I did use it against you. I wanted to hurt you—the way I hurt. So, I flaunted my relationships in your face. But those women were victims. I used them. You see, I’m not the gentle, romantic figure you think I am. There’s not much gentle about me or my feelings. I can’t be the tender, sweet lover you want. There’s nothing gentle about the way I feel…or the way I want you.”

  “Want…you want me?” she asked in surprise.

  “Yes,” he replied without hesitation. “But like I said, I may not be what you really want. I’m not smooth and polished. I don’t say all the right things and—”

  “What makes you think that’s what I want?” she interrupted. “Why do you assume that I need some prissy little executive in a three-piece Brooks Brothers’ suit whose idea of exercise is a stirring round of golf and who thinks romance is a Frank Sinatra album, caviar and champagne?”

  “But I thought—” He gave her a puzzled look. “Isn’t that what all—”

  “Rich white girls want?” she finished the sentence irritably. “Wyatt, you’ve been reading too many romance novels. And I’m not like all those other rich white girls.”

  “Then what are you?” he asked in a slightly teasing tone.

  Chance looked up at him seriously. “I’m the same person I’ve always been. I don’t want some Don Juan who’s going to say pretty words and treat me like a fragile flower who might break at any moment. And I don’t want to be nothing more than something to decorate a man’s arm at social events. I want…I want a man who has real feelings and needs and isn’t afraid of them. I want—oh, damn it all, I want you, Wyatt, just like you are. That’s what I’ve always wanted.”

  His eyes gleamed in the firelight. “I’m not the young boy you remember. Life—the way I lived, the things I’ve done—it’s changed me.”

  “Maybe. You’re older and you’ve experienced things that have affected the way you look at life.” She pulled one hand free to reach out and place her palm against his chest, over his heart. “But in here you’re still the same.”

  “And what if I’m not? What if you find someone you don’t like in there?”

  “Then I’ll tell you to get lost.” Her words held no real conviction.

  Wyatt stared at her for a moment then moved off her. She sat up and after a few moments she moved onto her knees in front of him. Tentatively she touched him, letting her hands move over his skin lightly.

  “You’re the most perfectly beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” she whispered, tracing her fingers over the muscles of his chest.

  He watched her face as her eyes moved over his body. “I’m nowhere near perfect,” he argued in a husky voice.

  “You are to me,” she whispered as her hands moved down his chest and abdomen, stopping at the top of his jeans. She looked up at him as she unfastened the button then slowly unzipped them.

  “May I?”

  Wyatt nodded and rose up so she could slide his pants down. He pulled them off and tossed them aside. Chance’s eyes were dilated as they traveled over his naked body. She ran her fingertips up the inside of his thighs, brushing against his manhood then moving away. He shivered slightly at the featherlight caress and she repeated the stroke. But this time her hand wrapped around him, squeezing and stroking firmly.

  Wyatt’s eyes closed as she stroked him. A groan accompanied his eyes abruptly opening as she took him in her mouth. His body tensed at the movements of her mouth and tongue and he wound his hands in her long hair, stilling her actions.

  She looked up at him and he tugged on her hair, bringing her face to his. His tongue flicked out, licking at her lips and she captured it within them. The kiss was unhurried yet filled with need.

  Wyatt pushed her back. She knelt on her knees facing him, their eyes locked together. He unbuttoned the shirt she wore and pushed it off her shoulders. His gaze was almost tangible on her skin. She felt burned by his eyes as they moved down her body.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “More than I remembered.”

  She felt a thrill race through her at his words. “Wyatt,” she breathed as his lips touched her neck. “Love me. Please.”

  He did not have the power to do anything but pull her to him. Their passion burned brighter than the flames that lit the cave, lasting long after the last embers of the fire had died away.

  * * * * *

  Wyatt woke to find the fire had long since burned out. Only a few embers glowed dimly. He covered Chance then got up and went to the entrance of the cave where wood was stacked in a pile. Within minutes flames licked up through the dry wood, lighting the cave.

  Chance immediately snuggled over to him as he lay down beside her. She threw her arm across him as she put her head on his chest and pressed against his side. Wyatt put his arm around her, holding her close as he looked down at her.

  He had never imagined there would come a time when
the anger and resentment he had been carrying for so long would cease. In some odd way, it left him feeling empty. It had been a part of him for so long that its absence was almost like losing part of himself. That didn’t frighten him. He was relieved to be rid of it. But there was something that did make him feel nervous and that was the feelings that Chance had rekindled in him.

  He traced his fingers over her face, thinking how beautiful she was. She had always been beautiful, but now he saw her in a new light. He realized that while she may have come from the rich white world, she was nothing like the others he had met in his life. He also realized that he could no longer deny the way he felt about her. He supposed he had loved her as long as he could remember. That time long ago, the first time they made love, had been etched indelibly on his mind. Even though he had tried to forget, he could still remember every moment. The way she looked and felt and tasted. He’d often thought that the memory was some kind of personal hell for him.

  Now that he knew she hadn’t betrayed him, he didn’t have to deny his feelings. Yet he was anxious. Was love enough? He couldn’t give her the kind of life she was accustomed to. Nor did he want to. He had no desire to live in the rich white man’s world. He had been trained to be a killing machine, that was the life he knew, one filled with danger at every turn and uncertainty as to whether the next mission would be his last. Anyone who chose to be part of his life would be forced to live with that uncertainty as well.

  Chance wasn’t used to that kind of life. Even though she no longer lived with Maurice, she still lived a completely different kind of life. Could those two lifestyles blend into one? He didn’t know.

  Chance stirred and opened her eyes. Wyatt smiled at her as she kissed his chest. “I was afraid to open my eyes,” she whispered.

  He raised his eyebrows in silent question and she looked up at him. “I was afraid I’d wake up and find out it was all just a dream.”

  “It’s no dream.”

  “But we can pretend it is,” she whispered against his skin.

  “Huh?”

  “Pretend.” She nipped her way down his body. “Pretend we’re in a dream. A dream where we can do anything we’ve ever fantasized of.”

  Wyatt sucked in his breath as her tongue flicked at the head of his cock. “Baby, you might not want to be in my fantasies.”

  “Don’t bet on it.” She took him in her mouth just long enough to have his balls tingle. “Tell me. No, better yet, show me.”

  “And what if you can’t take it?” he asked, succumbing to the ministrations of her mouth on his dick.

  “Won’t know ‘til we try, will we?” she challenged him.

  “I guess not.” He took hold of the back of her hair and pulled her mouth from his dick. “You want my fantasy, baby? Then lay back.”

  She couldn’t say how much time passed, caught up as she was in the overwhelming pleasure he gave, pleasure she’d never known she was capable of experiencing. When he finally succumbed to climax, they both lay spent. Chance didn’t realize she had drifted off to sleep until Wyatt hugged her tight up against him. She wound her arms around him, reveling in the feel of his body pressed against hers. “Are you sorry?” she whispered, suddenly seized with insecurity.

  “About what?”

  “About us. Are you sorry it happened?”

  “No,” he answered and hugged her closer. “Never.”

  “Me either.” She smiled happily. “So, can I ask you a very personal question?”

  “Sure.”

  “What happens now?”

  “I’m not sure I know what you’re asking,” he answered, even though he was pretty sure she was referring to them.

  Chance sat up and looked at him. Wyatt looked at her, sitting in front of the fire with her hair tangled and the light playing off the golden strands like liquid fire. She made no move to cover her nakedness, seeming natural and uninhibited.

  Wyatt’s eyes moved over her, and despite his resolve not to become excited again, his desire for her rose. Chance’s fingers played on his skin as she looked at him. “What happens to us?” she finally asked. “Is this it? Do you want me to go away now and leave you alone or what?”

  “No, I definitely don’t want you to leave,” he replied, twining one long strand of her hair around his hand. “But I don’t know the answer to your question. I don’t know where we go from here. I do know that I can’t go back to the rich white man’s world. I’ve tried that and it doesn’t work for me. I belong where I am, in the SEALs. But you, you have to decide for yourself what’s right for you.”

  Chance looked at him for a few moments before speaking. “I understand and I wouldn’t ask you to leave the service. I just want to know if you…well, if you want me to be in your life. Do you want me to stay with you?”

  Wyatt’s hand stopped its motion in her hair. He wanted tell her that he wanted her to stay with him more than anything. But he wanted her to reach that decision because it was what she wanted, not because she wanted to please him.

  “Do you want to stay?”

  She smiled and ran her hand along the stubble of beard on his face. “More than anything.”

  Wyatt felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “What about your job?”

  She stiffened slightly. “I forgot! Wyatt, I found out something!”

  She jumped up to grab her backpack and pulled out the tape recorder. Returning to the fire, she sat down beside him again. “When I first got here I heard some talk about some trouble that’s been going on. I figured maybe it had something to do with the new casino that’s being built. It wouldn’t be the first time a community has gotten their knickers in a knot over something like this. Ever since the Indian Gaming Regulatory Act was signed in 1988, one group or another has been bitching about it. When the Mashantucket Pequot opened their casino near Ledyard, Connecticut, in September 1993, the locals started making noises about it. Despite the fact that the tribe was going to provide hundreds of new jobs, becoming one of the state’s largest employers and adding somewhere in the neighborhood of a hundred million dollars to the state coffers by the end of the year, the locals spent their time griping about their concerns that the Pequot would buy up more land to expand their operations.”

  “That’s no surprise. Whites don’t want to give up anything they consider theirs. It’s always been that way. They take and take and take until the Indians have nothing. Then they’re happy.”

  “You’re right. But this time the law’s on our side. And it’s proving to be a good thing. Why, by 1993, gambling had already become a major source of revenue. It allowed previously impoverished tribes to build schools and hospitals. The people could afford to build homes and provide their children with a good life. It virtually eliminates unemployment. In short, it gives back some of the power the government has stolen from them over the years. I mean, it doesn’t replace all their lands or anything like that, but it does give them something they haven’t had up until now—financial independence and power. We both know that money is power, and with power comes the ability to be heard. That’s what the casinos are doing for the Indians.”

  “And power is something a lot of people don’t want the red man to have,” he said in a harsh tone.

  “Only people who profit from keeping others oppressed and at their mercy,” she corrected him. “Wyatt, is that what’s going on here? Is there some local bigwig who’s in a lather over the casino?”

  Wyatt looked at her for a few moments then shook his head and sighed. “Yeah, I guess that’s about the size of it. There’s a man in the area, a very rich man. I guess he’s responsible for providing jobs to a great many Indians. And he isn’t at all happy about the casino. In fact, he’s downright mad.”

  “That’s what I thought. You do know that I work for CNN, don’t you?”

  Wyatt shook his head. “I don’t know what you do, exactly.”

  “I’m a producer. And like I said, after I overheard some people talking around here I started th
inking something was going on. So I called my office and had my assistant and someone from research do some checking. Wyatt, someone is trying to make sure the casino never gets off the ground. There’ve been three major contractors so far that have signed contracts to do the work and all three have backed out—paying hefty fines I might add, for doing so. We don’t know why, but I suspect someone’s behind their change of mind. Someone with a lot of clout and a lot of money.”

  Wyatt nodded and stared silently into the fire. Chance had managed to piece together a lot in the short time she’d been there. “So, what?”

  “So I want to do a piece on it! If you can convince people to open up and talk to me, we can blow this thing wide open, expose the people who are causing the trouble. I’ll get a team down here and we’ll tape it. Wyatt, this’ll get national attention.”

  Wyatt considered her suggestion. If it worked then it would certainly solve the problems the people had been having. And it would settle it without any killing. That part particularly appealed to him.

  He smiled at her and nodded. “You’re right and I’ll help you all I can.”

  “Thank you!” She threw herself on him, kissing him all over the face and hugging him.

  Wyatt laughed and wrapped his arms around her. “I should be thanking you. After all these are my people.”

  Chance pulled back and looked at him. “That reminds me, we never quite settled things. I said I wanted to stay with you but you didn’t tell me what you wanted. So?”

  Wyatt smiled and pulled her back down on him. “I want you to stay forever.”

  “With you?”

  “Only me.”

  Chance smiled brightly. “I love you, Wyatt. More than life.”

  “And I love you,” he said softly. “With my life.”

  Chance’s eyes filled with tears and he brushed them away. She sighed as he kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, chin and worked his way lower.

  “You think we should get back?” she whispered as he rolled her over on her back and propped on one elbow beside her.

  “Later,” he whispered huskily.