The Savage Heart

by Diana Palmer

  He was going to brush her off. But at the same moment, Tess came back in the door just ahead of her escort, looking breathless and faintly unkempt. She fanned herself and glanced back over her shoulder as if waiting impatiently for her companion. It set Matt off.

  He turned and stared into Daphne Mallory's eyes, knowing that Tess was watching. "Do you dance, Miss Mallory?"

  "Indeed I do, Mr. Davis!"

  He led her onto the ballroom floor, slid an arm around her, and moved her into the most beautiful dance Tess had ever watched. She'd never danced with Matt. She'd never seen him dance. She was surprised to find him so accomplished. He moved with such grace that he might have been born dancing the waltz. Her heart ached at the sight of him with that beautiful, sophisticated woman. She'd just had to fight her way out of Michael's embrace. Having led him on quite innocently, she'd found herself maneuvered out the door and almost kissed.

  Part of her had hoped that Matt had seen them leave, that he might be jealous enough to come after her. But he was dancing with that beautiful woman, and it couldn't be more evident that he found her fascinating.

  "I'm sorry," Michael said belatedly, hesitating beside her with a worried look. "I know that I was anything but a gentleman. I won't do it again."

  Tess's eyes flashed. "You won't get the chance," she said coldly. "Why don't you go out there and find a woman with a private income and loose morals?"

  He caught his breath.

  "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea," she said belatedly, averting her gaze. "I thought we were enjoying a harmless flirtation, not the prelude to a five-minute affair in the dark!"

  He started to speak, but just as he opened his mouth, DiamondJimcame sauntering up beside Tess. He had a smoking cigar in his hand, and he gave the young man a look that clearly was intended to make the fellow feel as if he were wearing short pants.

  "Scoot along, boy," he told Michael with a mocking smile. "You're out of your league here."

  "Yes, sir," Michael said at once. He gave Tess a wistful, apologetic glance and walked off.

  She looked up at the man local citizens called a criminal. "You don't look like a killer," she said pleasantly.

  His eyebrows shot up and he chuckled. "Thanks!"

  She clutched her small bag and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, it just slipped out."

  "He saw you go out the door," Diamond Jim said, his head jerking toward Matt, who was apparently oblivious to everything except his dancing partner. "He was heading after you when you came back in."

  "He was?" Her soft eyes brightened. They were so full of longing and hope that the man stared without meaning to.

  "She captured him in midstride," he told her. "Although I think the way you looked when you came in had something to do with his capitulation."

  "It wasn't like that."

  "I know Boson," he said unexpectedly. "He's a rich layabout with a yen for virgins."

  She gasped and her face went flaming red.

  He smiled wickedly. "They told you I was a bad man," he reminded her. "You should have run while you had the chance."

  "You…are bad!"

  While he was grinning at her shocked expression, Matt caught sight of them. Very quickly he extricated himself from his dancing partner, excused himself, and made a beeline for DiamondJimand Tess.

  "Here comes trouble," Diamond Jim remarked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

  "Youdidthat deliberately!" she burst out.

  "Shhh! Don't tell him! Wait and see what he does."

  Matt stopped in front of Tess, any amiability that had once touched his hard face all but a memory now.

  "Leave him alone," he told her in guttural Sioux. "He's too wise for you."

  She glared at him. "I choose my own companions," she replied in that same tongue. "Go back to your fancy woman!"

  DiamondJimwas enjoying himself. He pursed his lips and gave them a cursory appraisal. "It isn't Russian," he murmured.

  They both looked at him. Tess flushed more and Matt's jaw went rigid.

  "What did you say to her?" he asked DiamondJimin English.

  "Oh, I was just warning her that Boson over there is a lazy scoundrel with a taste for virgins. You might expound on that theme. She's young for a woman her age. Very young." He excused himself and went off in the general direction of the buffet table.

  "He's quite blunt," Tess said, ruffled. "Even more blunt than you!"

  "He's a criminal, for all his charm. But he was right about Boson." His eyes narrowed on her bodice. He saw a faint red mark on one half-exposed white breast, and the eyes he lifted to hers were furious.

  "He…"She looked around, muttered to herself at the people close enough to hear every word she said, and switched back to Sioux. "The button on his jacket did that," she said curtly. "And I hit him! You should have looked at his left cheek."

  The fury went out of him. He seemed to relax, although she noticed that he had to drag his eyes away from her bodice.

  "I've found out what I wanted to know," he said mysteriously, taking her arm. "We'd better go. It's getting late."

  She got her wrap from the maid, and he held it for her. They said a quick good night to their host, and Miss Mallory, who was standing beside a newly acquired partner, sent a last regretful glance toward Matt and waved at him.

  Once outside, Tess glared up at his profile. "Don't you want to stay?" she asked curtly. "She'll miss you."

  He didn't reply. He took her arm and led her to a hired carriage. But to her surprise, he didn't give the driver the address of their boardinghouse. She heard him give other, quite surprising directions—toLake Michigan.

  He climbed in beside her, leaned back, and crossed his legs. He looked formidable and completely unapproachable to Tess. She didn't speak again. She was ashamed of her outburst. Her hands clutched her little evening bag tightly as the carriage jostled along behind the horses. The night was very cool, and she was sorry she hadn't a proper coat. The fur wrap was proving to be far more ornamental than utilitarian. Why did Matt want to go to the shore of the lake at this hour? Did he want to walk on the strip of sandy beach there?

  Matt didn't enlighten her, even when they reached their destination. He left his top hat and cane on the seat and helped her down from the carriage. He instructed the driver to wait, and taking her arm, he escorted her along the sidewalk and down onto the sand.

  "It's too chilly to go strolling out here," she said through her teeth.

  "Are you cold?" He stopped and turned to her. There was a full moon, and it lit his face enough for her to see its grave expression. She noted, too, that they were well out of view of the road and the carriage.

  "My arms…are bare," she said.

  "Your arms and your breasts," he said curtly. "I saw the way that leering jackass gaped at you. You said that a button left that mark on your breasts, but I don't believe it. You let him touch you, didn't you?"

  She gasped, outraged. "As if I would let any man—!"

  "You let me," he reminded her with raging anger. "Or have you already forgotten?"

  In one smooth motion, he slid the mink stole away from her shoulders. She barely caught it before it hit the ground.

  The next movement he made was shocking. While she was catching her breath, he bent his head and his hard mouth found her breast where the red mark lingered.

  She gasped, gripped his arms, stiffened. But his lips were narcotic in the pleasure they gave. His mouth opened, and his tongue teased the flesh he had just kissed.

  Quite suddenly he pulled back. His beautiful, strong hands played along the d?colletage of her gown until, abruptly, he jerked the fabric, baring her breasts.

  In the chill night air, he looked at the hard red nipples for a long moment before his head bent again. He took one nipple delicately between his strong white teeth and nibbled it.

  She was frightened not only by his anger and the feel of his teeth but by the sensations they caused deep inside her body. She shivered.

  H
is big, lean hand cupped her gently, and he lifted his head so that he could see her eyes. "DidIhurt you?" he asked huskily.

  She wanted to say yes, she wanted to pull away and run. She wanted to lie down and draw his mouth over…

  "You…bit me," she accused, shaking. His hand softened on her body and lingered to caress her gently while he watched her shocked face. His fingers teased around the hard nipple, and he watched her shiver, knowing that it wasn't from the cold.

  "Kilgallen was right," he said quietly. "You're grass green."

  "Greener, even…"she whispered, realizing all of a sudden that he was as hungry as she was. Her body arched up to him. She looked at him with breathless anticipation. She never had the will to resist him. Not that she wanted to. All evening she'd thought of nothing except the hope of having him kiss her…

  Her green eyes glittered with the same riotous desire he was feeling. "Please…!" she whispered, lifting her arms around his neck. "Matt…please…do it…again!"

  His heart jumped. His hand cupped her warmly, moving under her firm breast as he touched his hard lips gently to her own. He was incapable of listening to his own small voice of reason. He was touching Tess and she was letting him, wanting him. It was just as it had been on the front porch so many long days ago, when they'd enjoyed each other in the darkness. Except that he could see her body in the faint moonlight. She was exquisite. She was everything he'd dreamed of…

  He nibbled at her mouth and then let his lips slide down past her collarbone. His mouth slid over the hard nipple, worrying it with his tongue until he heard her faint gasp. Then his mouth opened and moved completely over her, taking her almost completely inside the warm darkness while his tongue caressed the nipple until she arched up to him and shivered.

  His tongue rolled hungrily against the underside of the nipple in a caress that made her cry out.

  The sound excited him even more. His free hand slid down her back to her hips and gathered them completely against him, slowly rubbing her body into his until she could feel the hardness of him in a shocking contact.

  Flustered, she pushed at his chest.

  His head lifted. He saw the faint panic on her face. His hand still rested against her bare skin, and as he looked into her eyes, his hand contracted. He leaned against the seawall, his legs splayed, and he drew her between them, both hands at the top of her thighs, pushing her against the hardness of him.

  She tried to protest, but he was relentless.

  She shivered. Her eyes were wide, shocked, fascinated, embarrassed, and through it all, hungry. She couldn't stop looking at him as he moved her slowly against his hips.

  "You're innocent," he said quietly. "But you're not ignorant about aroused men. When I was wounded, early one morning when you thought I was asleep, you lifted the sheet and looked at me."

  Her face went scarlet.

  "You didn't think I knew, did you?" he asked softly. "It was too poignant a thing to have openly between us. You were so young, Tess. But I enjoyed your eyes. Too much," he added with a conspiratorial smile. "And you saw how much. I heard you gasp. After a minute, you dropped the sheet and ran."

  "I never thought you'd know," she said, embarrassed.

  "Iknew," he said solemnly. "That was when I started listening to your father about coming back east. You were only fourteen, but you had the body of a woman even then, and I wanted it."

  Her lips parted. "You never gave the least indication…"

  "I didn't dare," he said harshly. "You were so young, and it shamed me to feel that way about you. I gave you the only protection I could, and then I got on a train toChicago."

  It sounded odd, that phasing about protection. She tried to focus on what he'd said, but his hands became more insistent, and he lifted her even closer to his aroused body.

  "Feel that," he whispered through his teeth, watching her flush. "It's the most painful arousal I've ever had in my life, and you're a virgin!"

  "Only because … you won't risk making love to me completely," she said unsteadily. "But you knew that already, didn't you?"

  "Of course I knew," he said huskily. "I've always known. But you know, too, that there's no future in it."

  "Why?" she moaned.

  "Because there are too many differences between us in a white world. I have nothing to offer you," he said grimly. His eyes fell to her bare breasts. He touched them, hotly aware of her pleasure in his touch, her abandon. "Nothing," he whispered, moving so that she was against the hard, cold wall. "Except this…"

  His lean hand moved down. He found the hem of her silky gown, and his fingers smoothed up the stocking to the fastening of her garter belt, to the soft muslin of her drawers.

  She made a tiny sound of shock and caught involuntarily at his wrist, but even as she made the token gesture, he groaned deep in his throat and bent to take her hard nipple into his mouth again.

  While he caressed it, her gloved hands clenched beside her head against the seawall, shivering as she felt his bare fingers slide into the hem of the muslin undergarment. She was aware of the moistness of her own body, and faintly embarrassed that he should feel it. His hand shifted just a fraction, and she felt a spasm of pleasure so intense that she cried out.

  His mouth lifted and he looked into her eyes as he touched her, watching her fight for breath, feeling her tremble.

  "You didn't know at all, did you?" he whispered, his eyes narrow and adult and very intent. "And even this is hardly a drop in the ocean of what I can give you."

  She couldn't answer him. She was being drawn and quartered, stretched into a sweet, painful tension that made her body move in ways to encourage and incite his touch into even more pleasurable motions. Mouth open, she gasped rhythmically as he touched her. She saw his face go hard as she suddenly went rigid all over and sobbed, arching toward him, crying as she felt a pleasure so intense that it throbbed like a hot open wound.

  She shuddered and then leaned against him. Her heart was racing like a mad thing; her hands were clutching at his arms for support.

  She heard his own breathing, ragged and unsteady, as his mouth pressed hotly into her throat and he drew her hand down to his flat belly, and lower, over the fabric. She felt him as she'd never felt a man in her life.

  She jerked at the intimacy, but his hand moved again, and she gasped as she felt her own pleasure return as forcibly as before.

  "Help me," he whispered urgently, positioning her fingers and moving them slowly against him. "No, don't try topullback!" he groaned. "I must, Tess, I can't bear the pain!"

  He pushed her hand against the heat and swollen rigidity of him. His cheek slid against hers. He trembled as he whispered to her, shocking, exciting things. And while she let him guide her, he was touching her with the same lazy rhythm, until he groaned harshly into her mouth and his own body went into the same rigor of ecstasy that he'd given her. Even as he shuddered with the pleasure, he groaned and his hand intruded again, deeper this time.

  She cried out because it began to hurt.

  He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. His own were glazed with pleasure, with desire.

  "Don't look away," he said in a stranger's harsh tone, and he nudged her legs farther apart with his knee. His hand moved again, and she felt a sharp pain, a burning.

  "Matt…what are you doing?" she whispered.

  "Don't you know?" He pressed against her and, holding her shocked gaze, he pushed, hard.

  Her mouth opened. It was like being burned there. She stiffened and tears stung her eyes.

  Then, slowly, the pain began to ease. He held her there, searching her eyes.

  All at once she realized what he'd done, what she'd let him do. Her face went scarlet. She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't even think.

  "It wasn't so very bad, was it?" he whispered. His voice was tender, strained. He searched her eyes. "Do you understand what I've done?"

  She couldn't manage words. She nodded. His eyes fell to her swollen mouth and farther down
, to her hard-tipped breasts. His hand moved gently and she flinched. He withdrew it slowly from under her gown, and she felt a new moisture there.

  He reached for his handkerchief and curled it around his fingers before he eased the skirt up once more, still watching her face, and she felt the soft fabric against her skin. She flinched again.

  "I'm sorry," he whispered at her lips. "I know it must be painful."

  She swallowed. "I'm not a virgin anymore, am I?"

  "Yes,you are, in the sense that I didn't penetrate you," he said quietly. "All the same, I had your virginity."