Candace McCarthy

by Fireheart

  Fear kept her frozen as the figure approached. The moon slipped behind a cloud as the warrior came closer. She was so frightened that she didn’t recognize the man before her.

  “Autumn Wind.”

  The sound of his voice released something inside her, and she began to tremble as relief set in. She blinked. “Fireheart?” she called weakly.

  “Kihiila. You are out here all alone. Are you not worried about our enemy?” He set his weapon on the shore, then covered the distance between them, wading through water until he reached her side.

  Her body began to tremble violently. “You frightened me!”

  He frowned. “You did not look frightened.” She turned to face him fully, allowing him to see the rock.

  Fireheart looked startled. “You would fight with that small stone as weapon?” He grabbed it from her hands and tossed it into the lake. “Did you think you could kill with it?”

  “Why are you here?” Joanna cried, embarrassed.

  “You should not be here!”

  “It is good that I am,” he said. “If I had been a Cayuga warrior, you would have been killed or kidnapped.”

  Furious with him, she backed away. “I don’t need you to tell me what could have happened to me.” She stopped to glare at him. “I am well aware that I could have been harmed!”

  Fireheart saw then that Joanna was shaking. Contrite, he moved closer. “Are you all right?” he asked softly. “I did not mean to frighten you.”

  “You did frighten me,” she mumbled reproachfully.

  When he was within a few feet of her, he reached out and pulled her into his arms. “You should have told me you wanted to swim.” He kissed her forehead. He felt the warmth through his being when she trembled at his kiss.

  He held her with her head tucked under his chin and his arms wrapped tightly about her. They stood in the lake, heedless of the water lapping against their bare legs, wetting the hem of Joanna’s Lenape dress.

  “Fireheart?” Her soft voice was muffled against his chest.

  He loosened his hold on her and lifted her head so he could see her face. “What is it, Kitehi?”

  Joanna felt an infusion of warmth at the use of his endearment. He had called her “my heart.” “Is it really unsafe for me to be here?”

  He nodded, releasing her chin. “Until we are sure that our enemy will not come.”

  “But won’t they return to Bear Paw’s village?”

  “We do not know for certain,” he said. “We must be ready for them.”

  She moved her foot, watching the ripples her leg made in the water. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “This man could not rest either,” he admitted.

  She glanced up at him. “Must we go back?”

  Her tone suggested that she was reluctant to return.

  Fireheart made a thorough study of their surroundings. He could sense no danger, saw no sign of the enemy nor of dangerous wildlife in the night.

  “We can stay for a while,” he said, facing her with a smile. “Would you like to swim?”

  Joanna gazed at his wonderful handsome face, and told him with a nod that she would like to swim. The thought occurred to her that she would have to undress. She knew she should be appalled at the idea, but he had seen her before, hadn’t he? And he hadn’t made her feel ashamed of her body. In fact, he had made her feel beautiful, special. She wanted to swim naked again with Fireheart. She shouldn’t, but she wanted to....

  Without glancing his way, she waded back to shore, wondering if he would follow, glad when she heard the swish of water behind her that told her he had. After moving toward her rock, she caught the bottom edge of her tunic and tugged off the garment. She had her back toward Fireheart, and couldn’t judge his reaction, or see what he was doing behind her.

  She was naked beneath the doeskin, and she was immediately conscious of the summer breeze brushing against her bare skin. Joanna lifted the hair from the back of her neck, and allowed it to fall back against her nape. Turning, she encountered Fireheart’s warm gaze studying her with a flame in his eyes that stole her breath.

  Just as she had undressed, Fireheart had done so, too, having removed his loincloth. Joanna swallowed against a dry throat. He was magnificent, a prime example of a well-honed man—broad-shouldered, lean-hipped, muscular, and strong. Fireheart closed the gap between them. The glow in his dark eyes as he neared made her tingle and flush with heat.

  She spun awkwardly and entered the water. She thought she heard his low chuckle as she splashed out into deeper water.

  “Be careful that you don’t drown, Kitehi,” he said with soft laughter.

  “I know how to swim!” she called back. She dipped below the cool surface to help banish the hot flush she felt rise in her cheeks.

  As she swam beneath the water, she had a mental picture of Fireheart with Moon Dove. The heat within her suddenly chilled.

  What was she doing swimming with a man who was promised to another?

  Or was he?

  She still wasn’t sure whether or not their marriage had been formally arranged. She understood that these matters were often decided by the village matrons: mothers of the intended couple, aunts, grandmothers, and other wise women of the tribe.

  She had come out here to forget her past and she had succeeded. But it was the present and the future that bothered her now . . . and her relationship with Fireheart....

  He promised to return to me, she thought with a measure of comfort. Not Moon Dove. But me.

  She rose above the water, slicking back her wet hair with her hands. Joanna turned to look for Fireheart, and saw him a short distance away, floating with his head just above the water, studying her.

  “The water is nice,” she said.

  He didn’t reply; he just watched her. Her body tingling all over, she lay back and closed her eyes, pretending that his presence with her in the lake didn’t disturb her.

  Then she became aware of the way her nipples pebbled into hard little nubs, of the sensual feel of the water trickling into and caressing all her most secret intimate places. Gasping at the sensations, she spun on her stomach and sunk down.

  She allowed her body to float freely, tried to get her mind to float freely as well, but her thoughts were anything but easy and free.

  Fireheart had invaded her thoughts and her heart. She didn’t know how to free herself from him.

  She didn’t know if she wanted to.

  Fireheart watched her for a time, and his pulse quickened as she lay back in the lake, exposing her breasts. It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen a woman’s breasts before, but there was something about Joanna’s ... everything about Joanna stirred his blood, invited him to touch and taste her . . . and crave for more.

  He felt a soft groan well up in his throat, fought hard to suppress it, then found himself rising to his feet before swimming in her direction.

  “Autumn Wind,” he called out to her hoarsely. “Joanna! Wait until I come to you.”

  He slipped under the water, moving through the lake like an eel. Catching her by the arm, he pulled her toward him, rising up out of the lake to kiss her soundly.

  She whimpered and clung, kissing him back with passion. He moaned, deepened the kiss, and felt his desire pulsate to new heights.

  “Autumn Wind,” he murmured.

  She looked at him with water droplets sparkling on her eyelashes. Her eyes were bright, sad almost.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She shook her head, as if unable to answer.

  “Joanna,” he said more sternly.

  “We shouldn’t,” she whispered. “Moon Dove—”

  He frowned. “What about Moon Dove?”

  “This isn’t right. You are going to marry her.”

  “She is not my wife,” he said, annoyed by the suggestion. It hadn’t been decided yet.

  She appeared stung by his words. “And neither am I.”

  “Did you not tell Little Blossom that you must return to Engla
nd?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. He has spoken with Little Blossom.

  “And how is this different? You would kiss and make love and then leave me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You would stay?” His heart hammered with hope.

  “I can’t.”

  “Then why do you worry about Moon Dove when you have no wish to stay here in the Lenape village?”

  At first, silence was her answer. “I’m sorry,” she said. She broke from his hold and began to wade toward the shore.

  He quickly followed her. “Wait.”

  She paused, but didn’t turn around. “Please,” she gasped. “Let me go.”

  He had caught her by the shoulder, his fingers caressing the damp curve. “I don’t want to release you.”

  He felt her shiver. “I have to go!” she cried.

  He stopped her flight. “Autumn Wind, stay.”

  She shook her head, but didn’t leave. He stroked down her arm, caught her wrist, and raised her hand to kiss it.

  As Joanna faced him, he could see her tears. Something knotted within him at this sign of her unhappiness. “I will not hurt you,” he promised.

  “You already have.”

  His stomach muscles tightened. “How?”

  “You shouldn’t touch me, kiss me,” she said breathlessly.

  “How can I not when it is all I want to do?”

  Her gaze flew to meet his with wonder. “When you left earlier with Moon Dove, I thought—”

  “Her mother asked to see me. Moon Dove said it was to talk about her brother White Cat.”

  “And was it?”

  He shook his head. “It was to talk about Moon Dove.”

  “About your marriage?”

  He inclined his head.

  Joanna stared at the man before her, and felt a deep ache in the region of her heart.

  “So, it is set,” she mumbled, pulling away.

  “I have cared for you since you were a child,” he said stiffly, hurt.

  She looked at him. “I know,” she whispered. “And I didn’t see you. How was it that I didn’t see you?”

  One corner of his mouth curved in a crooked smile. “You saw me,” he said. “But I was not big enough or strong enough then.”

  “I am sorry.”

  He stroked a strand of wet hair back from her face. “Perhaps you want Fireheart because you cannot have him?”

  She tensed, jerked away. “Is that what you think?”

  Dropping his hand, he shrugged. “It is not true?”

  Was it true? Joanna wondered, studying the man she loved. She wanted him to give up Moon Dove, yet she had no intention of staying. Was that fair to him?

  No.

  Would she have still wanted him if he declared that he would not marry Moon Dove? He had said that their marriage was not set, yet he didn’t say that it wouldn’t be soon.

  Yes, she would still want him if he chose her over Moon Dove. But the matrons would never permit it. She had been too long away from the Lenni Lenape people. What kind of wife would she make their chief?

  Not as good a Lenape wife as Moon Dove.

  “Please,” she begged, “let us go back.”

  He stared at her hard. “You have given me your answer,” he said without feeling.

  No, she thought. No, I haven’t, but I can’t make promises to you. If I could stay, I might try, but I have to go back to my uncle’s estate. Who would run it if I didn’t? It was the reason I spent all those terrible years with him, wasn’t it?

  They left the water and dressed silently. Joanna avoided looking at Fireheart while he dressed for she was sure she’d give in and plead with him to make love to her right there and then if she looked.

  If only she hadn’t had a taste of what it was like to kiss him, hold him . . . hear his labored breath and his soft groans of pleasure. But she already had that one night . . . a beginning, she’d thought.

  But it hadn’t been a beginning, she realized with sadness. It had been the end.

  Chapter 10

  Neville Manor

  England

  June 1727

  “You know I would marry you if I could,” John whispered as he fondled his lover’s bare breast. “But you know the condition of Burton Estates. I must marry Joanna.”

  Despite his touching her, arousing her, Gillian pouted. “But what of us? What will happen to us when you wed her? I’ll die if I can’t be with you!”

  He smiled before he bent to lick her nipple. He laved the tiny bud with his tongue until he heard her gasp, then lifted his head to meet her gaze.

  “We’ll continue to see each other,” he promised.

  “I’ll set you up in a place of your own, a lovely cottage. And I’ll slip away to you every opportunity that is afforded me.”

  The whole idea sounded sordid to Gillian. She didn’t want to be his mistress. She wanted to be his wife.

  And Joanna was her best friend. If Joanna did marry John, how could she betray her like that?

  He belongs to me! she thought with conviction. Me!

  Still she had her doubts as to the feasibility of his plan. “I don’t know, John,” she said. “Isn’t there some other way to acquire the funds that you need? Perhaps I could ask Father—”

  “No!” John, who had bent his head to kiss her throat, lifted his head and narrowed his gaze. “I’ll not take a single copper from that man.”

  Gillian’s eyes filled with tears. Why couldn’t John and her father be friends? There had been a time when she held on to the hope that she and John would marry with her father’s blessing. For some reason, though, her father had taken an instant disliking to the man of her heart. She’d been trying ever since to change her father’s mind about him.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, reaching up to weave her fingers in his hair. “I know he wasn’t polite to you.”

  His expression softened as she rubbed his scalp and ran her fingers over his face to his lips. His.eyes glowing, he kissed the hand at his mouth, then grabbed it and her other hand, tugged her farther down in bed, then clamped her arms above her head, leaving her arched and open to him.

  “John, no,” she gasped when she saw the look in his gaze. She wasn’t finished discussing his marriage to Joanna, and he was trying to make her forget.

  “Yes.” He laughed softly before, using his mouth, he began a journey from her face to her breasts, where he paused to suckle her, drawing deeply, hard, from each swollen twin.

  Soon, Gillian was writhing on the bed, arching up and into his mouth, begging him to take her, as he released her hands to kiss lower. Her stomach quivered as he dipped his tongue in her navel. The area between her legs filled with liquid warmth as he slowly ventured a path past her hips.

  “Now, John!” she begged, gasping.

  He rose up to eye her with a vision that was clear, calculating almost, but Gillian was too aroused to see. “Say you will continue to be my lover,” he demanded.

  “Yes,” she cried. “Yes! How could I give this up?” He groaned harshly then, and gave into the spiraling ecstasy that so easily ignited between them.

  As they lay, breathing heavily in the aftermath, their minds were already contemplating the next round of lovemaking.

  Days went by, and Joanna kept her distance from Fireheart. How could she not, when to be with him was a reminder of what she could never have?

  With the improvement of Wild Squirrel’s health, she began to visit the sachem daily, spending an hour or more with him each time. His coloring was much better, and the sparkle had returned to his dark eyes. He smiled more and spent a lot of time outside his wigwam, sitting in the yard, watching the children, speaking with the villagers.

  One morning, Joanna was in the yard with him. She sat on a rush mat beside him, helping the chief’s wife shell corn. Stormy Wind smiled as she watched Joanna efficiently strip the cob of its kernels into a bowl from which they’d later be spread out and left in the sun to dry.

>   “I remember you as a little girl,” the woman told her.

  Wild Squirrel nodded. “She was always about, asking questions, offering to help with the work of the women.”

  “You were a beautiful child, and now you are a beautiful woman.”

  Joanna flushed. “Wa-neé-shih.”

  “We wish you to remain in our village,” said Wild Squirrel. “This is your home. You should never have gone to England across the great sea.”

  “I can’t stay,” Joanna said. “I have obligations in England. Now that you are better, Grandfather, I must think of returning.”

  The chief opened his mouth, but his wife’s gentle hand on his arm stopped him from speaking his thoughts. “We must not force her, my husband,” she said softly.

  “But Fire—”

  She silenced him with a finger over his lips. “She might want to leave before Fireheart’s wedding,” she said, glancing at him with meaning.

  The old man blustered. “Why shouldn’t she stay?”

  So they are getting married, Joanna thought, feeling a terrible ache. Stormy Wind was right. The last thing she wanted was to watch as Fireheart and Moon Dove wed.

  “It is true, Grandfather,” she said. “I must go home. I cannot stay to see the wedding.”

  “It is a time for celebration,” Wild Squirrel said.

  “I know,” Joanna murmured. But she couldn’t bear to see the man she loved marrying another.

  “When must you go?” he asked her.

  “Soon,” she said noncommittally. “Soon.”

  She searched for another topic of conversation. She didn’t want to discuss Fireheart. Every time she heard his name she experienced a sharp pain.

  She glanced up from her work, saw Fireheart and Moon Dove on the opposite side of the village yard, talking, touching.

  Joanna gasped and abruptly stood. “Forgive me, Grandmother, Grandfather, but I have something I must do.”

  She fled, out of the village, away from the sight of the pair.

  Wild Squirrel looked at his wife with a sly smile. “You are right, my Wind. She loves Fireheart.”

  The matron nodded. “I see the way she watches him. She is hurting, but will do nothing to stop it.”