Gray Hawk's Lady: Blackfoot Warriors, Book 1 (22 page)

His lips captured hers again, his tongue playing inside her mouth. But only for a moment.

Down lower he bent, his lips, his tongue, kissing her neck, her chest, then each of her breasts.

She arched her back, inviting him to do more. And he did.

His hands massaged, kneaded the soft mounds of her flesh while his lips and tongue caressed her nipples.

And then he kissed her lower, his lips making a trail over her chest, her ribs, her stomach. His hands still massaged her breasts.

Down lower even still.

“Gray Hawk?” she asked, suddenly afraid. “What…?”

She couldn’t say more. He had parted her legs, his lips even now teasing her there between her legs.

“Gray Hawk, I—”

He gazed up toward her, though his lips never ceased creating their magic.

“Gray Hawk, I can’t… I mean…surely we can’t…” She had meant to protest a bit more, but somehow the words died in her throat. She’d never felt anything like this, and though she knew this couldn’t be right, all thoughts of modesty, of stopping him, evaporated as water did to dry air, replaced instead with raw desire.

She groaned. “Gray Hawk?”

His only answer was more kissing, his tongue doing things to her of which she’d never dare speak.

And it was all rather confusing, because Genevieve, having been taught by the “best authorities,” knew that sex, although a necessary part of a commitment between two people, was something to be endured, not enjoyed.

She’d learned thoroughly what lay ahead of her in the marriage bed if ever she were to commit. And the more learned the “authorities,” the more it had been brought home to her that the sexual act was no more than a painful experience, something to be tolerated and suffered in silence while the man fulfilled his needs.

A “good” woman, she’d been told, felt nothing. A “good” woman would never respond to a man.

There was no enjoyment to be had.

Well, she thought, they had all lied.

She
was
a good woman; she lived a clean life, one filled with good intentions toward her friends and associates; and never, not ever, had she felt anything more resembling rapture, anything so sensual, so arousing, so…beautiful.

Yes, she knew without hesitation, there had been no truth in what she’d been told.

Truth?

Suddenly it came to her—what it was between them, herself and this wild Indian. She knew all at once the meaning of it.

It had been there all along, of course, but because of the wide gaps in their cultures, in their beliefs, the knowledge would never have materialized had they not been thrown together as they had.

She loved him.

She wasn’t sure how it had happened, or even when it had first started.

But she knew she loved him.

And it didn’t matter that he was Indian or that she was white.

He was a man and she was a woman, and she loved him, that love as deep and as strong as if they had known each other all their lives.

She ran her hands through his long hair, and he looked up at her briefly, though he never paused in his ministrations.

“I love you,” she said, and, closing her eyes, she gave him wider access for what he was doing, not noticing his slight hesitation.

It began to build then, the feeling, the ache down there, and she moved her hips against him that she might feel it better.

Her breathing became shallow, the pleasure becoming more intense, increasing to a crescendo—and all at once it happened, a crazy, overpowering sensation, a culmination of all this mad desire.

She’d never known anything like this, never dreamed such excitement existed. She whimpered; she moaned, suppressing the desire to scream. But from somewhere, perhaps far away, she heard herself repeating, over and over, “I love you, Gray Hawk. I love you.”

But Gray Hawk didn’t say a word.

In essence, her declaration had shocked him, and it was all he could do at the moment to lie still and feel the depths of her pleasure, her emotion.

He would not seek his own pleasure. Not this time. It was enough to contemplate hers.

Besides, Gray Hawk thought in the aftermath, as he laid his head upon her thigh, breathing in the delicious scent of her, he had never experienced anything quite like this himself.

He had felt a part of her, somehow. It was not something that had ever occurred to him in all of his affairs in the past.

Something was different here, and he couldn’t place just what. But perhaps, if he were honest with himself, he might have admitted to feeling a touch of love toward her as well.

But Gray Hawk was not quite so open, nor so keen at appraising his own feelings with regard to this woman.

All he knew at the moment was that he felt wonderful, completely and utterly fantastic.

And…he wanted more.

Chapter Fourteen

“We will have to marry. It is the only way.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Do not be upset because of what has happened to us. I will do the honorable thing; I will marry you.”

Genevieve gulped. “But why?”

He gave her an annoyed looked. “Must I teach you everything? How is it that you do not know that when a woman submits to a man as you have to me, there are only two choices left to her? If she is lucky, the man will marry her. If she is not, then she will have to live with the disgrace of what she has done all her life. I am offering to marry you. I will ensure your reputation.”

“I see,” she said. “And what happens to the man?”

“What do you mean?” He gazed at her, puzzled.

“The man who ‘disgraces’ her. Does he, too, live a life of humiliation thereafter?”

“Of course not.”

“Well, why not? He was a party to the action too.”

“
Haiya
,
you are a difficult woman.”

“But truthful.”

“I do not make the rules that my people follow. I have not caused these things to be. I only know it is the way of things. The woman will be disgraced if she submits; the man will brag. Perhaps it is not how it should be,” he conceded, “but it is the way things are.

“In my camp,” he continued, “the man is not a man if he does not try to make a conquest of a woman. If he succeeds with her, her reputation will be tainted for the rest of her life.”

Genevieve gasped. “Even a young girl who does not yet understand the way of life?”

He nodded. “Young girls, after reaching a certain age, are taught never to be alone with a boy. It is also understood that there are sometimes mistakes and that a man will try to mislead a woman. It is also why a woman is never alone with a man.”

“Never?”

He nodded his head. “Not if she wishes to safeguard her reputation.”

“And a man?”

Gray Hawk chuckled. “He will have a better reputation if he succeeds.”

“Why, that’s terrible.”

He shrugged. “For the woman, perhaps.”

“I don’t understand. Have you done this? You seem to have an extensive knowledge of…” She felt blood rush to her face. “…of things of a carnal nature. Have you, then, taken advantage of a young woman?”

He shook his head. “It has not been my interest. Some young boys make a habit of trying to ruin young maidens. I have not had that desire. There are too many widows in our camp only too eager to please a man. And these widows, I am told, know many more ways in which to enjoy the act of lovemaking.”

“Gray Hawk!”

He smiled and tilted his head toward her. “Why court trouble when I have wished to remain unmarried? It has happened that a man is sometimes caught by the maiden’s relatives—and that he is forced to marry her. I have not wished this to happen to me, nor has there been a girl with whom I might want to take a chance.”

“If that is so, then why did you…with me… you—”

“We have been alone on the trail much too long, and you have been too tempting.”

“But I—”

“Understand this, Gen-e-vee. When we get to my village, you will have to live with my people. If we come there without my taking you as my woman, you will be disgraced—and perhaps, if I do not make a move to protect you, you would be expected to perform with others that which you have given me.”

“No!”

“It is why we will marry.”

“But I cannot.”

“And why can you not? Do you think that I offer this to you easily? Do you think that I yearn for this?”

She didn’t answer.

“It is not an easy thing for me to do, to offer you marriage. I have enjoyed my unattached state. I like it very much. It has given to me a great deal of freedom, and that makes me reluctant to end it. But if I do not do it, you will be dishonored or worse.”

She cocked her head to the side and gave him a curious glance. “Why should you care?” she asked.

“Do you forget so soon that you came to my defense when I least expected it? Do you not remember that you perhaps saved my life?”

She stared at him for a moment. “So that’s what this is all about. Because I saved your life, you feel that…” She lowered her voice, speaking as though to herself, though he heard every word. “It doesn’t have anything to do with what happened between us… It—” She raised her voice. “I thought you hated me.”

“No,” he said. “Perhaps once—”

“Ah, so you admit it.”

He sent her a gloomy look. “I had once thought that it was you who had captured me, who’d had me stripped, who’d intended to use my body to sate her own. It was only right that I seek revenge upon such a person. And it is true, I would have cared little for this person.”

“But I never—”

“I know that now.”

“You
do?”

He nodded. “
Aa
,
yes, it is so.”

“And you want to marry me?”

“Understand me, white woman. Not want. Must.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. She said, “Well, I cannot.”

He felt like shaking her, startling her, throwing in her face the declaration of love that she’d made to him in the throes of passion. But he would not.

Such an action would be considered cowardly, as well as unmannerly. And the Blackfoot Indian was anything but ill-behaved.

“Besides,” she was speaking to him again, “how would anyone know what has happened between us unless you tell it?”

He gave her an exasperated look. Did the white woman know nothing?

“We are on Blackfoot land. Scouts are all around us. Some could have seen us.”

She gasped.

“Not that I believe any did. But that is not the point. Just by your presence with me—unchaperoned—others will think that the worst has occurred. They will also ask me about it, for all will want to know of your virtue or lack of it. And I cannot lie.”

“Why not?”

“I am not the white man, that I—” He stopped himself. It would do no good to berate her race. No, she was his responsibility now, and it was up to him to teach her about the honest, Indian way to live. He said, “Because to my people, to lie is to be labeled a coward, and worse. For a man to lie would be to disgrace himself, as well as to tempt bad luck for himself and for his family. This, no Blackfoot Indian would do. The Blackfoot beliefs are not like the white man’s. The Indian does not only live his religion for a few days out of the moon cycle. The Blackfeet are with their god always. Everything they do is connected to their beliefs. And above all, an Indian must be truthful with himself and with others. There can be no deceit when one lives his beliefs constantly.”

“But we also—”

He held up his hand. “You forget that I have lived a full year with the white man. I have known the Black Robes and I listened well to them—and I observed. The white man mutters to his god about truthfulness but lies behind the backs of his friends and his enemies. I saw white men cheat; I saw white men lie. I saw white men promise strict behavior and then betray it all.”

“But the men you are basing your opinions on,” she said, “are frontiersmen, and many of them are the thieves and scoundrels of our society, come to the West to escape punishment. Surely you have such people among the Blackfeet.”

“Yes,” he said, “but not many. Those who do such things are cast out of the village and do not survive long on their own.”

She nodded. “It is the same in our society. The men you are meeting here have been cast out of our society, but instead of dying off alone somewhere, they come to the West, where, if they are able, they survive.”

He breathed in deeply. He considered her words for a long time. Perhaps, he thought, he had passed judgment without having a full understanding of the entirety of what was occurring within the white race. Perhaps not.

At length he said, “Our talk, Gen-ee, while it is interesting, takes us too far from the point, which is this: we will marry.”

She sighed. “You do not understand, Gray Hawk. I cannot.”

He sat looking at her for several moments, until suddenly he rose.