Authors: Brenda Joyce
“Ahh, shit.”
His hand was gone and Candice jerked up to see him
standing with a hard, prominent arousal straining his pants. She flushed. The throb of insistent need increased.
“I’m going to take a walk. Go to sleep.” He stared at her with too bright, glinting gray eyes.
Call him back.
He turned and ducked out.
Candice let out another long breath, falling onto her side and clamping her thighs together. She curled up and bit her knuckle. She relived every moment of what had just occurred, then every moment of their relationship since he had found her unconscious in the desert. And by the time she had reached the present, she was crying.
She imagined him coming home every night to Datiye, sharing a meal with her, sharing his day, a bed. But he hadn’t loved her. Oh, no. He had loved his first wife, Chilahe. He had loved her so much he couldn’t even talk about it. He must have been more than in love with her—he must have been crazy about her.
It was a long time before she fell asleep.
The next morning Candice awoke to the sounds of a crowd gathered close to the
gohwah
. When she had fidlen asleep last night, Jack had not returned, and her last waking thoughts had been that he had gone to Datiye. And now, noticing grimly that he was not with her in the
gohwah
, she was wondering again if he had spent the night with his former wife.
She hurriedly dressed and rebraided her hair, then stepped outside. The black stallion was prancing wildly, and Hayilkah was standing not far away, a rifle aimed and pointed at the stallion. Candice froze, unable to believe what was about to happen—that the Apache was going to kill one of the most magnificent animals she had ever seen. She heard a shrill, eerie war cry.
It was Jack.
He reached Hayilkah and grabbed the barrel of the rifle. They wrestled over it, straining against each other. Hayilkah was wearing only a breechcloth, and his huge, broad body, so unusual for an Apache, rippled with thick muscle. Jack, although powerful and a big man, was taller and not quite as broad. He was bare-chested, and his back rippled as he fought for the rifle. A sharp word from Shozkay made both men pause, still tensed against each other, both gripping the rifle. Shozkay pushed between them and grabbed the gun. Jack stepped back, panting, looking murderous. Hayilkah began yelling angrily.
“What’s he saying?” Candice demanded. Everyone was listening intently to the tirade.
“He says Niño Salvaje cheated him,” Luz told her. “Trading him a devil in a horse’s body. He tried to shoot the
horse, but Niño Salvaje stopped him. Hayilkah wants you back.”
Candice let loose a sharp cry, causing Jack to flash a hot silver glance at her. “What will happen?” That thought was too terrifying to contemplate.
Shozkay was talking in authoritarian tones. Both Jack and Hayilkah were listening and exchanging angry, hostile glances. It was clear that they wanted to fight.
“Shozkay is chief. He will decide what is fair,” Luz interpreted softly. “He will decide by the time of White Painted Woman.”
“White Painted Woman?”
“When the moon comes.”
Shozkay turned his back on the two men and came over to them. Half the band had gathered, including Datiye, and the sight of her made Candice go rigid—especially when Datiye gave her a hate-filled glance. Shozkay was speaking kindly to her. “Don’t worry, Sister. I will decide fairly.”
Candice was barely listening. She had been too busy ignoring Datiye. She turned back to Jack and Hayilkah, who were staring at each other. She gasped as the two men stood tensed on the balls of their feet and began to slowly circle and approach each other.
“They’re going to fight!” she cried. “Shozkay, stop them!”
Shozkay was watching. “No, this will happen, if not today, another time. It is better that it be now.”
Candice was suddenly afraid—afraid that Hayilkah would kill Jack.
The two men were circling each other slowly, intensely. Candice couldn’t take her eyes off them, both so powerful and so intent. Suddenly Datiye hissed in her ear, “If he dies, it is your fault!”
“My fault?” She was incredulous.
Datiye turned rudely away, but Luz took Candice’s hand, speaking softly. “Salvaje is furious because of the way Hayilkah treated you. That is what they were arguing about just now. He is also angry because Hayilkah examined you, when it should have been his wife or his wife’s mother.”
As she absorbed that, Hayilkah lunged. Jack easily sidestepped, and Hayilkah quickly regained his balance, facing
him again. Jack danced lightly just beyond Hayilkah’s reach. Hayilkah approached, but was waiting, and the crowd grew tense. Candice wiped sweat from her brow. Hayilkah suddenly kicked one foot out lethally, and had it caught Jack in his abdomen, it would have knocked him down easily. But Jack had anticipated it, deftly moving aside, and the brave’s kick swept empty air. Just as his foot landed, while he was still off balance, Jack suddenly took two hard, short steps, planting himself right in front of Hayilkah. He hit him with a powerful kick to the jaw, then landed lightly on his feet—while Hayilkah staggered backward, but didn’t fall.
Hayilkah was angry. He charged. Jack waited until the last moment, then stepped aside, one forearm coming out and strangling Hayilkah’s throat, seeking a headlock but unable to find one. The movement caused the brave to jerk back, and Jack hit him brutally in the kidneys twice, following with a left to his jaw. Then he jumped back. Hayilkah panted, but stayed on his feet.
The two men continued to circle. Candice couldn’t believe that Hayilkah hadn’t even gone down once under Jack’s two attacks, and it sickened her. Jack was covered with sweat, his chest and face gleaming, but he was barely breathing. She clenched her fists.
Jack darted in, jabbing with his left, following through with a right that would have broken through a pine wall. It connected with Hayilkah’s nose, and blood gushed from it. But as Jack danced back, Hayilkah struck with a kick that caught Jack in the stomach, and he fell onto his back. Candice screamed.
Hayilkah dove on top of him.
With one hand, he held Jack’s hair, with his other, he dealt a blow to Jack’s face while Jack lay gasping for breath. Jack tried to throw him off, his hands barely affecting Hayilkah. Hayilkah punched him again. Jack lifted his knees. He couldn’t get them up to kick Hayilkah off. Hayilkah raised his fist.
Candice didn’t think. With a cry, she catapulted onto Hayilkah’s back, sinking her teeth into his shoulder, tasting sweat, salt, and blood, and she bit with every ounce of strength she had. Hayilkah yelled, staggering to his feet, Candice still on his back, her teeth still in his flesh. Jack was
already up, but Candice couldn’t relax. With a howl, Hayilkah threw her away from him, and she landed flat on her back in the dirt.
The tribe roared with laughter.
Candice sat up, dazed.
She focused, blinking, and thought she saw Jack staring at her in surprise.
Then Shozkay was grabbing her, two strong hands around her waist, pulling her out of the circle. “No!” Candice shouted. She struggled wildly. “Let me go! Stop this suicide! I demand you stop it! He’s going to kill Jack!”
Shozkay shook her, hard. Candice stopped protesting because the two men were circling each other again, and she realized there was nothing she could do to stop the insanity. Shozkay said, “He knows now not to get close to Hayilkah.”
For many minutes Jack kept to the defensive, dancing away from Hayilkah, keeping just out of his reach, easily dodging his lunges, his charges, playing it safe. Candice started to feel hope. If only he coula keep this up indefinitely, he could tire Hayilkah out. But she wasn’t sure how long he could hold up. His face was bleeding from a gash over one eye and another at his mouth, and he was drenched with sweat. Now his chest was rising and falling rapidly, and he was breathing through his mouth. His silver eyes were hard with concentration, never wavering from his enemy. But Hayilkah looked every bit as tired.
Suddenly Jack took two steps in and leapt at Hayilkah with both feet. The blow hit Hayilkah high on the chest and sent him staggering backward. Jack kept coming. Another kick connected with Hayilkah’s jaw. Blood spurted. Hayilkah went down on his butt. Jack kicked again, to the head, and there was a crack as Hayilkah fell back against the dirt.
Jack backed off, tense and coiled, panting. He waited, out of reach, regaining his breath. Shozkay said quietly, “It is an old Apache ploy to pretend to be hurt and then take the other by surprise.” Candice bit her lip. She prayed.
He stepped closer. Hayilkah’s hand shot out, reaching for Jack’s ankle. Jack barely jumped away, stumbling from the contact, turning just in time to meet Hayilkah’s lumbering charge. Hayilkah was tired. He moved with effort, which gave Jack time to get out of the way. As Hayilkah moved
past, Jack reached out, yanking his shoulder, and let loose with a right to his head. Hayilkah swayed. Jack hit him again, still holding him, and again. Hayilkah crumpled. Jack stepped back, coiled, and slammed him with a near-fatal kick. He lay very still.
There were shrieks from the Indians, and suddenly Jack was surrounded, being congratulated heartily. He staggered, panting heavily, one hand on his mouth, wiping away blood.
Candice stared, trembling. She couldn’t move. She watched as Shozkay put his arm around Jack, speaking softly, only to be shoved aside by Datiye. She threw her arms around him, but Jack held her away. Over her head, he looked at Candice. Their eyes met. His were bold and triumphant. Something primitive and eternal coursed through Candice. She walked forward, not taking her eyes from him. A path cleared before her. Jack watched her approach, his eyes glittering. She grabbed Datiye by the back of her dress, pulling her aside. Candice took Jack’s hand. He followed her wordlessly through the crowd, and Candice led him down to the creek, away from the turmoil and excitement.
She could feel the energy, the barely controlled blood-lust crackling in his body, sparking from his hand to hers. She was exhilarated from what had just happened, as the significance of it sank in. Jack had almost killed that warrior, not just because of the horse—but for her.
He sank to the ground, and Candice took his knife and cut a strip from her skirt. With shaking hands and a pounding heart, she soaked it in water, moving beside him, freezing when she met his eyes. His look made her heady—the proud look of triumph, the hot look of lust. She gently inspected the gash above his eye, trying not to tremble. It was as if the primitive fire running in his veins was being transmitted to hers.
“You need to be tended to,” she murmured huskily. “Are you sore?”
“Very,” he returned. He flinched as she cleaned the gash.
“Don’t move.”
“Just what did you think you were doing?”
She knew exactly what he was talking about. “I was helping you,” she said tersely.
He reached out and touched her hair. “Yes, you were,
weren’t you?” His voice was husky. “Tell me the truth, Candice.”
Candice froze.
“Why did you do that? Because you hate Hayilkah, or because you wanted to help me?”
Candice hesitated. “I owed you,” she finally said. And that was true. “Remember? You saved my life, and now I’ve saved yours. We’re even.”
He studied her out of intense glittering eyes. “I saved your life twice, Candice. You still owe me.”
She couldn’t take another breath. From the look in his eyes she knew what he was thinking, and how he was going to have her repay him. She got to her feet quickly, breathlessly. But his hand on her wrist stopped her, pulling her down beside him, the pressure hard enough to hurt. “Jack.”
His hand found her jaw, holding her head still, poised to receive his mouth, When he spoke, ms breath was warm. “Do you know why I wanted to kill Hayilkah, Candice?”
She managed to shake her head. He had half his body on top of hers.
“No one abuses what belongs to me,” he said. “Not my horse. Not my woman.” His mouth came down hard on hers, and she was helpless to resist.
“You belong to me,” he breathed, running his callused hands over her breasts and her hips. He held her head still again to violently rape her mouth with his tongue.
His words echoed. Her body flamed. She felt a rushing thrill and there was no denying it. Candice had her arms around him, clutching his wet, slick back, her nails digging into his flesh. She thrust her tongue against his, past his, boldly. He groaned and kneed her thighs apart, settling his hard groin against hers. Grinding. Candice found his hips, then his buttocks, pulling him closer, their mouths clinging and clashing desperately, and she arched her pelvis against him, mindlessly, again and again. She heard a wild, primitive moaning as his mouth trailed to her throat, kissing and biting, soothing and hurting, and she was vaguely surprised that she was making those sounds.
“Mine,” he rasped, ripping open the front of her dress and pushing up her breasts and nuzzling them. He took a nipple with his teeth and tugged on it before suckling
fiercely. Candice cried out, convulsing. Never, never, never had she thought it could be like this between a man and a woman …
He knelt between her thighs, pushing her dress up. She moaned, panting, wanting. She felt this hands slide across her swollen, pink flesh and she cried out again, arching against his hand.
“Ahh, God.” He groaned, and then he lowered his head and began to tongue her.
Candice grasped his head, anchoring it, and began to sob. Convulsing waves swept through her. Escalating, intensifying. His tongue was so deft, laving the swollen nub, exploring the slick folds … she couldn’t stand it.…
She cried out as her world exploded.
Abruptly he drove into her, again and again, his hands on her hips, claiming her in the most primitive way possible. And then he was collapsing on top of her, shuddering violently, his face buried in her neck, and the groan that sounded said, “Mine.”
He shifted off her, onto his back. She could hear his harsh breathing begin to slow, and she could hear hers. She rolled onto her side, sanity flooding her.
Oh, God
.