Page 30 of The Spirit of the Wolf

“Then you have decided not to take me to St. Louis?”

“Hiya, I have not yet made any decision about this. I am only telling you the conditions I must take into consideration.”

“I see,” she said, then dropped off into silence. The fire crackled merrily, as though unaware of any tension between them.

In due time, he continued to speak. “Perhaps, since now we may talk openly to one another, you might be of assistance to me with this problem. It is good that we may speak of it. Hear me on this. For though you are by rights my wife, and I your husband, until I complete the task set before me, I am not a free man. And perhaps I never will be a free man. Know, therefore, this: a true marriage to me…is impossible.”

She remained mute.

“Thus, so that we both continue to be honorable to each other, let us make a pact between us and pledge to each other from this day forward, no matter how our hearts might tend us, we agree we will not be swayed. To do so could distract me from what I must do. It might do so to you, also.”

Her glance was focused on the ground. “You speak as if we were of long acquaintance and in danger of losing our hearts to one another, Mr. Coyote. And yet we have barely known one another a day.”

“Hau, you speak true. I understand why you say this, and it is possible you do not share the same problem which befalls me. But when I held your hand this day…” He stopped. Though he realized they needed to speak about and around this subject, this particular line of thought was not one he wished to pursue.

Yet she coaxed, “Yes?”

He swallowed hard. “I cannot state more.”

“Cannot?”

He shrugged, jerking his chin to the left. “My wife, you are the first white woman I have ever seen, that I have ever known. By the very laws of nature, I should treat you with respect because you are so different from me. I should admire you, should even withhold the trusts my tongue speaks now, for I fear if we are not careful, you could divert me from the mission that rules my life. Possibly this is true for you too. And yet, even knowing this, here I am, telling you that I find you…beautiful.”

She caught her lip between delicate white teeth, and he stared intently at those lips until he realized what he was doing. Quickly, he looked away.

“Thank you,” she said. “That was kind of you to say.”

“Perhaps. But I did not mean it to be kind. I spoke of this because I believe it is true, and because I wish you to be aware of it. Together, if we agree, we can ensure we will keep each other’s honor.”

He brought his gaze back to hers, watching her as she sucked in a quivering breath, as though her emotions were involved. At the thought, his stomach twisted.

All at once she said, “If this be the case, then maybe it would be best if you simply took me straight to the village of St. Louis, rather than risk spending more time with me by going on to the trading post, and then traveling farther to St. Louis.”

“Perhaps. But know that there is another reason why I am choosing the path to the white man’s trading post.”

“And this reason is?”

“The man I seek might be there. And if he is, I must find him.”

“Oh.”

With the firelight throwing her features into shadow and light, he truly thought she was the most exquisite creature of his acquaintance. “Come now, we have had a good talk, and since we are husband and wife, we are allowed to do this. But I think the time has come for sleep. You should go to sleep now. I have set a buffalo robe toward the back of our lodge for your bed. I will stay here at the front of our abode and keep watch.”

“Yes, yes, of course, you are right. I should sleep. It is late, after all.” She came up onto her knees. But before she crawled to the back of their tiny hideaway, before she wrapped herself up in the warmth of the buffalo robe, she leaned over and said, “Thank you. I appreciate your consideration,” and then she placed a delicate kiss on his cheek.

All his blood seemed to dive and pool below his navel, so great was his reaction to her.

Don’t do it, he told himself. Don’t indulge. She does not understand what she does, perhaps not even its effect on a man.

But her lips were so close, her scent so intriguing, and he had only to reach out a little, turn his head just so.

No, he mustn’t do it. He mustn’t.

Yet, he wondered if he would be quite male if he did not. Slowly, he turned his head.

As his lips came in contact with hers, he thought his body might burst apart from all the energy flooding through him. Suddenly a simple touching of lips to lips was not enough. His hands came up to frame her face, and his mouth slanted hungrily over hers, tasting, licking, kissing, not once, not twice, but over and over again.

He felt her cheeks, then ran his fingers gently down to her neck, over her shoulders. Her skin was an added inducement, for it was as soft as a doe’s, and all at once he yearned to feel every part of her.