Captive Bride (45 page)

 
Rozalyn was afraid to believe his hushed words. She had waited an eternity to hear them and now she feared she had only imagined them. Remembered pain came rushing back to fill her with doubt. She recalled how hurt she had been when Hawk had been bargaining with Aubrey. She had told herself over and over again that she could live with a one-sided love, that she would expect no more of Hawk than the passion he could give. Now his confession aroused conflicting emotions. She desperately wanted to believe him, but the voice of reason bade her to beware.

 
"You needn't speak of more than passion, Hawk. It is enough," she quietly assured him, battling for composure.

 
His hand curled beneath her chin, forcing her to meet his level gaze. "No, it isn't enough," he contradicted. "Not any more. Desire and passion cannot touch what I feel for you.
 
Perhaps you
 
do not
 
return my deep affection, but I can no longer hide what I feel. It is tearing me to pieces to keep it bottled up inside me. I love you and I want to say it each time emotion overflows from my heart. Believe me, Roz. I make no false claim. I have no motive for voicing my affection other than to satisfy a need to do so."

 
Rozalyn stared up at him, and the naked emotion in his beguiling green eyes dissolved her fears. She lifted a hand and then traced the strong line of his jaw. "And I can no longer disguise what I have felt for you since the day we met. That first night ... so long ago ... I didn't want to believe love could truly be staring me in the face. But it was," she whispered. "I realized you were the man I had conjured up in my dreams, the faceless image that had finally emerged from the shadows. I couldn't get over loving you, even when I thought I had been betrayed. And I love you now, though I know my soul will wither and die when summer comes. But I accept whatever terms I am allowed. I want today and all the tomorrows that await me in your arms."

 
"Even when you know we can't have forever?" Hawk queried softly. "Can you still love me as if we had an eternity when you are well aware the time will come when we will be forced to say goodbye?"

 
Rozalyn nodded slightly, and a rueful smile pursed her lips. Lovingly she ran her fingers through his tousled hair. "I will do what I must to be granted what time we can have, but I won't stop loving you when summer comes. My father may take me away, but he cannot strip me of my memories. I will look back on this winter in the mountains and I will remember."

 
Hawk eased onto his side, turning Rozalyn so that her shapely body was molded familiarly to him, and entwining her fingers in his, he gazed into the dancing flames, watching them skip across the glowing logs. "Then we will make these months ours . . . until it's time for you to go," he promised huskily. "I prefer to love you, even though I know I will be forced to give you up. It is preferable to spending the winter fighting churning emdtions. I have battled myself far too long as it is."

 
Rozalyn twisted to face him, looping her arms over his muscular shoulders. "We shall make the most of our time together. We have the winter and the spring. They will be the most beautiful of seasons, and in years to come, I will look back and remember the glorious time when the world was ours."

 
Her parted lips whispered over his, kindling a flame that could never burn itself out, and then she moved suggestively against him, sensitizing every part of his being. "Do you know the moment I first fell in love with you” Hawk laughed softly, striving to keep his mind on her words rather than the arousing way her hips arched to his. "No, minx. It's a wonder to me that I impressed you when the rest of your beaux met with defeat."

 
Rozalyn ignored his remark, and her hand absently trailed along the sinewed columns of his legs. She didn't want to think of men who had not stirred her to deep emotion. "It was when you dared to seduce me right under
Grand'mere's
nose."

 
"And I knew I would never forget the mischievous imp who offered me a kiss that carried a bit," he chortled. "I proclaimed you were the light and love of my life—and it was no lie I gave." A ragged sigh bubbled from his chest as he nuzzled against the silky flesh of her shoulder. "I do love you, Roz. I knew I had met my match. The torment of believing you hated me for betraying you was agony to bear."

 
His quiet words softened her, and she regretted the harsh, biting remarks she had made to soothe her injured pride. "Hawk? If I ask something of you, will you answer me honestly?" Rozalyn knew she had no right to request this of him but she was aching to know.

 
He leaned back to peer into her quizzical blue eyes. "What is it,
chere amie
?"

 
"When winter comes again . . . and I have gone away . . ." Roz tried to express her thoughts in a delicate manner so Hawk would not be annoyed by her prying question. "When you long for a woman . . ."

 
His tanned finger glided across her Tips, quieting her and a tender smile grazed his lips. "This is our hideaway . . . yours and mine. The memories that linger here will remain always. Hear this and believe it, sweet nymph. This cabin will stand as a monument to the love we share. It will be all I have left. And no matter how far away you are, part of you will remain here with me."

 
Hawk hadn't said that another woman wouldn't satisfy his passions, but at least he had said their love mattered to him. He was a man who had been attracted to many women. She could not expect his fidelity in years to come, but the thought of another woman sleeping in his arms tore her heart in two.

 
"While you are flitting about St. Louis with a procession of men trailing after you, vying for your attention, will you allow—"

 
It was Rozalyn's turn to press her finger to his lips to silence his question. She realized it would be impossible to cling to an emotion that couldn't last forever or to make promises neither of them might not be able to keep in the years to come. "I was wrong to question you, to expect you to predict your future. Nor can I foretell mine. I suppose we must both do what we must to survive." Her voice trembled, and her eyes swam with tears. "But for now, love me for all the tomorrows we cannot share together."

 
Ever so gently, Hawk pressed her onto her back, his kisses and caresses silently communicating the pleasure he discovered when he touched her. His breath whispered over the satiny slope of her shoulder, his lips brushing the throbbing peaks of her breasts as his hands reverently mapped the soft planes of her body, coaxing, arousing, spreading an invisible coverlet of rapture over her skin. His tongue flicked; his lips possessed. His
 
caresses weaved intricate patterns across her belly before his hands receded to circle each dusky peak. His skillful touch was like that of a harpist stroking the strings, making her body sing with exquisite pleasure. It was sweet agony. Rozalyn knew she could never forget
 
the green-eyed
 
rogue
 
with
 
hair as black as midnight. How could she submit to another man after she'd enjoyed Hawk's lovemaking? Their love had had its own unique design, one that could never be duplicated.

No, she could not love again when the very essence of her would remain locked in this secluded mountain cabin.

That despairing thought made her impulsively clutch Hawk to her.
     

 
When he came to her, catching her cry of rapture in his mouth, taking her into space, Rozalyn surrendered her soul to him, and, momentarily, the tormenting thoughts that had crept from the shadows of her mind were forgotten. This was her reason for being, giving and sharing her love. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, the love would have short life, but its flight was spectacular. On velvet wings it skimmed the earth and then gracefully drifted aloft on a current of wind, dipping, diving, sailing as if its flight would continue forever. . . .

 
And so it was to be, through the winter and the rebirth of spring. The harsh cold of the high mountains did not dampen the beauty of their ill-fated love, which grew more precious and meaningful with each passing months spinning a silken bond that blocked out their grim future. This was their time for loving, and it was magnificent, like the sun sparkling on the blanket of snow that cloaked the majestic Mountains of the Wind.

Chapter 23

 
A muddled frown captured Hawk's brow when he stepped onto the stoop and saw Rozalyn lying in the snow, moving her arms and legs in exaggerated sweeping motions. "What the devil are you doing?" he asked, then laughed incredulously.

 
Rozalyn raised her head and grinned impishly. "I'm making angels in the snow," she informed him, then bounded to her feet to display her efforts. Gesturing about her, Rozalyn indicated several celestial imprints in the fluffy snow.

 
Hawk chuckled at her playfulness. It was one of the many things he adored about his free-spirited enchantress. Because of it, when she was with him, there was never a dull moment, and Rozalyn had seemed even more lively the past few months. Hawk basked in the warmth of her love; then, shaking his head at her silliness, he strode off the porch. But when he attempted to pull her into his arms, she fell backward to create another angel in the snow.

 
He frowned disappointedly as Rozalyn peered up at him with dancing blue eyes. "Don't you want to help me? Surely imprints of angels will ward off the evil spirits the Indians believe to be lurking in the mountains."

 
"I'm a grown man." Hawk sniffed distastefully. "I have better things to do than make childish snowprints."

 
"Oh?" One perfectly arched eyebrow lifted as she regarded his haughty stance. "like what, for instance, monsieur?"

 
A grin of roguish anticipation spread across Hawk's clean-shaven face, and he strode closer, his dark shadow eventually falling over the playful nymph who was frolicking in the snow. "Things that separate boys from men. Why would I wish to make angels when I could be making love!" Rozalyn's light-hearted laughter rang through the crisp air as Hawk straddled her, pressing her deeper into the snow. "Mmmm . . . this is more to my liking," he growled seductively. Pinning her arms above her head, he nibbled at her frosty lips, making them melt beneath his. "These are the things a man does while boys are off playing. ..."

 
Rozalyn squirmed beneath Hawk, her movements arousing him rather than discouraging him. "Where is your youthful spirit?" she taunted. "You will grow old before your time if you do not allow yourself the simple pleasures in life."

 
"My youthful spirit is here," Hawk murmured as he settled himself full length upon her. "She has been my companion these past few months, my constant source of amusement and pleasure."

 
"And you are squashing her flat," Rozalyn giggled. "Unhand me, sir. I came to frolick in the snow, not to be buried in it."

 
Reluctantly, Hawk pulled himself up on his knees, only to have Rozalyn vault to her feet. With a bubble of laughter, she gave him an abrupt shove that sent him sprawling and evoked a startled squawk. Her giddy laughter danced on the breeze as she bounded away, leaving Hawk staring up at the early morning sun. Rolling to his feet, he raced after her in fast pursuit, swearing to get even with her for her prank.

 
Rozalyn yelped when she found herself scooped from the ground and hurled into a tall drift, and before she could fight her way through the snow, Hawk lunged at her. The chill of being half-buried in snow evaporated when his body molded itself to hers. Her damp lashes fluttered up to view the boyish grin that cut deep lines into his swarthy features. Lord, how she loved him. They had laughed and loved away the winter in this secluded paradise, and just when she swore she couldn't fall any deeper in love with Hawk, he graced her with one of his charismatic smiles and she was even more lost to him. Suddenly realizing that within a few months, she'd never witness another of his radiant grins made her soul bleed.

 
The playfulness vanished from her features. This was to be their last day at the cabin. Hawk had announced that they were traveling to Fort Cass and then on to Yellowstone to trap beaver in the spring. A desperate urgency to recapture the pleasure they had shared overwhelmed Rozalyn, and her arms slid around his waist. Drawing him closer, she kissed him heatedly.

 
Hawk sensed her need, saw in her eyes a frantic hint of fear. "Don't look at me as if it were over, as if this dream were about to come to an end," he said huskily. "This wonderland is still ours, Roz. We have the spring. I will show you sights that exceed your wildest imagination and I will take you in my arms each night when darkness casts its mystical shadow on the mountains."

 
"Do you promise, Hawk?" Her eyes were wide, like those of a young child anticipating an adventure that will live forever in memory. "Will we have other gloriously loving moments?"

 
"Scores of them," he assured her before his mouth swooped down on hers, stealing her breath and chasing away her fears.

As Rozalyn responded to his fiery kiss, the familiar weight of his sleek body forged into hers. The fire he kindled within her flared and sent her blood to simmering.