Dakota Dream (41 page)

"Oh, yes," he said in a whisper. "I like it very much. It is very beautiful—like you."

Immensely flattered, her anger melting, she mumbled, "It's not that good. I'm a little rusty."

"I have never seen a painting of such perfection. But the thing I like best about it," he added, his voice a soft low caress, "is that you did it for me." He started toward her, a sensual glaze clouding his eyes.

Using all of her resolve, the last of her strength, Dominique pulled the stick from the fire and held it between their bodies, narrowly missing his exposed navel with the red-hot tip. "Oh, no, you don't," she warned, backing up.
"None of that, Mr. Redfoot.
We came in here for one reason and one reason only. Now, talk. You have a lot to explain, my darling husband."

Chuckling to himself, Jacob gave her a slow, lazy grin. Hooking his thumbs over the waistband of his cavalry trousers, he said, "Sorry if I'm having trouble remembering why we're in here. I've had many things on my mind these past few days—you in particular. I have been worried about you. I see by your many injuries I had cause."

"Don't change the subject. You know what we're here to discuss. Tell me all about this wedding I didn't know I was at.
Who said 'I do' for me?"

He cocked his head. "I do?"

Exasperated, Dominique threw the stick to the ground. "How in God's name did you manage to marry me without my knowledge? Can you answer me that? And please tell me why you married me? I mean, was this absolutely necessary?"

"I see your tongue has suffered no injuries in my absence," he sliced in.

Grumbling inwardly, Dominique produced her best pout and stared up at him with mournful eyes.

Knowing from experience those beautiful eyes would flood with tears any minute, Jacob held up his hand. "Please, don't do that. I will try to explain."

The pout vanished. "Well? Go on. I can't wait to hear your newest lie."

"I have no need for more lies. I did what I had to do in order to protect you from the other warriors. If I hadn't married you, they would have used you for their own pleasure while I was away."

"Thanks for that much, Jacob, but couldn't you at least have
asked
me? Don't Lakota women usually know when they're about to become someone's wife?"

"Lakota women, yes," he said with a smile. "And I did mean to speak to you before the ceremony, but I'm afraid your flapping tongue left me no choice.''

"I see," she said, her eyes glittering. "So you just wrapped me in your blanket, took me to your tipi, and bam, we're married. Is that it?"

"Pretty much."

"Some ceremony, Jacob.
Very impressive.
How do you intend to divorce me? Unwrap your blanket and spin me out the front door?"

Laughing as that image flashed in his mind, he said, "Divorce is a little more complicated, but not much. I must say to you in public that I divorce you. Then the marriage is no more."

"Just like that?"

His expression solemn, he echoed, "Just like that."

"I see," she snapped. "And how do I divorce you?"

"You cannot. Divorce is not your decision. You are my wife until I say the marriage is no more."

"Not where I come from." Dominique looked away from him, no longer interested in or amused by the strange customs. Her tone low, accusing, she said, "It doesn't sound to me like the Lakota take marriage very seriously."

"They do," he said softly. "I did."

She jerked her head up to meet his gaze and saw the naked truth in his deep blue eyes. They seemed to be saying that he considered their marriage real, that to him the fact that she was his wife meant much more than a simple act to protect her. Could she believe him this time? Or was this just another in a series of deceptions?

"Jacob," she began, biting her lip between words, "when you brought me to your tipi—the second time, that is, several days ago—you
said
 
something
." Dominique hesitated, searching for the right words, gauging his expression. She found an intensity in his gaze that shook her, knew that he was willing to stand there and let her babble on—flap her tongue, as he would put it— without making any attempt to rush her. With an awkward grin, she finally spit it out. "You said you loved me. Was
that
true, Jacob?"

His smile deepened and grew warmer as he said, "Except for a few necessary lies, I always speak the truth."

"Now what's
that
supposed to mean?" she demanded. "It sounds like another of your lies, and it doesn't make any sense."

"It does to me." He shrugged.

Dominique narrowed one eye and stared at him a long moment before she said, "Maybe it makes some sense to me after all. You don't really, honestly love me. You just—"

"I have put the entire Lakota nation, not to mention my life, in jeopardy because of you," he cut in, his tone cool. "After doing that, if you cannot understand how much this man must love you, then it is you who have managed to deceive me. I had thought you to be very smart in the head."

Tears stung her eyes and a huge lump blocked Dominique's airway. The words swimming through a tiny sob, she said, "Oh, Jacob. What's going to become of us?"

The anguish in her eyes, the look of what he hoped was a hint of her love for him, was too much for Jacob. He took two large steps and crushed her to his chest. "I don't know," he breathed against her golden hair. "I wish I could see the future like our great medicine man, Sitting Bull, but I cannot."

Dominique accepted the comfort of his strong arms and basked in the warmth of his love. Her senses drenched in his essence, in the heady scent of raw power and horseflesh, of sage and all that was nature, she pressed her mouth to his chest and murmured against the silken mat protecting his heart. "Why, Jacob? Oh, why does it have to be like this? Why couldn't we still be at the fort, dancing and having a good time, falling in love the way I've heard it should happen?"

Laughing in spite of the tender moment, Jacob pulled back and tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. "You mean there is a special way it should happen and we have not followed the correct order?"

"Oh, you know what I mean." Her cheeks grew warm, and Dominique knew they must be flushed. She lowered her gaze and shrugged. "I thought falling in love was supposed to be easier than this."

Again he forced her to look into his eyes. "Is
this what
has happened to you,
wi
witko
?
Have you fallen in love with me?"

Dominique puckered up her mouth and glanced around the tipi. She wasn't ready to tell him, couldn't seem to bring herself to say the words. She searched the walls, following the seam up to the skylight, then down the other side, cocking her head from side to side as if she were trying to decide how she felt.

Jacob released her and stepped back. "Perhaps you will know when I return from the warriors' lodge. I must go now. The Father
awaits
."

Dominique gasped. "All right, I'll say it. Jacob, I love you."

With an indulgent grin, Jacob pressed his hand to his chest and said, "I'll believe those words from your mouth when they start from here. Perhaps when I return you will understand what I mean."

"But you can't go. We're not done talking yet."

"I am done for now. And I must go. I am not going to return to the cavalry tonight. I will come back to you. Surely your questions can wait until then."

Her expression coquettish, her dark eyes full of mischief, she said, "Well, I suppose most of them can, but there is one little thing I've been wondering about since I found out I'm your wife."

"Tell me what it is. Then I must go."

"I just wondered. I mean, if I've been your wife for the last four days and during that time you spent not one but two whole nights with me in this tipi, how come I'm still ... you know. Why haven't you ... Shouldn't you have tried to ..." She shrugged and rolled her impish eyes.
"By now?"

Jacob leaned back and roared his laughter. Through his chuckles, he finally said, "Oh, crazy one, you are wondering why I haven't lain with you on our marriage blanket? Is that it?"

Again Dominique shrugged. "I guess that's what I mean."

Jacob dragged her back in his arms and slowly fit his mouth to hers. The kiss was brief and tender, an expression of love. Then he whispered against her full lips, "This blanket business is something we will have to discuss in detail when I return. For now I will answer your question the best way I can. I've left you to your own blanket for the same reason I do all that I do since I met you—I love you." He kissed her again,
then
released her. "Now I must go. You rest. We may have to discuss this important question of yours for a very long time tonight." Then he gave her a roguish grin and stepped through the flap.

Dominique hugged herself and whirled around in a circle. For reasons she wasn't entirely sure of, she was supremely happy and tremendously excited. Tonight something special and wonderful would happen to her. Tonight, if Jacob still desired her, she would finally know what it was to be a woman.

Licking her lips in anticipation, she tried to imagine an act she knew little about but had thought of often over the past months. She pulled off her buckskin dress,
then
unwound her heavy braids. Chuckling as she tried to equate lovemaking with the simple stories she'd heard in boarding school, she fluffed the lace edging around the low neck of her camisole, and smoothed the legs of her drawers. Then Dominique picked up the porcupine tail brush and sat down at her blanket.

As she thoughtfully dragged the brush through her long wavy hair, a sudden idea froze the movement. What about Jacob? What would he expect of her,
from
her? She thought back to her conversation with Spotted Feather and shuddered. Would she be able to please him the way a Lakota woman could? Or had she fought the squaw for a prize she didn't deserve, and for a man she couldn't possibly please?

Dominique stretched out on the buffalo rug and pulled the thin blanket up over her shoulders. She thought of Michigan, of her beautiful mother and her premature death, and softly sighed. She had never missed her quiet wisdom more. In the Lakota village, there was no one to help her with this dilemma, no woman in this camp who would tell her what to do for a man like Jacob.

With another, heavier sigh, Dominique rolled over on her back. How could this be? How could she suddenly be feeling so inept? A non-swimmer, she'd somehow managed to pull
herself
from the river and avoid drowning. A city girl, unused to animals and the wild, she'd found a way to save herself from the jaws of a grizzly.

Would the so-called natural act of mating be her undoing?

 
Chapter Seventeen