Lucky 7 Bad Boys Contemporary Romance Boxed Set (71 page)

She'd just found an empty space up front when the singers started the drumbeat. The warrior walked into the circle, silver bells jangling from his ankles and wooden hoops clacking as he carried them in his hands. His bearing was straight and dignified; every movement conveyed pride in what he was doing. Rini caught her breath at the pure, male virility of the man.

The breeze lifted the ends of his midnight hair, which skimmed over the lustrous bronze of his broad shoulders. When he turned to walk to the other side of the ring, her gaze feasted on the undulating muscles in his back and biceps—her gaze, and that of every other female in the audience. Until, that is, she found more interesting territory below his tapered waist.

Leather cording held up his breechclout, along with an elaborately embroidered and fringed bustle that hung from his waist to the back of his knees. But unlike most of the other male dancers, he did not wear modern gym pants or sweats under them. The tantalizing bit of bare hip showing between the edges of the breechclout and the bustle was enough to make her mouth go completely dry.

Lord above.
She fanned herself with her hand and watched, mesmerized, as his hoops started to fly.

It was amazing the things he could do with those hoops. And with his body. Graceful and athletic, his moves took her breath away. When the dance was over, all she could do was murmur, "Wow."

"Not bad for an old man!" the master of ceremonies quipped over the loudspeaker. "There'll be an encore at four o'clock this afternoon, folks."

Drums started again. Suddenly her warrior was swept up in a wave of backslapping friends and fellow dancers, and returned to the ring for an intertribal dance. She craned her neck to see him, but he was hidden from view in the throng.

She pushed out a sigh. Just as well. There were a hundred booths to explore, weaving to watch, kettle corn to eat, and music to listen to. She didn't have time to stand here and gawk at some man just because he had called her beautiful.

Which was why she just didn't understand how she came to be in exactly the same spot at the dance circle at four o'clock, nervously fidgeting with the ends her ribbon belt.

Sure, she had spotted him several times during the course of the afternoon as she’d immersed herself in the rows of booths with their fascinating wares, and he'd always smiled at her. A luscious, inviting kind of smile that made her dizzy just looking at it. The same kind of smile he was giving her now as he entered the ring and pinned her with his dark, seeking eyes. Her pulse zinged in response, echoed by the resounding drumbeats that kicked up from the center of the circle.

The warrior lifted his hoops and started to dance. His moccasined feet bounced off the dusty ground in a quick heartbeat rhythm as he swooped and twirled the wooden hoops in intricate patterns around his body, increasing the number of hoops and moving them in ever more complicated arrangements. The crowd applauded at each additional hoop he worked into the design, and cheered as the drums beat ever faster.

He slowly traversed the circle, adding hoops as he went, until he danced right in front of her. His skin glistened with sweat, the bells tied above his calves jingled madly as the tempo surged to a fevered pitch. Muscles bulging, his face etched in concentration, he snapped up the final nine-hoop figure, and the crowd went wild. Rini stood transfixed as he executed one last deep-knee spin and collapsed the hoops in a quick motion to a single orderly bunch in his hand. He lifted the hoops high over his head, and with the last pounding beat of the drums he swooped down on her and slipped them over her head and shoulders, capturing her in a final, unexpected move.

The audience roared and clapped, and the public address system blared, but all Rini could hear was his low declaration, barely audible above the din as he reeled her in. "I've got you now, Fire Eyes."

Her body thrummed, tightening in places she'd nearly forgotten she had.
This is crazy,
she thought as her blood got lazier and lazier. How could a man she just met do this to her?

He gave her a slow smile and raised the hoops, saluting the audience, waving the wooden rings in the air.

Again he was swept away by the crowd of dancers, although this time she was treated to several curious glances from his friends.

Face blazing, she turned and hurried from the dance ring.

Despite her intense reaction to the man—or, if she were really honest, because of it—Rini was grateful for the reprieve. She was in an absurdly reckless mood, and heaven knew what she might get herself into if she weren't careful. Just look at what had happened the last time she'd let herself be charmed by a totally inappropriate man.

Brushing a hand decisively down the skirt of her dress, she lost herself in the mass of tourists heading for the conglomeration of tables and benches where the barbecue dinner was being served. After picking at her food, she remembered a promise she'd given her nephew to help with a boy scout badge project, and made her way to a secluded pasture behind the last row of booths, looking for tepees.

The green meadow was filled with exotic grasses and wildflowers, fragrant and glowing in the pink-and-yellow rays of the setting sun. Rippling gently in the warm breeze stood a dozen or so tepees in varying sizes, made with everything from aluminum poles and canvas to lodgepole saplings and deer hide. It was a gorgeous sight, and for a moment she just stood, taking it all in.

Pulling out her cell phone, she shot several photos from various angles. Then, humming in delight, she exchanged the phone for a small sketch pad from her shoulder bag. She loved to draw and paint, and it had been far too long since she’d taken the time to indulge her artistic side. She threaded her way slowly among the tepees, sketching her impressions, stopping to admire the unique designs painted on the outside of each one.

There was one in particular she liked, and she spent a long time capturing it in a detailed drawing, thinking of her nephew’s scout project. It was lovely, in natural-colored canvas that glowed red in the crimson sunset, with a buckskin door and accents. When she was finished drawing the outside, she wondered what the inside might look like. She fingered the flap, then let it fall. She didn't feel right lifting it without permission.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps, and the accompanying loud jangle of bells stopped right behind her. She whirled, and looked up in surprise.

The warrior!

She jumped back and guiltily hugged her pad of paper. "I'm sorry. I was just drawing your tepee. I hope you don't mind."

He was watching her carefully, taking in her pad and thick charcoal pencil.

"Lodge," he said.

She blinked. "What? Oh, right. Lodge." One of the ladies at a booth had told her Native Americans preferred that term to tepee, but somehow “lodge” always made her think of moose and men in funny hats. She cleared her throat. "Well, I didn't mean to intrude. I'll be going—

"No," he said, and took a step closer. "Why don’t you come in?"

Chapter Two

"No, really, I…" Rini retreated, emotions warring.

"Don't you want to draw the inside?" he casually asked, shifting the flap to one side.

"I, um…"
Crazy.
"Okay. That would be great."

She felt just a little uneasy when he lifted the flap fully and she stepped inside.
What was she thinking?
The tepee was empty except for a folding lawn chair, a rolled-up Indian rug, and a small radio. Letting the buckskin flap fall behind them, the warrior walked to the rear of the tepee, tossing the gym bag he was carrying onto the floor.

He gave her a reassuring smile, gesturing to her pad. "Go ahead. Draw. Just pretend I'm not here."

Yeah, right.

There was barely enough light filtering in through the smoke hole at the apex of the ceiling to allow her to see. Nevertheless, she put pencil to the paper...and tried desperately to remember what she was doing there in a dimly lit tepee with a complete stranger.

A sexy stranger who was making her body yearn to feel things she'd never felt before.

Distraction. She needed a distraction.

"I didn't think the Luiseño tribe used tepees," she said as she drew the details of the canvas floor where it met the walls.

He chuckled. "Not historically. But a field full of modern multicolored nylon camping tents and Airstream trailers wouldn't exactly impress the tourists."

She smiled. "No, I s'pose not."

She glanced up, catching him standing with his arms folded over his broad chest, studying her. Her face heated at his intense scrutiny.
Draw.
She had to remember to draw. Dragging her gaze away, she turned to a fresh page and started outlining the door opening.

While she worked, the warrior removed his headdress and placed it carefully on the lawn chair, followed by his embroidered bustle. Her fingers itched to draw him instead, but she forced her attention back to the tepee and started filling in the details of the bone fasteners used to secure the door. Behind her she heard him untie the bells around his legs, unzip his bag and toss them in. A click sounded, and the radio started playing soft country music. There was a loud snap as he shook out his rug, and a quiet rustle as it drifted to the floor. Making his bed?

Ho-boy
.

She squeezed her eyes shut. She had to stop thinking like this.

Suddenly, she felt warm breath in her hair. She started, her eyes flying open. He stood right behind her.

"May I?" His fingers brushed hers as he reached around and eased the pad from her hand, sending a shower of awareness over her.

She nodded, not daring to move, fearing she would accidentally touch him again.

She couldn't understand this outrageous attraction she was feeling. The sudden heat flowing through her body must be an overreaction to being out of David's chilly embraces. The delicious thrill of being so close to this warrior was surely a primal response to the knowledge that the only barriers between them were those she herself placed there. It was a heady feeling.

He came around to stand next to her, flipping through her drawings. "These are very good. But why my lodge?"

She met his searching look. "It's so pretty. And I promised Kenny lots of details."

A thundercloud seemed to pass through the warrior's black eyes. He lifted a brow. "Kenny?"

She glanced down at her pencil. "My nine-year-old nephew." When the corner of his mouth twitched, she added, "Boy Scout project."

He nodded, and turned to the page she'd been working on. After a moment he pointed. "You've got these fasteners wrong."

She frowned and took the pad from him. "Let me see." She compared the drawing to the door and saw he was right. She pushed a damp lock off her forehead. Mercy, it was getting awfully warm in here.

He strolled to the door, pulled the flaps together and began lacing two long leather strips around the bone fasteners that were sewn along the edges. He shot her a sultry glance. "The view might be better when the door's properly closed."

Her heart skipped a beat.

In a few seconds it was laced up as tight as a sneaker before a marathon. "See how it works? Now it's impossible to get in from the outside."

He sat on his haunches and slowly looped the ends of the ties through two holes in the doorsill, and pulled them tight. He regarded her from behind his painted mask. "Anything else you'd like a closer look at?"

"I, uh…"
Oh, lord.
Her pulse whipped into double-time. So tempting...

His brow lifted.

"I, um…" Her gaze dipped involuntarily from his sensual lips to his throat, and slid along the narrow band of naked, bronze flesh running the entire side of his body down to his moccasins. Trying in vain to ignore the thundering of her heart, she bit her lip.

In a fluid movement he rose to his feet.

She was backing herself into a corner, and she knew it. But for the life of her, she suddenly couldn't think of a single reason why she should deflect what was happening between them. She was still raw from David's rejection of her as a woman. It felt good to flirt with this man, to reconfirm that she was pretty and desirable. And if it went a little further than flirting, well, she was a big girl. She knew how to say no if she had to.

It was her choice.

He moved behind her and, circling his arms around her body, grasped the pad of paper in one hand and with the other guided the pencil in her shaking fingers to correct her mistake. "You just tell me what you'd like a closer look at, and I'll see what I can do."

Her head spun and her bones turned to liquid. "I've"—she cleared her throat again—"I've never done anything like this before," she murmured, half believing he was still talking about drawing tepees. Her sleeve slipped off her shoulder and she reached to pull it up. "I think I—

"Don't think, Fire Eyes." He caught her hand and brought it down to her side, leaving the sleeve where it was. "Just feel. If it stops feeling good, tell me no."

She swallowed, forgetting all about tepees, lodges, and everything else except the provocative man who was making her come dangerously unglued. She could feel the erotic hardness of his body. His quill chest plate pressed against her spine, his solid thighs caressed her bottom. His growing arousal nestled provocatively at the small of her back. She closed her eyes. It felt good.