Savage Betrayal (21 page)

They paddled north for what seemed an interminable length of time. She noticed he kept the canoe a safe distance from the white churning breakers pounding the long gray strip of sand that marked the coastline.

Seeing the direction of her gaze, Fighting Wolf commented easily, “That’s a continuation of the long sandy beach where you went clam-digging.”

She remembered that long sandy beach very well—and Birdwhistle’s attack. She wondered if Fighting Wolf had deliberately brought up the sore subject, so she answered coolly, “I should warn you: it’s dangerous to take me clam-digging. Ask Birdwhistle.”

Fighting Wolf laughed. “Aah, but who will protect you this time?” he asked in a low voice.

When she didn’t answer, he added casually, “Well, we’re almost at the end of our voyage. Only a short distance to go.”

“Where exactly are we going?” she inquired, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“To a small private beach,” he answered. She could hear the suggestive tone in his voice, but she kept her back stiff and unyielding. “A private beach that I discovered when I was young.” Enthusiastically, he continued, “It has soft sand, and is sheltered from the wind. There’s even a small, freshwater creek flowing at one end. It’s a beautiful spot. You’ll love it,” he drawled and she wondered what he truly meant. That she would love the beach or love what he was going to do to her, for by now she had very strong suspicions as to his intentions, once they arrived at the beach.

Her heart began to beat faster and her palms, already damp from paddling, were sweating profusely. She knew the reaction wasn’t all fear, but anticipation as well. She decided to brazen it out. “Now, why,” she began, “would you care whether I like the beach or not? I hadn’t been aware that you particularly cared about my likes and dislikes!”

Her impudence delighted him. “Aah, but I do care, Sarita,” he answered in a soft voice. “Very much.” The way his voice caressed her name sent a warning thrill up her spine.

She didn’t quite know what to answer and continued to paddle stoically, ignoring him, but the whole time her mind was racing.

Many tall spruce trees lined the beach behind the sand. She wondered if, once they were ashore, she could run fast enough to get away from him and hide in the woods. The tangle of salal bushes and shrubs below the spruce trees would make it difficult for him to follow and find her.

She decided that she must make the attempt. What she would do after he gave up looking for her and paddled away from the beach, she gave no thought to.

She only knew she did not want to be alone with a man like Fighting Wolf. A man who roused so many different feelings in her. On the one hand, she was desperately afraid of him and what he might do to her physically. On the other, she was strongly attracted to him, more so than any other man she had ever known. She could feel his magnetism even when sitting with her back to him. Damn! Why did the man always have such an effect on her?

She was brought out of her reverie by Fighting Wolf’s next comment. “See the island just off that point in the distance?” he asked, his canoe paddle indicating the long promontory of land.

Shading her eyes with her cupped hand, Sarita stared off into the distance. A long spit of gray sandy beach led out to a small rocky island, topped with trees. She nodded.

“That’s our destination.”

They paddled in silence for another while, until they neared the point of land. Large breakers rolled in; almost covering the gray spit of beach they were approaching. Small waves pounded dangerously at the rocky island, crashing against the rocks, but Fighting Wolf steered away from the island. Maneuvering carefully, he guided the small craft towards the spit, until one large wave pushed them in very close to shore. Looking down through the clear, rippling, shallow water Sarita could see pretty shells lying on the sand.

Fighting Wolf stepped out of the canoe, then dragged it easily into shore. Sarita felt, then heard, the canoe grate against the hard sand. She hopped out, the cool, clear water refreshing as it swirled around her calves. Fighting Wolf lifted the small craft and carried it farther up the beach, nearer to the tree line. There the waves and incoming tide could not reach the boat and take it out to sea.

While he was occupied, Sarita surveyed the beach. It truly was a lovely place. A wide expanse of fine gray sand stretched endlessly in the direction from which they had come. The dark gray sand near the water, the lighter gray sand of the upper beach, the brilliant green trees and the bright blue sky conspired to make the most beautiful scene imaginable.

She gazed in the other direction. The island and spit of beach where she stood formed a small cove matched with another island and spit of land. Twins, she thought.

Between the two islands the long, gray curve of beach gleamed in the hot sun. She could see nothing beyond the second island, but she wondered if sandy beach extended endlessly from there, too.

Taking the basket from the bottom of the craft, Fighting Wolf turned to Sarita. After her first survey of the beach, she had been hastily judging the distance from the shore where she stood to the blue-gray spruce trees lining the upper beach. She chewed nervously on her full lower lip as she debated making her escape now. Seeing him retrieve the basket, she turned to watch him, willing her eyes to stay away from the beckoning tree line. She could not let him guess her plan.

Smiling at her, Fighting Wolf handed her the basket, obviously expecting her to carry it. Sarita hoisted it to her back, the tumpline around her forehead. She groaned inwardly as she thought of her escape and shedding this load she did not want. Ostensibly following docilely behind him, she waited in an agony of impatience for the opportunity to make her break for freedom.

Fighting Wolf walked silently towards the second small island, heading for a small stream she had not noticed earlier. The creek, some distance from the canoe, cut into the soft sand and bubbled its way along. Walking quickly, they reached the stream. He took the basket from her and placed it on the warm sand.

She stretched her cramped muscles luxuriously. The hot sun felt good on her upturned face, and the warm sand squeezing between her toes felt even better. She inhaled the tangy sea air, content for the moment.

Fighting Wolf watched her, a small smile playing about his mouth. Turning away, he surprised her by walking towards the sea once again. She watched as he waded into the cool water, not once looking back at her. He obviously did not expect any trouble from her, she thought, irritated. Seeing that he was wading farther out into the shallow water, she suddenly realized this was her chance to escape. Spying the canoe, she quickly changed her plans. She would run for the light craft, push it out to sea and paddle away, leaving Fighting Wolf stranded. Yes, that was a better plan! Besides, if it appeared he was going to come after her and catch her before she reached the canoe, she could still run for the tree line.

With the last glance at his departing figure, now thigh-high in the water, she turned and ran as fast as she could. The canoe lay a good distance away. Dry sand squeaked underfoot as she ran for her very life. Afraid to look back, she kept running. Suddenly she heard a shout. She ran even faster. Breathing hard, chest aching, yet still she ran. Her hair had come loose and the silky dark mane flapped freely behind as she sped down the beach.

She ventured a quick peek over her shoulder. Fighting Wolf was sprinting after her. Fear lent wings to her feet. Her feet flew over the solid wet sand and her breath came in quick gasps as she raced desperately for the canoe. Another peek over her shoulder revealed Fighting Wolf gaining on her. He was too close. She’d never make it!

Abandoning all thought of the canoe, she swerved for the tree line. She could hear him panting now, mere steps behind her. With one last burst of speed she lengthened her stride, alarm giving her added strength. The heavy thud of his feet pounded the sand; he was almost upon her!

Suddenly, hard arms wrapped around her knees and a vigorous tackle brought her careening to the sand. She kicked and struggled against Fighting Wolf, trying futilely to regain her feet, but his arms were clamped tightly around her knees, his face buried in her hip.

She heard a low chuckle and struggled with renewed fury. He thought it was funny! She was running and fighting for her life, and Fighting Wolf thought it was funny! Screaming her anger and lashing out with her fists, she managed to land a blow on his muscular back. Hearing him grunt, she lashed out again, but he caught her wrist in one strong hand. Inching himself up, Fighting Wolf threw one leg over her lower body, using his weight to hold her down while he freed his grip from her legs. Grabbing her other hand, he quickly pulled both arms over her head and held her wrists in a brutal grip.

The nearness of his body was intoxicating. Well, she would fight him and her own body too, if she had to! Breasts heaving, held immobile, Sarita hissed into his face, her golden eyes shooting sparks. “Let me go!”

She was beginning to realize that her struggles were getting her nowhere. He was much too strong—and she was too tired. Finally she lay still, panting, angry and watching his every move.

He leaned over her, grinning, until she stopped her fruitless struggles and was once more breathing normally. Then he bent and softly touched his lips to hers. The gentle touch sent Sarita into new paroxysms of struggle. Determined to get free, she bit at him, growling her fury. His free hand grasped her hair, a great handful, close to her head. Holding her head still, he ground his lips into hers, this time savagely. A groan escaped her.

Aroused now, he shifted his weight over her. He continued his relentless kisses, his mouth hot on hers. She kept her teeth clenched, a barrier to the sweetness within.

Pushing at her teeth with his tongue did Fighting Wolf no good. She continued to clench tight. Changing tactics, his mouth burned its way down the side of her throat, coming to rest in the hollow of her shoulder. She was starting to melt. Sensing her vulnerability, he renewed his attack on her mouth. Pulling her head back even farther, her mouth fell open and he forced his way in, a prelude to further invasion. Moving through her mouth, he took all the sweetness he could, savoring the taste of her.

Sarita felt his hard tongue probing her mouth. She tried to stop him, but he would not be denied. The sensations he was arousing in her body were so wondrous! For a moment, she went limp, caught up in his possession of her mouth and body.

Feeling her relax against him, Fighting Wolf reached for one of the daggers at his waist. Holding it close to her face, he watched as fear lit those golden eyes. Laughing harshly, he leaned back and slit her robe from neck to knee, tossing the knife to one side. She lay under him, nude, staring up at him hopelessly, her beautiful body at last exposed to his hot, relentless gaze.

He took in her body at a glance, intense desire coursing through him. The firm, full breasts intoxicated him and he set his hungry mouth over first one brown peak, then the other, sucking avidly. She tried to free her hands, intent on pushing him away. Laughing low in his throat, he loosened his grip just a little.

Sarita redoubled her struggles, only to find him tighten his grip again. He was merely playing with her!

The attack of his mouth on her breasts jolted her out of her sensuous lethargy. Warm tingling feelings shivered through her as his mouth devoured hers. Desperately afraid now of the sensations he was arousing in her, she fought on.

Lifting his head, he quickly undid his own robe and slid it off his body, all the while gazing at her through heavy-lidded eyes. His warm, nude body pressing against hers was unlike anything Sarita had ever known. She could feel the hard muscles of his torso and legs. She looked down at his swollen manhood, pressing against her stomach. Fear thrilled through her at the sight of it, erect and pointing at her. He followed her gaze and grinned upon seeing her reaction. He slanted his lips across hers again, but this time she was too late to stop his entry into her mouth. Swirling his tongue around hers, he knew she was ripe for the taking.

With his free hand, Fighting Wolf began to caress her smooth body, running his hand down the length of her torso. He cupped her rounded buttocks and pulled her closer to him. She fit so well against his length. He gently stroked her thighs, now the outside, then the inside, his fingers feathering lightly.

Sarita had vainly tried to free herself, but once Fighting Wolf had started his lovemaking, she felt herself turning to water. The sensations running up and down her body as his hands touched her thighs and then closer, ever closer to the center of her being, weakened her struggles severely. She gave herself up to the wonderful intoxicating arousal that swept over her. The smell of him, manly, slightly salty, stirred her senses powerfully. The feel of him, the hard muscles pressing against her body, the strong grip of his hand on her wrists, all overwhelmed her, leaving her breathless and compliant. When she felt his hand gently caressing her between her thighs, the lethargy coming over her almost sent her into a swoon. Her legs had a will of their own as they parted, trembling, to his intruding fingers.

Fighting Wolf could wait no longer. He lowered himself onto her. He sank into her velvety depths, stopped momentarily by the delicate barrier of her maidenhood. Too aroused to be surprised, he realized fleetingly, possessively, that he was the first man to make love to her.

Pausing slightly until he felt her relax, he plunged in deeply, holding her close. He lay motionless once again. Her low cry against his lips was stifled as he concentrated on gently kissing her over and over again.

Sarita stiffened, feeling something hard follow where his hand had been only a heartbeat before. She felt him plunge strongly into her and she struggled briefly against him as she felt the sharp pain, but his hot kisses on her now swollen lips distracted her. His hands were everywhere, soothing, calming her.

Finally, Fighting Wolf began to move slowly, slowly, building faster and faster. It felt so good, he couldn’t stop. He knew he could never be satisfied with one time with this woman. He wanted more, always more…”Sarita!” He breathed her name over and over.