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Authors: Phoebe Conn

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BOOK: Swept Away
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“Is he handsome?” Dana inquired with playful curiosity. “Or merely possessed of such remarkable stamina he can satisfy all your girls?”

When Berit blushed deeply at the indelicacy of the question, her mother responded for her. “He’s a surly brute, but I suppose some might find him handsome. As for his ability to satisfy a woman, that’s part of the problem. He’ll have nothing to do with any of them, but his disinterest only serves to make the girls all the more bold.”

“How can that be true?” Freya leaned forward to look directly at her younger sister. The day was warm, and the four women were seated beneath a massive oak whose leafy branches shielded their lovely fair complexions from the brightness of the sun’s rays. “With so many eager women, how can you be certain he wants none of them?”

“I have ears as well as eyes, Freya.” Annoyed that her sister would question her judgment, Grena paused only long enough to adjust the half-dozen heavy gold bracelets encircling her right wrist before she resumed her attempt at gaining sympathy. “None of the girls is happy. Brendan seems to hold all of them, as well as our family, in contempt. I’d sell him tomorrow, but Jørn said he was an extraordinary horseman, and all the men who would be willing to pay the price I would have to ask are away, just as our men are.”

While she was as greatly amused by the amorous antics of Grena’s servants as Dana, Freya knew her sister had come to her expecting help with her problems rather than merely unbridled laughter. Since the thrall couldn’t be sold, there appeared to be only one other option. A gracious woman, Freya was not reluctant to offer it, but she thoughtfully consulted her daughter first.

“Dana, can you imagine any of our servants chasing this poor man so shamelessly?”

Instantly comprehending the import of her mother’s question, as well as her reason for asking it, Dana’s smile vanished. Freya had been ill with a recurrent fever the past winter, and since she had yet to fully regain her strength and vitality, she relied heavily upon her eldest daughter to manage the duties she had formerly handled with ease. While Dana was happy to spare her mother every bit of work she could, she didn’t want to see her take on the responsibility for an obnoxious slave just because Grena was unable to control her household properly. Pampered and spoiled, first by her parents and then by a generous older husband, her aunt solved all her problems simply by thrusting them onto others. Dana would not insult her aunt by saying so to her face, however, so she offered an objection she knew would be readily understood.

“Father hasn’t kept thralls in years. Don’t you think he would be very displeased if we began taking in Aunt Grena’s?” she asked pointedly.

Freya’s delicately arched brows rose slightly at the mention of angering Haakon since she knew the possibility was an extremely good one. Despite that threat, she could not turn her back on the sister she held so dear. “You know your father expects us to make our own decisions when he’s away. Just let me worry about his reaction when he comes home in the fall. For the time being, we need only concern ourselves with Grena’s dilemma.”

Not pleased to have what she knew was sound advice cast aside so casually, Dana turned away to watch her younger brother and sister, who were playing nearby with Grena’s twelve-year-old twins, Olaf and Hrolf. The children’s happy laughter rang out over the blossom-filled meadow as they chased the lambs through the tall grass that extended clear down to the sandy shoreline.

The island of Fyn was not only beautiful, but it was also blessed with fertile soil and a mild climate. Though she had never traveled more than a few miles from her family’s farm, Dana knew it had to occupy one of the most perfect spots on earth. She took a great deal of pride in her home, as did her mother. Yet, while her mother’s health was still delicate, Dana didn’t want a troublesome thrall any more than Grena did. Why couldn’t her aunt see that she was thoughtlessly taking advantage of her sister’s love? Was she simply as selfish as Jørn?

When she reluctantly forced her attention back to the conversation at hand, she was embarrassed to find Grena waiting impatiently for her response to a question she had not heard. “I’m sorry, did you ask me something?”

Grena dared not criticize her niece for being inattentive when she needed her help so urgently, but her tone was cool and her diction crisp as she repeated her request. “Will you come for Brendan tomorrow? When not pestered by overeager females, he has shown himself to be a good worker, and I’m sure he won’t cause you any trouble. Then when Jørn comes home, he can decide what to do with the man. After all, Brendan is his property, so the problem is rightfully his.”

Knowing that was merely another convenient excuse for Grena to avoid taking responsibility for what went on under her own roof, Dana had to force down a bitter response before giving a polite one. “If the matter is decided, then yes, I’ll come for the man in the morning.”

 

Written in the stars…

 

Soaring Eagle’s Embrace

© 2012 Karen Kay

 

The Legendary Warriors, Book 4

Kali Wallace has no room in her busy life for marriage. Instead, she is following her father into a photography career, striving to capture the beauty of the Wild West and its vanishing Indian cultures before they both disappear forever.

Montana’s Blackfeet country is everything she could have dreamed—and more. At night a handsome man gently invades her sleep. Their nightly encounters become more and more real until one bright morning, she is startled to find everything has changed.

Lawyer by profession, Blackfeet by blood, Clay Soaring Eagle is determined to do everything in his power—legally and spiritually—to save his people’s way of life. He trusts no one of the white race, and hopes that once Kali’s task is done, she will leave and take temptation with her.

The spirits have their own plan. As their passion burns with a brightness that rivals the stars, Clay and Kali are aware that it can never last…unless they find a way to make their two worlds come together as one.

Warning: Contains soul-stirring dreams, passionate unions, and a mountain-top quest that will leave you hungry to see these two lovers get their happily ever after.

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Soaring Eagle’s Embrace:

 
“I thought you wished to take pictures of my people.”

“I do.”

“And if you take these pictures, what will you do with them?”

Kali felt herself relax. On this subject, she was on familiar ground. She said, “My father and I will make them into a book, which will be sold back East.”

“Ah,” he said. “Then this is how you and your father make your living in the white man’s world?”

“Yes.”

“Then it is your wish to make money off us Indians.”

Kali shrugged. “Yes,” she said. “In a way. But in a way, not.”

“And how will we Indians profit by your pictures?”

“By bringing more understanding of you and your people’s plight to the world. After all, if the native people of America were better understood, you would be able to enlist more aid to your cause.”

He raised an eyebrow, his glance at her hard-hitting. “You are a wise woman,” he said, “yet I don’t think you are wise enough. You tell me that you wish to take our pictures, tell our stories, relate our adventures, yet you do not offer the Indian anything in compensation, though these adventures are rightfully ours.”

“I hadn’t thought about it. It’s not something that has ever been brought up to us before.”

“Always,” he said, “the white man has explanations.”

Kali shook her head and pulled a face. “That’s too bad, really.”

“Too bad?”

“You are a very prejudiced man.”

“I am a realistic man.”

“All right, then. I suppose you are too realistic to take a dare, then, as well?”

“A dare?”

“Yes. I must admit that I have come into this project blind. I should have learned more about the situation and what was confronting the people I wished to contact—before I arrived. However, I didn’t. Be that as it may, I am prepared to parlay with you.”

“Parlay? In what way?”

“Tonight I was besieged with bigotry not only from you but from the agent’s wife, Mrs. Black. It leads me to believe that there is something going on here that needs investigation. Therefore, I am prepared to make a bargain with you.”

“Humph.”

“Here it is. I will acquaint you with what I do so that you can more fully understand why I am here. You, for your part, will show me what is going on between you and the ranchers who share this land with you. Then we will examine the facts and make our own judgments. If I am right, and my pictures do not do harm, you will do all you can to help introduce me to your chiefs and your people, perhaps talk them around to meeting me and letting me take their pictures. If, on the other hand, you convince me that I am hurting people by doing this, I will leave.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand.

“You will, for your part, show me what is happening on your reservation. If you are right, and the white ranchers are trying to push you out, I will do all I can to help you fight this. If, however, you are wrong and the ranchers have just cause to do as they are, you will do all you can to convince your people to help them.”

“I will never help the white ranchers. And I will not put myself into a position where I might ever have to do so. No, I don’t think I will bet with you.”

“I see,” she said, biting down on her lip. “You’re afraid.”

He frowned at her. “Only at the prospect of being hoodwinked by a small redheaded woman.” He softened the words with a grin. Then, after a moment, “Who would decide if the white ranchers have ‘just cause’?”

“Why, both you and I, of course.”

“And you will listen to me?”

“I will listen to you.”

“And if we don’t agree?”

“We will examine only the facts and keep examining them until we do agree,” she said. “In truth, I would be willing to bet that you have simply misunderstood the actions of those who live around you. If it’s not a case of simple misunderstanding, then—”

“And if I am right, if you discover that I speak the truth? What then?”

“Then you would win the bet, I would help you and I would have to pay you whatever we decide are the stakes.”

He leaned in toward her. “And what are the stakes?”

“Well, for my part, if I win, I would like you to help me get as many pictures as I can. If you win, hadn’t we already decided that my father and I would leave?”

He pursed his lips, nodding. “It sounds good, but I’m not sure I like it.”

“What about it don’t you like?”

“It is not personal enough.”

“Personal?”

“It is not a small thing that you ask of me if you should win the bet. I think you should wager with something you do not wish to part with.”
Aa
.

“I am.” She crossed her arms. “If you win, I would have to leave.”

“Yes, but is that enough? At least in comparison to what you ask of me.”

“I see,” she said, then a little sarcastically, “I suppose you have something in mind?”

He appeared to mull this over, although Kali was certain he had something firmly fixed in his thoughts. Several moments passed. At last, however, he spoke up, saying, “If you win, I will do as you say and try to persuade the others to agree to your photos and to understand the whites around us. But if I win…”

Kali waited. “Yes?”

“If I win, you will do as I say…even though the request might be a little intimate.”

Kali’s stomach dropped; she raised her chin. “Exactly how intimate?”

He grinned. “It is told by our elders that, in the past, young men were willing to use their wives as the stakes in a wager. The woman had no say in it, even if she loved her husband. She went to the winner willingly, and in marriage.”

Kali stared at this man who stood before her so handsome and proud, who probably had half the female members of his village running after him. And he was asking her to…what? Aloud, she said, “Are you telling me that if you win you might ask me to marry you?”

“Or something like that.”

“How much like that?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Perhaps the physical side of it.”

Kali spun away from him, although it did her little good. She could feel the heat of his glance on her back. She said, “If you are asking what I think you are, it is immoral. And I’m certain that your society isn’t that much different than mine when it comes to such things.”

He didn’t speak for some time, and he must have come up close to her, for when he next spoke, she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. He said, “Yet it is certainly a high enough stake. And you are an attractive woman.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

These were thrilling words, wonderful words, even if she didn’t believe them, and she clenched her fists to keep herself from reacting to him. She said, “I think you are being impertinent.”

She could feel him shrug. “It would, at least, make the wager interesting.”

BOOK: Swept Away
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