Tender Taming (21 page)

And she was aware of Eagle. He did not touch her, yet he did. It seemed as if the blue steel of his eyes bore through her, searching out her soul, commanding her heart. But she didn’t dare move or speak; his eyes were as hard and relentless as his ramrod stance, and fathomless. Was he telling her that they were even, that the score had been settled?

Or was he really staking a claim to her?

He stepped back and turned once more to Gerry. “I hope,” he said with a slight edge of contempt, “that I shall never need to depend on a legality or a piece of paper to hold what is mine. Should that ever be the case, I doubt if there would really be anything to keep.” He nodded grimly to Gerry, pivoted and started back up the path.

Immobilized, Whitney watched him until his broad shoulders disappeared into the brush. Then her feet took flight, and completely forgetting Gerry, she raced after him, to catch him breathlessly as he was hopping into his own jeep, which was parked behind hers.

“Eagle!” She shouted his name, but as he settled into the driver’s seat and acknowledged her, her throat constricted and her words refused to come. There wasn’t a hint of softening in the blue chill of his eyes, nor did he encourage her to come to him in any way. Halting a few steps from the jeep, she stared at him blankly, at a loss.

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” she said inanely.

Did she imagine it? Or did a trace of disappointment filter through the glacial blue steel?

“Not at all,” he said wryly. “Is that it?”

“I—I—” she floundered.

Muttering an impatient oath, Eagle sprang from the jeep. Stalking her roughly, he gripped her shoulders with tense fingers that bit into her flesh. She winced, but he didn’t care. He had come to claim her, simply to demand her by right. And if he stayed much longer, he would.

But the scene he had come upon had changed his mind. At first he had wanted to act like any normal jealous male and rip Whitney away from the man who threatened her, shove her protectively behind his back and simply proceed to settle the matter with his fists.

But something had held him back. It might have even been pity. Gerry Latham was not really his rival. It was clear that he no longer had any hold on Whitney. Despite his highhanded tactics, it was pathetically obvious that he still loved his ex-wife.

Without thinking, or rather because he had been thinking, Eagle gave Whitney a rough shake. And where she was tongue-tied, he found words he never meant to say tumbling curtly from his mouth.

“What is he doing here? Why have you brought him out here to begin with?”

Whitney slowly leaned her head back so that her hair fell behind her in a long, dark wave and her emerald eyes met his. They had been strangely blank; now they turned tremulous, and then defiant, and Eagle wished fervently that he had handled the whole matter differently.

He had meant what he said to Gerry—Whitney was his, but only because the tie would be of her own choosing.

And that was the way he wanted it.

“Do I owe you an explanation?” Whitney demanded.

“Yes,” Eagle said, and softly added, “if you feel that you do.”

Before she could answer him, Eagle pulled her to him and his lips descended over hers. They came down hard, and the punishing grip on her shoulders shifted to the small of her back, pressing her to him.

Her form was pliant. It molded to his, which was what he wanted. He wanted her to feel his strength and heat, the way his hands could take her delicate form, the way his body could press to her with natural need.

Then, as she clung to him with the response he had barely dared hope for, had desired with all his heart, his kiss took on a subtle change, teasing softly, his tongue parrying lightly where it had plundered.

He was gambling.

She was arched to him, straining against him; the fullness of her soft breasts crushed into his chest, begging to be held and caressed.

Eagle allowed his hands to move enticingly along her back. His fingers roamed just beneath the material of her shirt, inch by inch up her ribs …

And then he pulled away.

Whitney was stunned. She blinked, and then a flood of humiliation washed through her at the ease with which he could draw complete capitulation from her and then coolly set her aside. What was it the man really wanted? Shakily she opened her mouth to say something—anything—as long as it was suitably scathing.

“I—” was as far as she got

“You,” Eagle interrupted, and as his crystal gaze held her he was a cross between that man who had boldly declared himself to Gerry in no uncertain terms with assured control and the one who had leaped from the jeep to claim her, “have some thinking to do. And”—he lifted a brow and tilted his head toward the path where they could now hear Gerry stumbling through the brush—“a little unfinished business to attend to.” Running a finger lightly from the tip of a high cheekbone to her chin, he added huskily, “You have to decide just where your ties are, Whitney. I want you, but though I don’t wish to subjugate you, I promise that being mine, I will be the dominating force in your life. As you will be—and have been—in my own.” His lips curled ruefully at the corners. “I’m learning that I can be very dominating, demanding and possessive where you’re concerned. But you hold the cards, my love. The final play is yours. I’ve told you what is, what will be. The choice is yours.” He tapped the tip of her nose lightly. “If you want me, Whitney, come to me.”

The trees near the clearing were beginning to crackle as Gerry, muttering curses to the mosquitoes and the uneven path, neared them. Eagle smiled briefly and both brows raised in sardonic amusement. “Pick a husband, Whitney. Personally, it’s my suggestion that you get that one back on a plane for Richmond. He may not be a bad guy—it’s obvious that he does care about you—but he’s dismally out of place here. And with you—I know that now. I guess I knew it from the beginning; I just needed to
feel
it.”

With a last little salute he spun around and vaulted back into the jeep. Whitney, still searching for her tongue, stared after him, amazed. She had listened with virtual speechlessness to all he had had to say, and after his first angry questions, he hadn’t expected a single answer. He had told her to come to him, and then he had walked away.

“Whitney!” Gerry stumbled from the trees, dusting his cuffs, as Eagle’s jeep graveled away in a cloud of dust.

“You didn’t have to leave me alone!” Gerry grumbled gruffly. Whitney finally peeled her eyes from the disappearing vehicle to turn distractedly to her ex-husband.

“What?”

“Oh, never mind.” Oddly enough, Gerry seemed amused. He set an arm lightly around her shoulders. “Get me out of here, will you? Then you can get back to your Indian.”

“Pardon?”

“Listen, Whitney,” Gerry said with a smile, still brushing at his clothing uneasily, “on that score I don’t need a road map.” He flicked a tendril of her hair softly from her face with a sigh of sadness. “Whitney, I did come here for the wrong reasons. I wanted to bring you back to Richmond—and back to me. But Stewart had some things to say that made sense. And more than that, Whit, I saw the way you looked at him. You never looked at me like that.”

“Oh, Gerry,” Whitney said miserably.

“Don’t,” Gerry interrupted, “it’s okay.” He headed for the jeep. “Shall I drive?”

Whitney nodded mutely and climbed in beside him. Her heart, mind and emotions were spinning crazy cartwheels.

Eagle had come to the Glades to find her. In straight terms he had announced that he believed in her, he had defended her in front of Gerry …

And he had claimed her as his—if that was what she wanted.

Even his brief streak of jealousy had come quickly under control. He was a towering pinnacle of strength, one that neither suffocated nor strangled but stood sturdy, offering support.

She had really been a fool, allowing anger and pride to come between them. She had walked out on him once without giving him a chance at explanation.

And since then she had given him little but argument.

Now she had a chance to walk back into his life. Many things still needed to be said on both sides, but they were all so inconsequential.

A small smile curved her lips. He had threatened to dominate, but she was learning that love’s domination could be a wonderful thing. It did not hinder or bind but led to growth and wove those webs that were of one’s own choosing.

All she needed now was nerve. And belief.

Cartwheels were churning in her stomach again. It would be so hard to go to him! Already niggling doubts were worming their way into her resolution.

Had he really said he wanted her? And, she wondered wistfully, did he love her?

He had yet to say the words.

T
RUE TO HIS WORD,
Gerry was ready to take the first available shuttle out of Naples. In less than two hours since they left the Glades, Whitney was standing with him before the gate that led to his small plane.

With his hands upon her shoulders, he smiled affectionately and kissed both her cheeks. “Good luck, Whitney.”

Impulsively Whitney hugged him back. “The right woman is out there for you somewhere, Gerry, and when you find her you’ll know it beyond a doubt.”

“Oh? How?” he asked skeptically.

“Skyrockets!” she told him impishly. “You’d better get on that plane.”

And then she watched as her “unfinished business” rumbled, circled and flew north.

It was showdown time, and her nerves began to jitter even as she left the airport. And as she had once wondered in the waters of the hammock lake, her question was, Where is that damned man?

Come to me. Where? And then she was suddenly sure. He had gone to the place where they had sealed the vows of their love before any commitment had been spoken.

Nervous but determined to follow her course, Whitney stopped at her room and called her office to announce that she would be gone for a few days. Susie cheerfully accepted her message and then had one to give her.

“Mr. Stewart called for you this morning. I told him I believed you had gone to the land site. Did he ever get hold of you?”

“Yes,” Whitney said and smiled. “He certainly did.”

Saying good-bye, she slowly replaced the receiver, elation adding to her jitters.

Eagle had not just stumbled upon her. He had come out purposely to find her.

Slow, she told her pounding heart. Before she allowed herself to take flight in dreams, she still had much to do, and she had to be sure …

Picking up the phone again, she dialed his office. She could now picture the soft-spoken blonde who informed her that Eagle Stewart had left the office early that morning and would be out indefinitely on personal business.

This time her hand was shaking so badly she had to fumble with the receiver twice before she reset it correctly. She was holding a very special happiness in the palm of her hand.

Don’t let me lose it, God! she prayed silently.

There was one more call she had to make—the hardest. But the day was fading fast, and there was only one way she knew of to reach the Eagle settlement deep in the Glades …

Flipping through her address book, she found the number for the Big Cypress Reservation. As she was passed from person to person and put on hold, desperation began to grow within her, a stifled sob catching in her throat as she waited.

She had to reach Eagle today. She couldn’t bear another night of uncertainty … and if she waited, the doubts and fears would come back full force and she might lose her chance.

“Randy!” She breathed a sigh of relief as he finally came to the phone. “I really hate to do this to you again,” she began after he had happily greeted her. “But I need another favor. This time I have to get back
into
the reservation. I have to find Eagle, and I’m sure he must be out with Morning Dew. Randy, I know you must be busy, but is there any way you could get me out there today?”

Randy chuckled, and Whitney could well imagine him grinning on the other end of the wire. He would be wearing that lopsided smile that stated he found women irrational yet wonderful little creatures that needed to be humored. Maybe he was feeling like a smug-as-pie matchmaker.

Whitney didn’t care. As long as he felt like humoring her at the moment.

“I’m sure I can work something out, Whitney. Go on out to Eagle’s cabin in the woods, and I’ll round up Katie and meet you as soon as possible. You do know the way to the cabin?”

“By heart,” Whitney replied wryly.

“Good. Then see you soon.”

Whitney was standing and grabbing her shoulder bag before they could say good-bye. She raced out of her room and to the BMW and out once more to Alligator Alley.

A rueful smile curved her lips as she pulled into the long dirt drive that led to the cabin. Had it only been a month since she had first followed this trail—a different Whitney, so sure of her convictions?

It had all started here, a slow process of learning, taught by a man of quiet strength whom she had given herself to before she had begun to understand. It was almost as if fate had sent her, frightened and blind, down this trail and directly into the arms of the man who would open her eyes to love.

Randy arrived with Katie in just moments, and they set out together in the jeep. Neither of the Harrises had any questions or comments to make about her mad desire to see Eagle as soon as possible; indeed, they acted as if her calling them to rush from work to take the long ride into the heart of the swamp was the most natural thing in the world.

Their conversation was casual yet strangely close and intimate in the jeep. Once they had begun the trek through the sawgrass in the airboat, they all had little to say.

Whitney scanned the acres of marshland with growing trepidation. Was this what Eagle had meant? Was her coming to him in the deep Glades the sign of trust he needed?

“Pa hay okee,
” Katie said softly.

“Pardon?” Whitney was jolted from her fearful reflections to turn to her.

“Pa hay okee,
” Katie repeated, spreading her arms to encompass the land they streaked through. “River of grass. It is our homeland; it succors and supports us, because we love and cherish it for all that it is. I think it is your homeland, too, Whitney.”