Warrior's Embrace (6 page)

He peeled off her robe and took her on the
kitchen table, took her with such thoroughness that she was
mindless with joy.

Time and again he brought her spiraling out
of control, and when she finally protested that she didn’t have an
ounce of passion left, he proved her wrong. They shouted their
completion at the same time, Virginia with a soft primal scream and
Bolton in the beautiful musical language of his people.

“My Apache warrior,” Virginia whispered,
pulling him close. “My magnificent, glorious, beautiful, lusty
Apache warrior.”

“I would fight ten thousand battles for you,
Virginia. And win every one of them.”

“You don’t have to fight for me. I’m
yours...” His eyes glowed with such triumph that she knew he’d
misunderstood. “... for the rest of this week, at least.”

For a moment it looked as if Bolton would
protest. Instead she felt his passion rise, and when he took her
again, it was with such fierceness that she could think of nothing
but him, see nothing but him, do nothing but scream out her
pleasure.

When it was over, she rearranged her robe.
Her hands shook as she reached for her coffee cup. Kneeling beside
her, he caught her hands and brought them to his lips.

“I love you, Virginia. Now and always.”

“Don’t...” She batted her eyes against quick
tears. “Don’t spoil what we have.” She cupped his face, not
tenderly but urgently. “We have so little time. Every minute is
precious. Please don’t spoil this week with talk of the
future.”

“It’s foolish to run from fate, Virginia.
Sooner or later you’re going to have to stop and face the truth. We
belong together. Our futures are intertwined.”

“We have no future, Bolton. End of
discussion.”

She jumped up and started cleaning the
kitchen. Though she had a cleaning service three times a week, it
gave her something to do, some reason to turn her back on the man
who could seduce her with a single glance and steal her reason with
a single smile.

He was so quiet that for a while she thought
he’d gone. Then she felt his hands on her shoulders and his chest
pressed against her back.

“All right, Virginia. End of discussion. At
least for a while.”

She understood that he was offering a
compromise. She could either take it or face the alternative: Send
him away and end it right there. She didn’t know if she was too
selfish, too hungry, too cowardly, or all three. All she knew was
that as long as he was in Mississippi, she had to have Bolton Gray
Wolf.

She patted his left hand. “You said something
about going back to Tupelo to get your things.”

“Yes.” He turned her around and tipped her
face up. “I’ll be back, Virginia.”

She smiled. “I never doubted for a minute
that you would.”

“Good. I don’t want you to have any doubts
about me.”

His tone was serious again, and she wasn’t
about to tread into those deep waters. If she kept plunging in, she
was liable to drown.

“Shoo.” She grabbed a dish towel and
playfully swatted his legs. “Scat. If you don’t leave, I’m never
going to get these oak leaves washed out of my hair.”

As soon as he was out the door, she called
and canceled all appointments for the week.

o0o

Leaving Virginia was hard, even for the short
while it took to drive back to Tupelo, get the rest of his gear,
and take care of his motel bill. But Bolton had to go. There was
something more important than his motel bill that needed taking
care of.

He dialed Janice’s home number, thankful it
was Sunday and he wouldn’t have to say the things that needed to be
said while she was at school. Her phone rang five times, and he had
almost given up when she answered.

“Bolton? How wonderful to hear from you.”

Janice’s voice was full of expectations, and
Bolton felt awash with sadness. What he had to say would hurt her,
and he would never intentionally hurt a flea.

“How are you, Janice?”

“Great. I was outside gathering acorns and
fall leaves for a little project at school. We’re going to have an
autumn festival, you see...”

When Janice got wound up about her
children,
the name she used to refer to her students, she
could go on for hours. Bolton was not only patient with her
stories, but interested in them. Janice was one of the unsung
heroes who brought enthusiasm as well as skill and talent to the
classroom, one of the thousands of great teachers whose only reward
would be the success of the young people she taught. He admired her
for what she did and loved her for the way she did it, loved her
not as he loved Virginia, not in the soul-deep way of two people
who were destined by fate to be together, but in the sweet, quiet
way of friends who want only the best for each other.

Janice was breathless when she finished her
tale.

“Oh, my. Just listen to me prattling on. How
about you, Bolton. How is your trip?”

It was the perfect opening. He sent a quick
prayer winging upward that he could tell the truth in the kindest
way possible.

“Janice, sometimes things start out to be one
thing and turn into another. That’s what has happened to me. What
started out to be an assignment turned out to be a miracle.”

There was a small strangled cry on the other
end of the line. If he could have done this any other way, he would
have. He would have preferred being face-to-face with Janice, being
there to hold her hand and wipe her tears, for he knew they were
inevitable. But he couldn’t live a lie. He couldn’t be with
Virginia while Janice was back home in Arizona thinking he’d come
home to her.

There had to be an ending before he could
hope for a beginning.

“What are you saying, Bolton?”

“Janice, you know that I think you’re a
wonderful woman—kind, sweet, talented, intelligent. You’re a good
friend and a good companion, and I enjoy your company. But I’ve
never pretended to be in love with you.”

“You’ve met someone else.” Her calm manner
surprised and pleased him. He’d been prepared to deal with
hysterics.

“Yes, she’s...”

“Bolton, listen to me. I don’t care if you
have a fling. Sometimes people get carried away...”

He could hear her mounting hysteria, and he
wanted to stop her before she said things she’d later regret.

“Janice...”

“... and then when they get back home they
realize that nothing has changed, that they were just sowing a few
wild oats... and that’s okay with me, really it is.” She choked on
a sob.

“Janice, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt
you.”

“Bolton... excuse me, just give me a minute.”
Janice struggled for control and won. “You’re neither manipulative
nor unkind. You don’t have a mean bone in your body. I know you
didn’t deliberately set out to find someone else.”

“Not just someone. My fate. My destiny.”

There was a long silence broken only by
muffled sniffs and sighs.

“Janice... are you all right?”

“I’m all right, really I am.” She drew a deep
resigned breath. “Bolton, if I thought I had a ghost of a chance to
change your mind, I would. I would beg and plead and maybe even
threaten, but I’m not willing to embarrass myself or you. Lord
knows I’ve embarrassed myself enough already.” Her laugh was shaky,
but at least she was laughing. “Your heritage may be half in one
world and half in another, but in some things you’re all Apache.
When you speak of fate, I know there is no use trying to change
your mind.”

“How did I ever get so lucky as to have a
friend like you, Janice?”

“Can we still be friends, Bolton?”

“I’d like that, Janice. I’d like it very
much.”

“So would I.” There was a long pause, and he
could almost see the deep breaths she took as she pulled herself
together. “Bolton... who is she? Or is that a fair question?”

“It’s fair. In fact, I think you have a right
to know. It’s Virginia Haven.”

“Virginia Haven?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t she...”

“What?” There was a long silence before
Janice spoke.

“You’ve always wanted children, Bolton, and I
know I’ve read somewhere... Isn’t she too...” Janice was stumbling
now over her words, too polite to come right out and say what she
meant. “I think she has a grown daughter.”

“This is not a problem for me, Janice.”

“I see... Bolton... if things don’t work out,
I’m here for you.”

“I don’t want you to have false hopes.”

“I’m not... I just want you to know...” There
was a long pause, and then a small sniffle. Then Janice was back on
the line, attempting to laugh. “You’re right, as usual. I’m being a
silly goose.”

“Will you be all right, Janice?”

“I’m going to be fine. Just fine. You go back
to your Virginia, and I’m going to get on with my life.”

“Good girl. Take care, Janice.”

“You too. And Bolton... I hope she knows how
lucky she is.”

“I’m the lucky one.”

Bolton packed the rest of his gear, then
turned his face west toward Pontotoc, west toward the woman he
loved.

Virginia woke up filled with a sense of
urgency, as if she were being pursued. Her body was tensed for
flight, but deep down she knew that no matter how fast she ran, she
could never outdistance the thing that was closing in on her.

Automatically she turned toward the pillow
where Bolton lay sleeping. He would protect her, he would make
everything all right. She started to call his name, and then
changed her mind. He was gorgeous, spread across her bed like a
resplendent god.

She watched the even rise and fall of his
chest, the soft flutter of his lashes, the half smile that twitched
across his mouth. One hand was flung palm up over his head, the
other lying across his chest.

Bolton had been with her for almost a week
and it felt as if he’d been a part of her life forever. She
couldn’t imagine how she’d ever gone to sleep without him by her
side or how she’d ever been able to face a day without first being
kissed awake by her magnificent Apache warrior.

She rested her head on his chest, not moving,
not trying to incite passion, merely listening to the steady rhythm
of his heart. She lifted herself on elbows and studied him.
Suddenly she was staring straight into eyes.

“What?” he asked, smiling.

“Just looking.” She traced his face with her
fingertips. “Memorizing.”

“You don’t have to memorize. I’ll be here for
you. Always.”

“Shhh.” She covered his mouth with her hands.
“Don’t say anything to mar this day.”

He pulled her into a fierce embrace, and then
kissed all her troubled thoughts away. With the sun dappling the
covers, they made slow, exquisite love. And after it was over, she
propped herself on pillows against the headboard, deliberately not
touching him.

“You have to leave today,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“Candace is coming home for the weekend.
She’s bringing a friend.”

“I want to get to know Candace better. I
think meeting her friends is a good start.”

“Bolton... don’t.”

“Are you ashamed of me, Virginia?”

“Ashamed of you? Don’t be absurd.”

“Then why do you want me to leave?”

“I think that’s obvious.”

“The only thing that’s obvious to me is that
you’ve made a decision about something that affects me without my
knowledge and without my consent.”

She had never seen Bolton this way. He burned
white-hot, not with rage but with determination. Everything about
him was steely, his eyes, the set of his face, the way he held his
body.

She shivered with excitement.

Suddenly her pillow was jerked away and she
was underneath him, her hands pinned over her head.

“At least tell me the rules,” he said.

“What rules?”

“The ones you’re playing by.”

“There are no rules.”

“The code then. What’s the code of
behavior?”

“Let me up, Bolton.”

“Not until we talk.”

“Can’t we talk like civilized human
beings?”

“Apparently not. You don’t discuss things
with me; you merely make decisions and then tell me what you’ve
decided.” He applied gentle pressure with his hips and hands. “Talk
to me, Virginia.”

She’d known Bolton was not a man who could be
manipulated, but she’d never counted on him being the kind of man
who wouldn’t give in to reason.
Her
reason.

“Don’t make this harder than it already is,
Bolton.”

“These are not hard questions, Virginia.
They’re honest ones. And they deserve honest answers.”

She’d never met a man so implacable. Today
she didn’t feel like handling
implacable.
Next week,
maybe. Or even next month. But not today.

“All right. You want an honest answer. I’m
forty-eight years old, and I live by codes that you’re too young to
understand.”

His entire body tensed, and his eyes turned
the color of thunderclouds.

“Do you think love knows or cares about age?”
This time the pressure he applied with his hips was not subtle. “I
don’t care if you’re fifty-eight. That doesn’t change a thing. I
love you, and I have no intention of walking away quietly. If you
want to get rid of me, Virginia, you’re going to have to give me a
better reason than that.”

“Oh, God, Bolton. I don’t want to get rid of
you.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him hard. “I
don’t... I don’t.”

He parted her thighs with his knees and slid
home. There was no gentleness in him now, only the power of a man
determined to make a woman his own. The mattress moved out of line
with the box spring and the bed moved two inches away from the
wall.

Everything about Virginia set him on fire,
the way she raked her fingernails across his back, the way she
flung back her head when she moaned, the soft expanse of neck that
invited his kisses, the sweet, hot invitation of her thrusting
hips. His passion escalated.