Raven left the lodge of the women as soon as she had a.s.sured them that she had not seen any other white warriors. They would be safe until tomorrow, because all knew that the whites who walked across the land in wagons did not travel at night.

She saw the open flap and smiled at his signal that he welcomed visitors. Still, she called a greeting from beside the entrance and heard the rustle of his bedding. She shivered in antic.i.p.ation, and with the air that chilled her skin, knowing that he would keep her warm.

Running Wolf bid her enter with the formal reply, but his words were deep and his voice gravelly. She ducked inside and barely had her bearings before he dragged her against him and fell back upon the soft cushion of buffalo robes beside the small cozy fire.

She laughed at his eagerness. He was right. Words could wait, but this, this need to hold him, breathe in his scent and taste the salt upon his skin, this was essential.

Just the flexing of his arm as he stroked her head sent a lightning bolt of desire streaking through her so that she pulsed with each heartbeat. Between her legs, she was slick, eager, wanton. What had happened to the chaste maiden who found no man worth encouraging?

He was her hunger. Her thirst. He made her blood heat and her body tremble and all he did was brush his thumb over her bottom lip.

But he would do more, so much more.

She leaned over his p.r.o.ne body and smiled down at him. He was so beautiful. She tried to memorize his face, each line and sharp angle. His mouth glistened as he smiled and then licked his lower lip. Seeing that tongue and thinking of how it had felt against her skin made her shiver.

"Are you cold, little bird?"

"No. Aroused."

That made his eyebrows lift. He sat up, taking her with him. He reached for the hem of her dress. An instant later she understood why men prefer their women in dresses, for the garment easily went up and over her head. He tossed it beside the fire and grinned a challenge.

"Now you," she said.

He leaned to one side, offering his hip. She tugged at the knot that fell away.

He'd have her in his bed tonight. But what of tomorrow?

Don't think of that now, she cautioned. This was not their marriage bed. Her wanting and his wanting did not stop the obstacles that separated them. Knowing they faced uncertainty only made her more desperate to have him.

She did not know what awaited them. She only knew that they had tonight. Tonight he was her husband and she was his wife. Their tribes would not accept them. But they had accepted each other.

She raked the strong muscles of his chest. He returned her hungry stare and she felt her nipples tighten and ache. She reached with both hands, greedy for the feast of his body. He lay back to let her explore. She stroked his arm first, just a brush, but his skin stippled at the contact and she smiled. Both hands grazed the skin of his chest, traveling lower as that most needy part of him twitched and lengthened.

She took him with one hand as she pressed her lips to his chest, then lowered her mouth to the center line of his body until she was just above the thick dark hair that curled around his shaft.

He dragged his fingers through her short hair as if uncertain whether to stop or encourage her. She used her tongue to touch the tip of him and he groaned, his hips lifting from the ground.

His scent and the velvet softness of the skin that sheathed his hard erection... All were tantalizing. She used her mouth to explore the entire length of him again and again as her fingers danced over his inner thighs, his taut hips and his ribbed stomach.

Without warning he grasped her by both shoulders and lifted her up and away as if she was a child straying too near the fire.

He kissed her neck and the sh.e.l.l of her ear, taking the lobe into his mouth to suck. A flood of moisture accompanied the welling of sensation as his tongue darted in and out. He blew on the wet skin and she shivered with delight as she gasped and clung.

He laid her on her back and she locked her heels against his firm b.u.t.tocks, pressing him forward as he resisted, coming up on his forearms and then rolling to his side next to her. From this position she was the bounty stretched open before him. He gobbled her up with his gaze and then followed with his hands and mouth.

Her head dropped back and her eyes shut to savor the sensation of his touch. When he splayed his hands over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, a moan rumbled deep in her throat. He lapped and licked his way from one plump breast to the other as she lifted up to meet his hungry mouth. Running Wolf moved leisurely down her aroused body until she thought she understood why the elk ran after the females until they succeeded or died of exhaustion. What a wonderful way to die, she decided, here in his arms, as his own precious love.

She wanted him to touch her everywhere. Tonight she did not listen for the sound of discovery or worry what others might say or do. Tonight she was free to lose herself in her lover and give to him all she would receive.

Running Wolf was the only man who completely enthralled her. It was with a welling of melancholy that she understood that one night or a thousand would never satisfy her need for his touch. Why could she not have him for now and always?

What about the Spirit World? Would she still be bound to the allegiance to her tribe, even there?

She looked between their bodies, reaching between her legs first to wet her fingers on her own slickness and then, grasping what she wanted, stroking his erection. He gave a quick gasp of breath and set his jaw as if fighting the need to take her.

Her slippery fingers glided over his taut flesh so that he swelled even larger in her hands.

"Bend your legs," he ordered, and she did.

Running Wolf pressed her back to the robes, taking a long look at her lovely form, knowing that he was the man she had chosen against all reason. They must be mad.

Her creamy flesh glowed light against the black hair of the buffalo. He memorized the sight of her, treasuring the gift of this night, already regretting what would come when they were found by the Crow. She was worth it, he thought. What better thing was there to die for? Duty? No, that was an illusion. If he died now, it would be for love.

Her clever fingers continued to stroke. He swept her hands away. He would not be rushed. He collected her wrists and pinned them above her head in one hand.

"You are still my captive," he said.

"Always," she murmured.

"And I am yours."

Her fragrance drew him like nectar. He had to taste her.

She reclined now, giving him a fine view of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, aroused, budded and full. Raven waited, naked and wanting, for him. He found the sight the strongest of temptations, and he hadn't even tasted her yet. But he could smell her arousal, the musk that made him dizzy with antic.i.p.ation. She let her bent legs drop to either side and lifted her hips, showing him her slick, pink flesh.

Her gaze drifted from his until she stared at his engorged s.e.x. Only once in his arms, and already she was no timid maiden. Now her look was bold and certain. She knew what she wanted. But he would not give it to her just yet.

She pouted now, her full bottom lip thrust outward. He leaned down and took it between his teeth and tugged. Her inhalation was sharp. He released her and smiled down.

"Why do you not take me?" she asked.

"Patience. There is more to show you."

Now she looked curious; her lovely brown eyes glittered with intelligence and speculation. His insides twitched. She was an eager learner. What would she learn from him now? He already antic.i.p.ated her using what he would show her on him. Would they have the chance? How many more days and nights did they have?

Already they were in the territory disputed by both tribes, the land that had long been Crow before their numbers had fallen as the Sioux's had grown.

"What will you show me?" she asked.

He lowered himself to press his mouth to her neck and then moved in a winding path down her body, loving her curves and hollows. Pausing to taste and lick and suck until she writhed beneath him, making urgent sounds of need. He traveled slowly, but with a destination in mind, reaching the soft wet flesh between her splayed legs.

He settled there, wrapping his arms under her, controlling her hips and lifting her up to meet his mouth. He sucked that tiny bud of flesh as she twitched and thrashed, trying to escape and draw closer. He relished the soft panting and tiny trembling moans she made when he dipped two fingers inside her. He sucked and licked and grazed the tender nub with his teeth. He rocked her against his mouth, mimicking the motion of a man and woman, and she threw back her head. She tossed her head from side to side, her fingers clenched in the hair of the buffalo as she cried out. The first contraction squeezed his fingers in a rolling wave.

She moaned and bucked, holding herself open to him as he continued to lick her wet cleft. He would do anything for her. Did she know that? Her cries faded and he laid her gently back to the ground. His body now demanded release. She gave another little moan as he rocked his hips against hers.

He rubbed his slick mouth on her stomach as he scaled her body, licking the dimpled navel and the hollow beneath her ribs. She lifted an arm in welcome and tangled her fingers in his loosely braided hair.

When his lips reached her throat, she had already begun to undulate in a sinuous dance, her hips b.u.mping against his thighs.

She kissed his neck now, her fingers raking his back, her nails grazing his skin. She smiled an invitation at him with her eyelids heavy and her pupils large and dark.

She raised her legs and locked her ankles about his back and used one hand to position him. He dropped in a swift fall, like a diving hawk, until their hips locked and he was sheathed inside her. He paused a moment, his forehead resting on hers. Nothing in the world had ever been sweeter than this.

Then he drew back only to drop against her again. A moment later he understood the advantages of riding a woman who could ride. She was firm and soft, strong and yielding.

Perfect.

The sight of her flushed face and parted lips made his stomach twitch. He wanted to bring her pleasure again, wanted them both to fall into that madness together. But she was so hot and so wet and it had been so long. He growled as the need gripped him, rocking harder.

Raven threw back her head as a long, rasping moan broke from her lips. A moment later, he felt the rippling contraction squeezing his aroused flesh. He gasped and plunged deeper into her willing body.

She cried out as the contractions hammered inside her, her pleasure releasing his. He came in a hot rush of throbbing waves of pure pleasure that shot from his core and blazed outward. He arched as he pulsed inside her. Both lay motionless for a moment, locked in this sharing of the ultimate pleasure.

Raven relaxed first, collapsing to the earth. He toppled next, half upon her, landing at her side, their breathing labored as their bodies came to sweet stillness. Raven stretched and made a humming sound down deep in her throat. He chuckled at the sound of pure feminine contentment.

The air hung heavy with the sweet scent of their joining. Their breathing quieted. Raven shivered and he reached for one of the large buffalo robes, dragging the covering over their cooling bodies. She nestled close and slipped one leg over his thighs. Then, still but for their heartbeats and the steady draw of their breathing, they rested at last in each other's arms.

Knowing that this could not last made it all the sweeter. She lay beside him, her body sated, and they slept.

Before dawn Snow Raven woke; her mind rolled like waves on the lakes before the storm.

"What will happen now?" she whispered.

"I am bringing you to your people."

"But what will happen to you?"

He did not answer. She tensed. What if they hurt him? She pressed an open hand over his heart.

"My chief asked me to go on a vision quest before returning to my tribe. And this I will do. But it may be many seasons before I return."

"Why?"

There was a long pause.

"Because I wish to stay with you."

The delight and surprise tingled through her and she lifted to one elbow to look down at him in the light of dawn.

"Stay?"

"Is it so uncommon for a husband to join the tribe of his wife?"

"Not so uncommon if you were Apsalooke. But you are not. What if they will not accept you?" Other possibilities sprang upon her. Captives were adopted in some cases, but mainly if they were children, and only then to replace a loved one. More often they were killed or enslaved. "It's too dangerous. I do not want you to do it."

"How else can we be together?"

"I will come back with you. You can marry me."

"You cannot return to my tribe, ever, because you are supposed to be dead."

She had forgotten that. Two people alone could not survive. They needed a tribe.

"It must be your tribe. There is no choice."

"I could be your slave," she said.

"No. They would kill you this time." He took hold of her hand. "There is only one question you must answer, Snow Raven. Will you let me protect you with my life? Will you marry me?"

"I will."

He kissed her hard and drew her against him so her cheek rested on his wide, strong chest. Her husband, she thought. But for how long? How could she keep him alive?

"But you are a war chief."

"No longer. Raven." He drew back, sat up and faced her. Before speaking again, he grasped both of her hands. "Once you said you wanted a man who would see you before all else. I was not that man. But now I am. I am yours first. I will do my duty to my tribe and I hope that will be your tribe, but your needs and your safety come first. If your people will accept me, I will fight their enemies, your enemies."

"That might be your own people. Your best friend."

"I know this. When I thought I had lost you, I recognized that you were right. My love for you clouds all else. Though I hope I do not meet my brothers on the battlefield, I will fight them to keep you safe. You asked me to choose. I have done so."

"I pray to the Great Spirit that never happens."

Outside their lodge, Raven heard the sounds of the women rising and striking the other lodge.

"We must go," she said. Into an uncertain future. Raven held him and felt the strength of his arms about her. He would protect her from all enemies. But she must protect him from her brother and father.

She prayed they would have a few more days together before that time came. But that did not come to pa.s.s. Not long before they set out, they were spotted by an Apsalooke hunting party.

"What tribe?" asked Snake, shading her eyes with her hand.

"Low River," whispered Raven, recognizing the shield instantly. The red arrow was distinctive even from this distance. "That is my brother, Bright Arrow."

Chapter Twenty-Four.

Raven did not know if she should call to her brother or hide. All she had wanted had now happened. She had managed to spare these women's lives, and with Running Wolf's help, they had found her people. She was free.

But she was not free. She would never again be that lighthearted, foolish girl riding through the forest.

"I should go to him," she whispered.