Honor Bound(31)

Their middles convulsed, reflexively, and then he began to move. Pumping slowly, he entered and withdrew repeatedly. He was smooth and hard and warm. He was animal. He was man. He was wonderful. Aislinn wondered how she had survived all these years without knowing this, without having him.

He whispered something in his native language, then suddenly braced himself above her with stiff arms. "My name is Lucas," he rasped.

"Lucas," she repeated on a breath. Then more loudly, "Lucas."

"I want to … oh, God … I want to see this … us…" He looked down at the place where their bodies were joined, where dark met fair, where male met female. He made a circular, grinding motion with his hips. It robbed Aislinn of breath. Her throat arched. But she couldn't close her eyes, even though the sublime ecstasy of it commanded her to.

She stared into his face and recorded it for memory. It was dark, beautiful, savage. Sweat beaded on his forehead as his movements gained momentum.

"I want to remember I want to remember I want to remember," he chanted as he thrust into her. "When they take me back … oh, God…"

He reared his head back. His gray eyes bore down into hers for only a second before they closed. He grimaced, locked in the throes of exquisite sexual climax. He slid his hands beneath her hips, palmed her derriere and held her tightly as the tremors claimed him.

Aislinn wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her face into the mat of hair on his chest, and trembled with her own fulfillment.

Endless moments later, he collapsed on top of her. His lips moved against her ear, but if he was actually speaking words, they were indistinguishable. She stroked the back of his head, loving the feel of his hair against her cheek.

How long they lay there, their bodies damp with perspiration, she never remembered. Nor could she ever recall exactly what it was that roused them from that blissful lassitude.

All she could ever remember was the expression on his face when he lifted his head and gazed down at her. For an instant, he looked infinitely sad, resigned, somewhat grateful, before his face closed again and became remote.

He left her. Standing, he zipped his jeans, but made no effort to rebutton his shirt. He walked to the edge of the cliff and looked down toward Joseph Greywolf's hogan.

"You'd better get dressed. They've come for me."

The words struck her chest like heavy stones. She wanted to cry out in protest, but to what avail? Where could she hide him? How could she protect him? Besides, Lucas looked as though he was supremely indifferent to either his immediate or long-range future, much less to hers.

Feeling chilled to the bone despite the rising temperature, Aislinn hurriedly adjusted her clothing. Shakily she stood and dusted off her back as best she could. She reeled with the enormity of what they had done. Her cheeks were hot with shame even as her body continued to pulse with aftershocks.

She wasn't finished yet. It was over too soon. Incomplete. She wanted a tender aftermath. She wanted the closeness that was supposed to follow what they had just shared.

What had she expected, a profession of love, a hearty thank-you, a tension-easing joke? Lucas gave her nothing more than a casual glance with empty, emotionless eyes before he started down the rocky path toward the floor of the canyon.

She covered her face with her hands in a vain attempt to get a grip on herself. Her knees could barely support her as she walked to the edge of the plateau. The sight that greeted her did nothing to restore her composure.

Official cars, each with its red and blue lights flashing, clustered around the hogan. The small dwelling was swarming with men in uniforms, like bees around a honeycomb. One officer was poking around in her car.

"Put your hands over your head, Greywolf," a voice barked at him through a bullhorn.

Lucas complied, though it made his descent down the mountainside hazardous.

Feeling helpless, Aislinn watched from above. An ambulance roared up to the front door of the hogan. Moments later Joseph Greywolf's draped body was carried out on a collapsible gurney. Alice, supported by Gene Dexter's arm, followed close behind.

Two officers came scrambling up the slope toward Lucas. When they reached him, each grabbed an arm and roughly drew it behind him. One clamped on a pair of handcuffs before they started down again.

Lucas walked tall. His bearing was haughty, almost condescending. He seemed impervious to what was going on around him. Only when he saw the ambulance doors closing on his grandfather's body did Aislinn notice a tension in his shoulders. Alice ran toward her son and threw her arms around his waist. Lucas bent his head and kissed her cheek before a deputy sheriff rudely jerked him toward a waiting car.

Seconds before they pushed him inside, he raised his head and looked directly at Aislinn where she still stood on the precipice. Except for that, she might not have existed for Lucas Greywolf.





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Chapter 6



"When are you going to marry me?"

"When are you going to give up and stop asking?"

"When you say yes."

Alice Greywolf folded the dishtowel she'd been using and carefully laid it on the drainboard. Sighing, she turned and faced Gene Dexter. "You're either steadfast or stubborn. I can't decide which. Why haven't you given up on me?"

He slid his arms around her slender waist and drew her close, laying his cheek against the sleek crown of her head. "Because I love you. Always have. Ever since the first time I saw you in the clinic."