Honor Bound(33)

"Can't we just go on as we have been?"

He shook his head. "No, Alice. I'll love you till the moment I draw my last breath, but I'm a man. I want and need a total loving relationship." He leaned forward. His voice was low and earnest. "I know why you're afraid to marry me."

Her head dropped forward and she drew a deep breath as though preparing herself to face a firing squad. Gene brushed the raven-black hair away from her face, his eyes compassionate. "You associate sex with being victimized. I swear to you, I won't hurt you as you were hurt before."

Her eyes were glossy with tears when she raised them to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"We've been needing to have this conversation for years, Alice, but I didn't want to antagonize you by bringing it up." He paused momentarily before plunging ahead. "You're afraid to love a man again, especially an Anglo." She clamped her teeth over her lower lip, and he knew he had hit the target squarely. "You think that as long as you maintain your distance you can't get hurt again."

He carried her hands up to his mouth. His lips moved against her knuckles as he said, "I swear I'd never, never, hurt you. Don't you know me well enough by now to know that you are the center of my life? I love you. Let me and I'll cherish your body. Why would I hurt someone who is a vital part of myself?"

"Gene." She whispered his name through her tears and leaned against him. His arms went around her and held her with the fervent passion reserved for something most dear. He kissed her long and thoroughly.

When at last the kiss ended, he asked, "When are you going to marry me?"

"As soon as Lucas gets out of prison."

He frowned. "God knows when that will be."

"Please, Gene, give me until then. He'd never forgive us if we married without him. And we don't want him to break out again," she added on a soft laugh.

He smiled, allowing her that rationalization. Actually, Gene thought that Lucas would feel better knowing his mother was happily married. Now, however, after getting that much of a commitment from her, was not the time to argue. "All right. But I'm going to hold you to that. As soon as Lucas gets out. And in the meantime…" he murmured as his eyes gazed deeply into hers.

"In the meantime…?"

"In the meantime, I'll keep doing what I've always done. I'll impatiently wait for you, Alice Greywolf."

* * *

"Come in, Mr. Greywolf." Lucas stepped through the door of the office. "Please close the door and sit down." Warden Dixon didn't extend the prisoner the courtesy of rising from his chair behind the wide desk, but he exhibited no condescension toward him either. He studied the man with interest.

Lucas walked across the office and dropped into the chair the warden of the prison camp had indicated. Dixon was surprised that there was no meekness in the man's attitude. Far from being cowed, the prisoner had the bearing of a proud, undaunted man. His cool, gray eyes made no furtive movements, dead giveaways of guilt. They met those of the warden without a trace of repentance or remorse. Humility and deference were noticeably absent.

"Apparently the ordeal of the past several weeks hasn't cost you physically," the warden observed out loud. Since his return to the prison, the prisoner had been kept in a cell away from the others and disallowed any privileges.

"I'm fine," Lucas said laconically.

"A bit thinner, I think. A few days of cafeteria food should remedy that."

Lucas crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. "If you're going to spank my hands, get it over with, please. I'd like to return to my cell."

Warden Dixon curbed his temper. Years of dealing with recalcitrant prisoners had taught him to withstand the strongest provocation. He got out of his chair behind the desk and went to stand at the window, deliberately putting his back to Greywolf. He hoped the man would interpret that as a sign of trust. "The disciplinary action we've decided to take isn't nearly as severe as your escape warranted."

"Thanks," Lucas said sarcastically.

"Up to the time of your breakout, you were a model prisoner."

"I always try to do my best."

Again the warden exercised extreme self-restraint. "The board and I, after carefully reviewing your records, have voted to extend your sentence by six months in addition to the weeks you've already cost yourself. Our decision met with the approval of the penal-system officials."

Dixon turned quickly, in time to see Greywolf's astonishment before he abruptly masked it. Turning back to face the window, the warden hid his smile. Mr. Greywolf might try to remain indifferent, but he was as human as the next. Perhaps even more so. Dixon hadn't run across too many men who would risk spending more time behind bars to attend the death of their grandfather.

Lucas Greywolf sparked an admiration in the warden that was rare and unsettling. Given the same set of circumstances, would he have done what Greywolf had? It was a question that bothered him.

"Was it worth six more months in prison to see your grandfather before he died?"

"Yes."

The warden returned to his desk. "Why?"

Lucas lowered his leg back to the floor and assumed a more respectful posture. "Joseph Greywolf was a proud man. He clung stubbornly to tradition, often to his detriment. My being in prison bothered him more than it did me. He couldn't stand the thought that the grandson of a chief had to live behind bars."