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Authors: Constance O'Banyon

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BOOK: Wolf Runner
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His feelings were raw and near the surface and Wolf Runner knew it would take very little from her to push him over the edge. “Cheyenne,” he said, looking away from her eyes. “Now let me tell you about yourself. I have seen a young woman faced with heartbreak and sadness with no one but a stranger to turn to in her time of need. I have watched you face hardships and dangers, yet not once have I heard you complain. You should be proud of who you are—I certainly am proud of you.”

Cheyenne was flustered, and she felt like a thousand butterflies were beating their wings in her stomach. She did not know how it happened, but she quickly stood and moved toward Wolf Runner and he opened his arms to her. As he embraced her against his body, she trembled with desire.

Chapter Twenty-four

Wolf Runner’s breath was on her cheek; his lips followed her jawline and found her mouth. Feeling her lips tremble and then soften made him catch his breath.

Cheyenne tasted the saltiness of her tears when his lips touched hers ever so gently, as if he feared he would hurt her. She felt his hands move through her hair and she melted inside. Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice warned her to stop him, but another part of her was curious to explore the feelings he had awakened in her.

Pulling her tighter against him, he felt the softness of her body, and his hands moved over her curves.

Her heart was singing as he eased her back onto the fur robe and clasped her to him, his breathing heavy.

Reaching up, she touched his strong jaw and could tell he was clenching it tightly. He wanted to say something to her, Cheyenne could feel it, but instead he breathed her name.

“Cheyenne.”

Then he lapsed into the Blackfoot language and she did not know what he said to her.

“I have wanted to hold you like this,” he said, trembling. “You are in my heart,” he admitted, as if the words were torn from his lips. He was confessing all
because Cheyenne did not understand anything he said.

She slid her arms around his shoulders, and all his restraint broke. His hands were rough as he grabbed her to him, crushing his mouth against hers. His hands stopped at the curve of her waist, and he took advantage of exploring the soft curves that had enticed him almost from the beginning of their acquaintance.

“I want you,” he murmured against her ear, and he did not just mean her body—he wanted the right to call her his woman. He wanted to take her to his village and build her a lodge where they would live together. He wanted to be inside her to make her moan with the same passion he was feeling and had been fighting against for so long.

She nibbled at his mouth and he let out a loud hiss. “This is wrong,” he said in English, starting to move away.

But she took his hand and placed it on her breast. “It does not feel wrong to me.”

In the flickering firelight Wolf Runner pulled back. “It is wrong for you,” he said, his voice trembling with the restraint he kept over his equally shaking body. “I wish I could make you understand—to take you would fulfill my deepest desire. But I must not.”

Cheyenne touched his face. “How many days until we reach my grandfather’s village?”

He wondered where she was going with her question. “Two, maybe three. Why do you ask?”

“And after that we will never see each other again?”

He hesitated. “I do not believe we shall.”

“I would like to give you a memory of me, so you might think of me sometime.” She was shy as she
looked into those blazing eyes. “I give it freely, asking nothing in return.”

Wolf Runner’s body swelled painfully. He ached to take what she offered. His hand moved over her breast and he eased open the top lace of her gown so he could touch her bare skin. Bending his head, Wolf Runner touched his mouth against her breast. When she drew in her breath, his breath came out in a groan.

“Cheyenne,” he said, raising his head. “This is not fair to you. I am promised to another.”

His words were like a dash of cold water in her face. She lay there beside him, staring into his eyes for a long moment, trying to fight her way out of the passion that ruled her thinking. It took her a moment to speak, and when she did, it was in a whisper.

“I never considered that. I should have.” She pulled her gown together and sat up, tying the laces with trembling fingers. “Take no blame on yourself—the fault is all mine.”

He stilled her hands, covering them with his. “It will be a marriage of honor, Cheyenne, not of love—although I have cared for Blue Dawn like a friend for many years.”

Unshed tears glistened in Cheyenne’s eyes, and her pain went right to his heart.

“I understand.” But she did not really. He had said he cared for the woman, but did not love her. “Thank you for being honest with me. Your words prove you are a man of honor.”

“Cheyenne,” he said, reaching out to her. “Do not pull away from me.”

She moved his hand away from hers and finished lacing her gown. “I can only imagine what you must think of my actions.” She shook her head, wiping her
tears with her fingers. “I am truly a woman without honor.”

He gripped her by the shoulders. “No! I will not have you think that. If I told you all I feel for you, you would pity me.”

He was confusing her with words that pushed her away, and yet gave her hope. “Why should I pity you?”

“What I have to look forward to is a loveless marriage, and every time I take her in my arms, I will be wishing it was you.”

She shot to her feet and moved away from him. “Cruel words, Wolf Runner. You just sentenced us both to a life of misery.”

He stood up beside her. “If I had you tonight, it would be much worse for me, for I would always know what was lacking in my life. It would be good between us—I know that.”

Hesitantly she turned back to him. “Is it not better to have one night together, than to never have known the joining of our bodies?”

Wolf Runner swallowed deep and raised his head, looking at the ceiling, and she saw his throat contract.

Looking down at her, his hand shook as he touched her cheek. “Do not tempt me. You do not know how close I am to the edge. Help me to do what is right for you. What is right for us both.”

Tears burned behind her eyes. Gently touching his face, she smiled. “How will I ever find a husband who can erase your memory?”

He took her hand and raised it to his lips, hating the thought of any other man touching her. He wanted to go to Blue Dawn and confess that he did not love her. But he could never shame her before the whole tribe. She would have already been working on her
wedding dress, and her parents would already have given her their blessings.

“Cheyenne, I would have taken all of you tonight and let the rest of the world slip out of my mind. But if I guess right, you have never been intimate with a man.”

Cheyenne’s head fell forward on his shoulder, and she wanted to cry, but she dared not. “I have not been with a man, if that makes any difference. I never wanted to until…until…”

“It makes a difference.” Wolf Runner turned away, moved to the fireplace, and braced his hand on the mantel, lowering his head. “This night I have done the most honorable thing I have ever done in my life—and the most difficult.”

His trouble, he thought, was that he could not seem to keep his hands off her. He had always prided himself on his self-control—with her he had no control.

Suddenly Cheyenne was angry. “So do you think it’s honorable to marry a woman you don’t love? Is it honorable to turn away from what we have? I’m not saying you love me, but you wanted me, you know you did.”

He bent to throw two more logs on the fire before he turned back to face her. “What do you want of me, Cheyenne? My restraint hangs by a thread.” His eyes reflected his desperation. “More than anything I want you.”

She realized what she was doing to him and she had to stop his torment—and her own. “Don’t be concerned. I will not tempt you further,” she said, sitting down on the fur and unlacing her boots. “There is no reason to speak of this anymore.”

He stalked to the door, wrenched it open, and
slammed it behind him. Snow was swirling about him and the icy wind struck his face like shards of glass, and still he stood there, fighting the need to return to the cabin and take Cheyenne in his arms, to hold her to him, and to partake of her sweet body, to make love to her.

Walking over to the animals, Wolf Runner laid his hand on his horse’s sleek neck, trying to clear his mind.

But all he could think of was Cheyenne.

He tensed when he heard the nearby cry of a wolf, and an answering cry in the distant woods. Wolf Runner bent down to Satanta, who nuzzled his hand. “You hear them call to you, yet you are loyal to your mate who waits for you back in the village. Give me the strength to have half your trustworthy heart. I wonder if a part of you wants to join the wild pack, or if you yearn for your mate.”

Satanta looked up at Wolf Runner before settling himself near the horses, clearly unaffected by the call of the wild pack. Wolf Runner sighed. “Your noble heart is true to Madii—wolves mate for life, as must I.”

“Do not let those wolves come close to the horses,” Wolf Runner commanded Satanta.

Shivering from the cold, he returned to the cabin, glad he had finally gotten his wild passion under control. Once inside he saw that Cheyenne was curled up with her back to him and although he knew she was awake, she pretended to sleep.

He settled down by the fire and lay on the dirt floor, bracing his hands beneath his head. Against his will, he turned to look at Cheyenne. She was the perfect woman for him, and he thought he could make her happy too—but that could never be.

Again he wondered what his father had warned
him against—loving Cheyenne, or leaving her? Wind Warrior had also said Wolf Runner would suffer if he did not listen to his heart.

What did it mean?

His father often gave cryptic messages to members of the tribe, but it had been the first time he had ever told Wolf Runner something he did not understand.

He closed his eyes, already dreading the day he would look upon Cheyenne’s face for the last time.

When the time came, could his footsteps take him away from her?

They must.

The wind howled through the cracks in the logs and the fire was dying down, so he added more logs.

“Wolf Runner,” Cheyenne said, turning back to him, “there is no reason for you to lie on the hard ground. I will not repeat my actions. We are both adults.”

He could endure the cold, but he could not resist a chance to lie beside her.

Wolf Runner placed another log on the fire and watched sparks fly. Taking a heavy breath, he lay down beside Cheyenne, turning his back to her and staying just far enough away so they would not touch.

Heartsick and weary, he closed his eyes, feeling her pull the robe over them both.

Gusts of wind rattled the door and the fire lent its warmth to the night. Cheyenne lay awake until she heard Wolf Runner’s even breathing. He had fallen asleep so easily, but sleep eluded her.

It was much later when her eyelids became heavy and she drifted off to sleep.

She awoke sometime later feeling cold and noticed that the fire had died down. Wolf Runner had turned toward her, but she could tell by his easy breathing he still slept.

She knew she should get up and put more logs on the fire, but Wolf Runner was so near and Cheyenne wanted to drink in his essence while he was unaware of it.

In the glow of the embers she could see his dark hair fall across his forehead and down one shoulder. His long lashes lay against his tanned cheek. She wanted to touch him but she resisted the urge because she had given her word.

Cheyenne was taken totally by surprise when Wolf Runner’s eyes slowly opened and they stared at each other for a long time. Wordlessly they hung on to the moment, not touching, just feeling the love that bound them together and the honor that kept them apart.

Chapter Twenty-five

Moments passed and neither spoke.

Then slowly Wolf Runner drew her to him, saying in the Blackfoot language so she would not understand, “If I had my way I would awaken each morning looking into your eyes. I want to hold you to me and feel your heart beat.”

She was trembling, not from cold but from the tone of his voice. “I don’t understand your words.”

Wolf Runner closed his eyes, bringing her tighter against him while she touched his face. “It seems I cannot resist you, Cheyenne.” Then he slipped back into Blackfoot language. “You are in my heart and in my blood. This I know for certain.”

She laid her cheek against his, wishing she knew what he was saying to her, but it didn’t matter; he was holding her, brushing his mouth against her ear and sending shivers of delight throughout her body.

“I have never felt this intense longing with a woman before, and I have not even experienced our coming together,” he said in Blackfoot. “I never knew there was a deeper feeling than any I had ever known.”

Her heart sang with joy and she wished she could hold on to this moment in time for the rest of her life. She would have to. This was all she would ever have of Wolf Runner.

“I remember the first day I saw you ride into town.
My heart sang with joy because I thought ‘here is someone like me. He knows how it feels to be a part of two worlds and akin to neither.’”

Again he spoke in Blackfoot. “You are my world.”

Bending forward, she lightly touched her lips to his and he stiffened, so she pulled away. Why was he always sending her mixed meanings? He drew her to him and then pushed her away.

Wolf Runner saw the uncertainty and the hurt in her eyes, and he could understand why she was confused. He wanted her, ached for her, and yet he fought with his honor to leave her untouched.

Wolf Runner nuzzled her neck—he could not help himself. Perhaps Cheyenne was right, and if they could be together, it would give him something to live on after they had parted.

“I’ll put more wood on the fire,” she said, pushing him away. When she started to sit up, his restraint broke and he grabbed her to him.

“I will keep you warm.”

A sob slipped through her lips and she went to him. “Hold me. I need you to hold me.”

His mouth came down on hers and he held her in a viselike grip, breathing in her sweetness. “I need you,” he whispered in a tight voice. “I need you more than life.”

Cheyenne felt him pull her gown upward and she lifted her hips so he could pull it up all the way. Her heart was beating so fast she could hardly catch her breath as his hand slid up her leg, paused, and pulled away.

“This must end before I do something we both regret.”

“Wolf Runner,” she said, looking deeply into his eyes. “I would not regret it.”

“You are young. You do not know the consequences. I would lose my honor; you would lose your virginity.” He started to pull away and she laid her hand on his arm.

“I give it to you freely.” When he paused, her gaze settled on his. “This is what I want.”

Taking her by surprise, he sat her up and unlaced her gown. He pulled it over her head and tossed it aside. “I cannot fight against your willingness and my desire,” he whispered, wondering why he was shaking like a young boy with his first girl.

Although the fire was merely glowing embers he could see her body and he drew in his breath. Her eyes were wide with wonder as he moved his hand over one breast and then the other.

She caught her breath when he dipped his head and took a nipple in his mouth, sucking gently.

“Ohhh,” she whispered. Her body slammed with want and need, and she felt like she was melting inside. “Oh, please.”

All the tortured days and nights when he had wanted her, and now she was almost his. Wolf Runner raised his head and noticed her passion-glazed eyes were blurred by tears.

His warm, firm mouth moved over hers, and she moaned with pleasure and burning need.

Wolf Runner eased her down and hovered above her, his gaze feasting on her loveliness. She was perfect in every way—from her breasts, to her tiny waist, her soft curves. Bending his head, he plundered her lips, reluctant to pull away although he knew he should. He could not get enough of her, and he wanted more—he wanted everything she had to give him.

Slowly his hand began its descent, sweeping across her flat stomach. Going lower, he caressed Cheyenne while she squirmed, her body following his hand.

Cheyenne was surprised and grabbed at his hand when one finger slid into her softness. But her protest did not last long. She could not catch her breath—and she was sure she would never breathe again. But she did—she exhaled when he eased his finger farther into her and began a rhythm that made her body instinctively move in time with it.

She closed her eyes, lost in the beautiful feelings he had awakened. When he withdrew his hand, she started to protest until she saw he was removing his buckskin leggings.

Cheyenne moaned when she felt his naked flesh against hers. Surely this was what man and woman had been created for—she had been created for him.

“I must ask you one thing,” she said in a voice so deep she did not recognize it as her own

He raised his gaze to hers, breathing hard, waiting for her question while all he wanted to do was kiss those tempting lips until she begged for mercy.

“You said you were honor bound to another woman. Would you lose your honor if you made love to me?”

Moving away from her, he let out a long breath, knowing he must speak the truth. “My commitment would be tarnished, my honor in tatters. But even knowing that, I want you.”

Wolf Runner’s words were like a stab to her heart—she was a temptation to him, and he would lose his honor if they continued.

Drawing on all her strength, Cheyenne moved away from him and sat up, grabbing her gown and holding it in front of her, suddenly feeling naked. “Forgive me
for what I have done to you. If I cared about you less, I would urge you to make love to me. You place great value on your honor, and I will not be the one to deprive you of it.”

At the moment Wolf Runner would have thrown his honor to the wind to have this one night with her.

He still watched her.

Pulling her gown over her head and feeling it settle about her ankles, she asked, “Is there no honorable way we can be together?”

“Only one, and you would not like it, Cheyenne. I hesitate to tell you because I promised I would take no other wife,” he said in a pain-filled voice.

“Tell me and let me decide.”

“You could have been my second wife. It is not an unknown custom among my people, but even that is denied me. I swore an oath to her that I would have no other wife but Blue Dawn.”

Cheyenne’s mouth flew open in horror. “It is just as well. I would never have consented to that anyway. Would your mother consent to be a second wife?”

Wolf Runner thought about it for a moment. “No. Most certainly not. My mother would never share my father with another woman. And he would want no one but her.” He rolled to his feet, brushing his hair out of his face, drawing her gaze to his tall, sleek body. He pulled on his leggings and tossed two more logs on the fire, then slipped into his buckskin shirt and moccasins.

“It is but two hours until daylight. I will check on the horses. Gather the supplies so we can leave at first light.”

When he went out the door, Cheyenne’s head fell into her hands and her body shook with the sobs she was trying to suppress.

He had wanted her as much as she wanted him—but she had done the right thing.

Looking at the sky tinted red by the morning sun, Wolf Runner felt shame. He had stirred passion to life in an innocent young woman he should never have touched. He had pulled her close, then pushed her away. Indicated he wanted her, then confessed he could not have her.

If she was hurt and confused it was no wonder.

The last person he would ever want to hurt was Cheyenne. He would keep his distance, keep a tight rein on his feelings, and deliver her safely to her grandfather.

Pouring grain into a pan, he fed the horses, unmindful of the biting cold. He was not proud of his actions.

BOOK: Wolf Runner
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