Текст книги "Wild Silver "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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She had to think, to seek out a weakness in Savron. She

was silent, her mind leaping from one possibility to another.

„What promise did you give Mikhail Kuzdief?“

She felt him stiffen beside her. „Do you actually expect me

to tell you?“

„Why not? I’m only a woman.“

He chuckled. „That bit of irony would have done justice to

Marc Antony at Caesar’s funeral.“

„Well?“

His gaze searched her face. It would be unwise to tell her,

yet he knew abruptly that he was going to do so. She was as

valiant as the warrior Mikhail had called her and they had

stripped her of every weapon. Giving her back one small

assurance would surely do no harm. „I promised him I would

never take you against your will.“

„I see.“ She tried to keep her voice emotionless, to hide the

tingle of excitement his words had ignited within her. „It was

very kind of him to care. I owe him a debt.“

„Mikhail has a gentle heart.“ His lips twisted. „He’s

completely unlike myself in that respect.“

„I agree.“ She turned briskly toward the stateroom. „Can

you summon him from your cabin?“

He nodded. „There’s a bell pull beside the bed.“

„Then send for him. I’m very good with healing.

Sometimes a minor cut can be very dangerous if a bit of cloth

or dirt gets into the wound.“

„You’re suddenly very solicitous,“ Nicholas said dryly. „It

couldn’t be that you think you can persuade him to help you?“

She looked at him in surprise. „No, he told me he was loyal

to you. I know he would not betray you.“

„Then why do you want to bind up his wounds and soothe

his fevered brow?“

„He is a good man,“ she said simply. „And I owe him a

debt. I always pay my debts. Besides, it was not his fault he

felt bound to help you any more than it was mine that I had to

defend myself. Until there is reason for us to fight again, we

can be friends.“

He gazed at her blankly. There was no doubt of her

sincerity. At that moment she had the clear simplicity of a

small child. „You hold no grudge?“

„Not against him.“ She strode past him toward the

stateroom. „Only against you, your highness.“ Her tone was

coolly mocking. „I most definitely hold a grudge against you.“

„Don’t you think formality is rather absurd considering the

intimacy of our circumstances? My name is Nicholas.“

She glanced at him over her shoulder. „I think perhaps

you’re right. In one way or another we shall be more intimate

than you dream, Nicholas.“

She opened the door and entered the stateroom without

another backward glance.

„You must change the bandage morning and night until the

wound forms a scab.“ Silver’s brow furrowed in concentration.

„It seems clean, but I’ve seen lesser wounds than this fester

and cause a fever.“

Mikhail nodded as he stood up, his brawny muscles

rippling in the lamplight as he reached for his tunic on the

table beside him. „I, too.“ He pulled the tunic over his head.

„Remember Boris Kravitz, Nicholas? One week hale and

hearty with a tiny cut on his thumb.“ He drew his index finger

across his throat. „The next week we were measuring him for

a coffin.“

„I remember.“ Nicholas’s tone was abstracted, his gaze

fastened on Silver. „You were telling the truth; you do know a

great deal about caring for wounds.“

„I should. Except for four months a year, when Rising Star

insisted I come to Killara for schooling, I spent my entire

childhood in an Apache village.“ Her lips twisted. „There was

much opportunity to learn about healing battle wounds.“

„Rising Star?“

„My aunt who married Joshua Delaney.“ Her lashes

suddenly lowered to veil her eyes. „She died in childbirth four

years ago.“ She turned back to Mikhail. „I have no salve to

give you for the cut. If you’d allowed me to pack a

portmanteau instead of snatching me away with nothing but a

cloak, I could have brought my medicine and herb box.“

He shook his head, his eyes twinkling. „You gave me

enough trouble without stopping to fetch luggage. Perhaps

next time – “

Silver’s smile lit her face with warmth as she held up her

hand to stop the flow of words. „Next time I’ll do the

snatching, Mikhail Kuzdief.“

Mikhail burst out laughing. „Only if you put on two

hundred pounds and grow two feet taller, little one.“

Jealousy. My God, I am actually jealous of Mikhail,

Nicholas thought with amazement as he gazed at Silver

Delaney s glowing face. She had not smiled for him. It was

Mikhail who had caused that sudden sunburst of radiance that

made him realize yet again what a magnificently beautiful

woman Silver Delaney was. Before, he had been conscious

only of her stormy sensuality, now he knew she possessed an

attraction infinitely more complex. He found his nails digging

into the palms of his hands as his fists clenched, and he

consciously forced himself to relax.

But it should have been him, dammit. She shouid have

smiled first at him.

„My aunt was fond of telling me a tale from the Bible

about a giant named Goliath and a boy named David.“ Silver’s

eyes danced. „I immediately went out and began practicing

with a slingshot. I became very good at it.“

Mikhail chuckled. „Better than with your little knife?“

She tilted her head as if to consider. „Well, the – “

„If you’ve finished, perhaps Mikhail should go to bed,“

Nicholas interrupted. „We wouldn’t want him to become

overtired.“

Mikhail looked at him in surprise. „I am not – “ He stopped

and then nodded in comprehension. „I will go to bed.“ He

glanced at Silver. „Thank you for bandaging my wound, little

one. Do not worry. No harm will come to you.“

„I know,“ Silver said calmly. „Sleep well, Mikhail.“

When the door closed behind the Cossack, Silver turned to

Nicholas. „I’m tired. I also wish to go to bed. Where do you

want me to sleep?“

There was no smile, no hint of provocation; her expression

was coolly matter-of-fact. He gestured toward the bed. „Did

you expect any other answer?“

„No.“ She took off the waist-length jacket and began

unbuttoning her high-necked white blouse. „It doesn’t matter

to me where I sleep, though perhaps it will to you.“

His gaze clung compulsively to her rapidly moving fingers

unfastening her shirtwaist. „No perhaps about it.“ He sat down

in the chair Mikhail had just vacated and stretched out his legs

before him, crossing them at the ankles. „It’s of the utmost

importance to me. I’ve thought of little else since I left you

this afternoon.“

„That seems a long time ago.“ She took off the rumpled

white blouse and tossed it carelessly on the padded velvet

bench at the foot of the bed. She heard a soft sound as if

Nicholas had drawn a deep breath, but she didn’t look at him.

She had not thought this would be so difficult. Her hands must

not tremble, she must show no signs of the turbulence she was

feeling or she would be lost. Nicholas was a man accustomed

to reading women and would leap on any hint of weakness. If

she was to defeat him, she must show him nothing but

indifference. She sat down and briskly unbuttoned her ankle-

high boots and pulled them off.

„Would you like any help?“

He had asked his question in a voice that was hoarse, she

noticed with satisfaction. He was hurting. „No.“ She set the

shoes neatly together beneath the bench and stood up to begin

untying the white silk ribbons of her camisole. „I am not a

child who cannot unbutton her shoes. Why should you help?“

„Because I want my hands on you.“

„Are you disturbed?“ she asked coolly, still not looking at

him. „I wonder why?“

„My God, you’re bold. How many other men have you

undressed in front of like this?“

She didn’t answer as she slipped the strap of her camisole

off one golden shoulder.

„How many, dammit?“

„I don’t see what difference it makes. How many do you

suppose?“

She heard a muttered curse as she pushed the other strap off

her shoulder. The thin muslin slipped down until it barely

crested her upper breasts, only their roundness keeping the

garment from falling to fully reveal the lush bounty outlined

beneath the material. Her fingers mustn’t shake. It merely took

strength of will, she reminded herself. She glanced around the

room to avoid looking at him. Her eyes widened as they

encountered the murals on the walls and her gaze swung back

to Nicholas in surprise. She immediately regretted the lapse.

Nicholas’s broad cheeks were flushed, his lips thickly

sensual, his dark eyes fastened on her with an intensity that

caused an odd current of heat to flow through her. She

hurriedly looked away. „What… interesting murals you have.

Exactly what I would have expected of you.“

„You’re not shocked?“ His voice was suddenly rough.

„One would almost think you’re accustomed to the

accoutrements of a bordello.“

She shook her head as she unfastened her skirt. „I’ve only

been in one bordello, and there were no pictures like this.“

„Only one?“ He laughed harshly. „At the advanced age of

nineteen? Pray, what have you been doing with your time?

May I ask whether you were purchasing or selling?“

It seemed she had struck pay dirt. Something she had said

was evidently annoying him exceedingly. „Neither. Though

Rina did once ask me if I wanted a job.“

„Rina?“

„Rina Bradshaw.“ She took off her blue skirt, draped it

over the bench, and stood garbed only in the camisole and her

petticoats. „She runs a whorehouse in Hell’s Bluff.“

„You must have impressed her. Will you take off that

goddam camisole?“

„You wish to see my breasts?“ She shrugged. „Very well. I

don’t understand why white men become so excited when a

woman takes off her clothes. Indians are much more sensible.

They accept a naked body as a part of nature.“

She took off the camisole, revealing a glimpse of full,

heavy breasts crowned by pink areolas for only a tenth of a

second before she turned her back on him to lay the camisole

with the other garments on the bench. „Indian children run

naked unless the weather becomes cold.“ She quickly finished

disrobing. „Yet white children and even women are forced to

wear layers and layers of clothing and become smothered with

– “

„Turn around.“

She could feel the muscles of her spine stiffen with tension

and she forced herself to relax. Now she must face him and he

must see no weakness. She slowly turned and unconsciously

lifted her chin. „Yes?“

Nicholas hadn’t thought he could become more aroused,

but he now realized how mistaken he had been. The muscles

of his stomach twisted and he could feel his manhood thrust

against the material of his trousers as his gaze moved over her.

Why had he sat there in a torment of lust while she teased him

to this unbearable pitch? She had challenged him with her

body and those damn cool words that incited anger and desire

and jealousy until he thought he would go mad.

„Enough?“ she asked, lifting one winged brow. „I’m

getting chilly.“

„No, not enough.“ He wasn’t sure at that moment that he’d

ever get enough of looking at her. Lord, she was beautiful.

Golden rose-tipped breasts flowing to a narrow waist and then

to sweetly curving hips and 6rm buttocks. Shining ebony hair

streamed straight and silky to the middle of her back, and her

eyes were brilliantly alive, challenging his mind almost as

much as his body.

His gaze traveled down to linger on the soft thatch of hair

protecting her womanhood. The palms of his hands on the

arms of the chair began to tingle as he thought of rubbing them

against that soft nest and then parting her thighs and – „Come

here.“

„Why?“

He looked up impatiently. „My dear Silver, the reason

couldn’t be more obvious.“ He glanced down at his lower

body and made a face. „Oh, yes, very obvious.“

„Why?“ she repeated.

A muscle jerked in his cheek. „To consummate the fire

you’ve built so skillfully. I want to touch you.“

„But you can’t touch me.“ Her gray eyes met his with

absolutely no expression. „That wasn’t what I intended at all.“

His gaze narrowed on her face. „And just what did you

intend?“

„I wanted you to hurt.“ Her voice was suddenly fierce. „I

wanted you to want me as men always want women and not be

able to touch me.“

„The hell I won’t!“ His eyes were blazing with fury. „I’m

going to – “ He stopped. His promise to Mikhail. Dammit to

hell, his promise to Mikhail!

She nodded slowly, the faintest smile touching her lips.

„You will not do it because you promised your friend you

would not. You value your friend, and I think you’re a man

who also values your word. You were very foolish to tell me of

your promise.“

„You little she-cat,“ he said through clenche,d teeth. „I told

you that to make you feel more secure. I didn’t want you

frightened of me.“

„I wasn’t frightened.“ Her eyes blazed back at him. „I was

angry. You forced me to come here against my will. Did you

care that I have my own life to live? There are things I must

do. The circus is leaving soon and I – “

He stiffened. „How unfortunate that you’ll have to live

without the embrace of your lover.“

„My lover?“ She shrugged impatiently. „All you can think

of is…“ Her gaze moved significantly down his body and

rested with satisfaction on the hard column outlined beneath

his tight trousers. „But that’s what I want you to think of

tonight and every night we are together.“ She whirled on her

heel, her hair flying wildly about her silken nudity, and

crossed the few paces to the bed. She brushed the sheer batiste

bed curtains aside, jerked the peach-colored spread down, and

slipped into bed. She glared at him across the room. „I told

you I would punish you.“

He could feel the fury surging through him, blinding, hot,

breathtaking. Anger almost as intense as the desire that was a

jagged torment in his body. He slowly stood up and moved

deliberately across the room. „What a vengeful little bitch you

are,“ he said softly. „I thought I had learned all the wicked

little tricks a woman could find to torture a man. I was

wrong.“ He stood over her, his gaze meeting her own. „I

supposed I should have expected that you would be especially

well versed in such arts. I’ve heard that savages were skillful

in the ways of torture.“

She flinched. „We are, but we acquired most of our

knowledge from the white man. We never flaunted killing until

they taught us how to scalp and count coup. How many scalps

have you hung at your belt, Nicholas?“

„I’ve never counted.“ His hand suddenly tangled in her hair

and jerked her head back. „But I believe I’m about to start.“

She stared back at him fearlessly. „No, you won’t. You’re

like most men who have honor toward men and not toward

women. You won’t break your promise.“

He gazed down at her for a long moment, his chest moving

harshly with the force of his breathing. Then, slowly, finger by

finger, he, released her hair. He straightened, moving jerkily,

as if his every muscle was atrophied by age. He closed his

eyes. „No, I’ll not break my promise, damn you!“

His hair was tousled gold in the lamplight, his nostrils

flaring with each breath, his bronze skin pulled tight over the

broad bones of his cheeks. She had a fleeting memory of the

first moment she had seen him, when she had thought he

looked like a sensual Apollo, that resemblance was even more

pronounced now. He was a deity burning, Apollo in a fever of

passion. A woman would have had to be made of ice not to be

stirred by Nicholas Savron in that moment. Ice, Silver prayed

desperately. She must be ice.

His eyes flicked open and he smiled down at her. Surprise

rippled through her. His smile was almost… loving. „A

challenge?“ His voice was velvet soft.

„No!“ she protested.

„I think you lie. Silver.“ One finger gently touched her

cheek. „I think you’re a woman who must always have a

challenge. Well, I intend to accommodate you. I won’t force

you. I won’t even touch you without your permission.“ His

finger trailed lazily down her cheek to the corner of her mouth.

„Until you ask me to sheath myself in you and give you what

you want,“ I won t –

„You will.“ His lids half veiled the gleaming darkness of

his eyes. „Because you didn’t count on one thing. Your body.

That very lovely body that wants me just as much as I want it.

I knew the first moment I saw you that you were a very

sensual lady. If I’m in pain, then you’ll be in pain too.“ His

finger slid down to the hollow of her throat. His smile

deepened as he felt the sudden leap of her heart. „You see?“

„I see nothing.“ In spite of her effort, the words held a

slight quaver.

His hand dropped away from her throat. „And to think I

believed you were an honest woman,“ he said mockingly. He

turned and strolled to the door he had told her led to the grand

saloon. He paused with a hand on the doorknob to look back at

her. „And I have one other advantage not available to you.

There are any number of women on this boat who will allow

me the relief you deny me, and I have no intention of allowing

you to receive a similiar satisfaction from any other man. If

you burn, you must appeal to me for relief.“ He gazed at her a

moment longer, his expression a mixture of desire, anger, and

pain. Then he was gone and she heard the door lock behind

him.

The room was suddenly larger, less threatening, yet…

empty. Silver drew a deep, quivering breath, her taut muscles

wilting like wildflowers at the fir^st frost. She was shaking,

she realized, surprised and indignant at her body’s betrayal.

There was no reason for her to respond in this fashion.

Nicholas was only a man, and she had been the victor in this

encounter. This sudden weakness must be due to the strain of

the evening. After she had rested she would be better able to

face the challenge Nicholas offered.

Challenge. It had been he, not she, who had issued the

challenge. It had been ridiculous of him to claim anything else.

She had wanted only to punish him for doing this to her. No

one should be allowed to victimize another human being, and

he had victimized both Etaine and herself. It made no

difference that he knew nothing about the child. Nicholas

Savron’s arrogance was intolerable and she had punished him.

Why did it leave her feeling so lackluster and drained?

She would think no more of him, she decided. She would

sleep and gain strength for the struggles to come. She sat up,

drew back the filmy bed curtain, and blew out the flame in the

oil lamp on the bedside table. Darkness. Sudden,

overpowering darkness that smothered and took her breath.

She was excruciatingly aware of the closeness of the room, of

the locked door holding her captive. She found herself panting,

her heart pounding wildly, she was smothering with the sense

of her own helplessness.

Etaine. Was this how Etaine felt when she was attacked by

that horrible breathlessness? Dear God, how could the child

bear it so patiently? Etaine was a prisoner in so many ways, a

prisoner of her illness, a prisoner of the cage, a prisoner of her

monster of a father. In her place Silver would have gone mad

or broken herself fighting against the bars of her helplessness

trying to escape. Yet how much longer could Etaine withstand

the kind of treatment she was receiving? She must be freed,

and to do that Silver must free herself.

She suddenly leaned forward, her hand fumbling in the

darkness until the lamp was once again lit. That was better. At

least the light banished the smothering sensation. She lay

down again, drawing the muslin sheet up to her throat and

turning on her side to gaze at the oil lamp on the nightstand a

few feet away. Seen through the sheer batiste of the bed

curtain, the flickering flame appeared like a golden chimera,

she thought absently. Would Nicholas return tonight? Probably

not. He had told her he would seek out another woman, so she

doubted she would see him before morning.

She was glad, relieved, she told herself. This time alone

would allow her to think of Etaine and recover her strength of

purpose.

Silver was asleep.

Her golden cheek was cradled on the softness of the white

muslin of the pillow, her dark lashes forming feathery shadows

on the beautiful line of her high cheekbones. She slept deeply,

like a child exhausted from a day at play.

Nicholas stood in the doorway, his hand clenched on the

china doorknob, his gaze on the sleeping woman in bed.

Dammit, it wasn’t fair for her to look so innocently vulnerable.

This was the woman who had stabbed Mikhail with her

dagger, who had taunted him with her body, who had

confessed to frequenting whorehouses. Why was there no sign

of dissipation or corruption on her face?

He softly closed the door and crossed the room to stand

beside the bed. The clean line of her cheek possessed an air of

purity in the mellow pool of light radiating from the oil lamp

on the nightstand. As he watched, her rose-pink lips parted and

she sighed, her cheek moving restlessly on the pillow as if

fierce wariness still held her in thrall. How deeply must that

wariness be embedded to erect barriers even while she slept.

God, no child should feel such a strong need to protect herself,

he thought with a strange tightness constricting his chest.

Child. He had not thought of her as a child before this. In

spite of her youth, she had seemed as totally adult and

womanly as any Eve or Delilah. While she was awake he had

seen only the strength and the fire of her. Hell and damnation,

that was all he wanted to see. He didn’t want to think of her as

a child growing up torn between Indian and white and yet

wanted by neither. He didn’t want to remember how painful it

was being uprooted from the land you loved and sent to live

among strangers. All he wanted was to lie down beside her in

this bed and lose himself in her body. It was passion not

tenderness he wanted from Silver. Yet he couldn’t deny it was

tenderness he was feeling for her now. Aching poignant

tenderness that was almost unbearable in its intensity.

Unexplain-able, frustrating tenderness. His hand impulsively

reached out to touch the flowing richness of her hair.

Then he stopped, his hand dropping to his side. His wish

not to wake her was as unexplainable as the gentleness

coursing through his veins. He had come here tonight to begin

the first foray in the battle to which she had challenged him. In

the past hours he had indulged himself with two bottles of

wine and the cloying attention of several voluptuous women.

The wine had only made him morose and the women had no

effect upon him whatever. It was Silver Delaney he wanted

and Silver Delaney he would have.

But he knew now he would not have Silver Delaney

tonight.

He turned down the wick of the crystal-prismed oil lamp,

blew out the small lingering flame, and moved toward the door

in darkness. His Cossack training told him he was a fool to let

an enemy rest and gain strength, and his body told him he was

worse than a fool not to appease the lust besetting it. He

smiled crookedly as his hand clpsed on the knob of the door.

Oh, well, it was said that the angels had a special blessing for

fools and madmen, and God knew, he had need of all the help

he could get from that elite circle. He would search out an

empty stateroom and lie chastely in its bed, planning his

campaign against the dubious virtue of Silver Delaney.

The thought of chastity in connection with himself caused

his smile to become a chuckle of genuine amusement as he

quietly slipped out of the stateroom and locked the door

behind him.