Tender savage by Phoebe Conn Read Free Book Online Page A

thank you, and that's all that matters." Erica assured him with a nervous smile. He had discarded his shirt, and the sight of the cougar claw necklace lying upon his bare skin was still a most unsettling one. "My uncle said you're called Viper, is that right?"
    The Indian stepped close enough to place his hand upon the tree at her back, and caressed her right cheek with his thumb as he replied in a husky whisf)er. "No, but it is as close as a white man can come to saying my name."
    Erica found the directness of the man's ^aze most unsetding. He didn't look at her as Ernst did: almost drooling, but the silver light in his gray eyes was nevertheless much too intense. With the tree at her back and him standing so near, she didn't see how she could avoid such close scrutiny, thoug[h. His touch was, as before, very light, but far too familiar. When she tried to brush his hand away he simply caue;ht hers in a firm grasp and held it. "Please," she whispered, "I wanted only to tell you thank you for finding the letter, and if you are return-mg home to wish you a safe trip."
    Her lashes were so long anci thick they provided the perfect frame for her deep blue eyes. But he had not meant to fill them with fright. He kept her hand in his as he said, "You had your letter. You did not have to chase after me just to say thank you."
    "Well, no, perhaps not, but—" As Erica looked up at him she suddenly recalled how the water had drippea off the sleek planes of his well-muscled body as he had left the river, and she found herself at a loss for words. She was still having difficulty catching her breath, but it wasn't

    because she had been running so hard. She clutched Mark's letter tightly in her free hand, frantically trying to recall how handsome a man he, too, was, but his face wouldn't come clear in her mind. It wavered and danced on the fringe of her memory, refusing, just as he had, to become a part of her.
    "Are you a virgin?" the Indian asked perceptively, thinking perhaps inexperience was causing her fright. She had come running after him, so clearly she liked him, but maybe she was too young to know what to do about it.
    The impertinence of that question jolted Erica to anger so swiftly that she found it a simple matter to reply. "That is none of your damn business. Viper, or whatever it is you like to be calledl"
    The Indian thought again how much he liked her spirit and suggested another name. "You may call me Beloved, if you like."
    "Belovedl" Erica nearly shrieked. The man was devilishly handsome, but obviously a rake through and through, and she yanked her hand from his. "I have never before met an Indian brave, but believe me, you have made me sincerely sorry I ever met you!" Again taking the precaution of lifting the front of her skirt, she shoved past him and dashed back down the trail with the same careless haste that had caused him to mistake her for a badly frightened deer. She was dressed in a yellow gown that shimmered in the sunshine, and suddenly he feared a hunter who lacked his cool head and sharp eyes might also mistake her for a deer moving between the trees and shoot her. Tossing his gear aside, he tore down the trail after her.
    The Indian called her name in so frantic a shout that Erica turned back to face him. Her cheeks were still burning with shame, for she knew she had deserved that question about her virtue, since no respectable young woman would be tramping through the forest looking for a man who wore more feathers than clothes. That she was stiU a vfrgin through no fault of her own caused her an even more excruciating type of embarrassment.
    "What is it now?" she demanded rudely.
    The Indian was so thoroughly confused by the blond woman's hostility that he shouted right back at her. "You should not be walking alone so far from town."

    "I'm not walking, I'm runningl" Erica pointed out, but as she turned back toward the trail he reached out to stop her.
    "Wait, I will go with you to see you reach home