Tender Taming by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online Page A

Whitney answered. He was rising, and a thickness was catching in her throat. She didn’t want him to leave her. His touch stilled all thoughts of fear and terror. “Wait!” she said impetuously, clutching his hand. He paused and stared down at her with expectant, raised brows. “Don’t go. I mean—” She knew she was blushing furiously and she tossed her head to form a fluffy veil of hair over her telltale features. “I am kicking you out of your bed. You must be horribly uncomfortable on that couch—your feet hang off it! We’re going to be sharing a chickee for a week so we might as well share the comfort of a mattress for the night.” Not daring to look into his eyes for fear of rejection, Whitney gazed with what she hoped was casual nonchalance at his jaw. There was an erratic tic beating in the hollow of his cheek.
    “Are you still frightened?” he demanded tightly.
    Miserably Whitney whispered, “Yes.”
    He gave a funny sigh that sounded like a groan. “Move over,” he muttered irritably, “and I’ll ward off the nocturnal demons. From this side of the bed, at least.”
    Whitney scrambled across the bed, scarcely daring to breathe. She had just asked a stranger to sleep with her. God, what was happening to her? But he didn’t seem like a stranger; in the short time since they had met, she had come to feel that everything in her life before this evening had been inconsequential. She couldn’t imagine anymore not having known him.
    Hearing the rise and fall of his breathing, she wondered if he slept. He had been so kind when she screamed, tender even. But when she asked him to stay, he had been irritated, brusque. Unbidden tears suddenly formed in her eyes. Oh well, what had she expected? She had burst upon his evening and showered him with mud, then disturbed his sleep. And, however grudgingly, he had complied with her request and now lay beside her so that she might get some rest. She would lie very quietly, not even move. She would not waken him again.
    But White Eagle wasn’t sleeping. He lay awake tensely, his body groaning in protest. Damn! Didn’t she know what she was asking of him? His fingers ached to reach out and touch her; his nostrils were filled with her clean, fragrant scent. Every nerve in his body cried out.
    Long after she had fallen back to sleep, Eagle still lay awake. He turned on his side to watch her. The rich splay of her hair was spread in wild disarray over the bedding. Her lips were curled in a small, sweet smile. Who was this lovely enchantress, he wondered whimsically, not trusting her gentle countenance. Only time would tell.
    She stirred in her sleep and inched closer to him, her small frame curving perfectly against his large one as she unconsciously sought his warmth. Eagle groaned aloud softly. Sighing, he slipped an arm around her and his hand fit over her midriff, just below the soft swelling of her breasts. She nuzzled comfortably in his hold, naturally, as if they had lain together hundreds of times before.
    With the warmth of her body radiating through him, White Eagle finally slept. His dreams, too, were of a turbulent nature. The times were long ago, and he was able to follow his natural instincts. And when he found his beautiful witch, he simply made her his and rode away with her into the sunset.
    The thought was still with him when he woke to the dawn, and he grinned at himself with wry humor. Wasn’t that really what he was trying to do?

CHAPTER THREE
    T HE BRIGHT HEAT OF the sun streaming in through the open window brought Whitney slowly out of a deep and pleasant sleep. For several minutes she lay in the groggy, relaxed state that was between unconsciousness and full awareness; then as she recalled where she was and the events of the previous night, she opened her eyes with alarm and quickly scanned the room for White Eagle.
    He was nowhere to be seen, but her overnight bag and suitcase were sitting at the foot of the bed. Sometime that morning he had