Free Merline Lovelace by Countess In Buckskin Page A

stand the eerie quiet.
    “Mountain lion,” the American murmured. “They don’t usually hunt at night, but it sounds as though this one just got himself a bighorn sheep.”
    He eased the rifle hammer partway down, still staring into the darkness. “The big cat’s particular in his feed. He prefers warm blood for every meal. I suspect we’ll find the remains of a—”
    He broke off, his jaw dropping as he gaped at Tatiana. She huddled in the middle of the buffalo robe, naked and shaking with fear and cold.
    “Cover yourself,” he snarled. “Now.”
    He turned away. Legs spread, spine stiff, he stood facing the fire.
    Although the frigid air had raised huge goose bumps on her uncovered flesh, Tatiana flushed. His tone left no doubt of his disgust. Had he forgotten his so crude order that she come to his bed bare-skinned and naked? An order he did not see fit to rescind before he calmly announced that he did not want her services, after all?
    Her cheeks burning, she yanked the soft, supple buckskin down around her legs, then pulled on the long-sleeved, fringed.jacket and, finally, the fur cloak. Fully clothed, she sat in the center of the bed. She longed to remain there, to never again move, but she knew she didn’t have that luxury. She had to face the American. Had to understand what it was he wished of her for the rest of this damnable journey.
    Feeling more ancient and gnarled than one of her father’s precious apple trees, Tatiana pushed to the edge of the buffalo robe. The rigid, wide-shouldered man turned at the sound of her approach. She flinched, expecting more censure or insult. He caught the movement, and his face turned ruddy above the golden brown of his beard.
    “I offer you my apologies,” he said, his voice stiff. “I’ve treated you with less than the dignity you should expect from one you’ve asked for aid.”
    Tatiana stared at him, doubt heavy in her mind as she turned his words over. Had she misheard him? Had she missed his meaning?
    At the outright suspicion on her face, Josh’s conscience took another twist of the screw. He didn’t blame her for not balieving his apology was sincere. He’d told her flat out the price she’d have to pay for his escort. All day he’d let her worry about paying it. As a result of his mule-headedness, she’d stripped down and crawled into his bed to await his pleasure like a two-penny whore. Thoroughly and completely disgusted with himself, Josh tried to convince her.
    “Despite what I said this afternoon about the fandango, I never intended to lie with you. Not in the way a man lies with a woman.”
    His conscience suffered another sharp prick. All right! For a few hours, he’d contemplated more than just lying with her. He’d tramped a good many miles thinking about her taste and her feel, and ached with wanting her. Even now, with disgust at his behavior weighing heavy on his conscience, Josh couldn’t completely banish his regret at refusing what she offered.
    His confession didn’t seem to allay her fears. If anything, the suspicion in her face intensified.
    “But in the sweat house you said that you would...that we would...”
    “I was just trying to scare you. To keep you from the mountains.”
    She stared at him for long moments, then a slow flame lit in her eyes and she let loose with a stream of Russian. Josh didn’t have to speak the language to know she was calling him every name a woman could call a man.
    He deserved the tongue-lashing, and stood it without flinching. To take his mind off the sparks flying from her magnificent eyes, Josh tried to decide just how the hell he’d regain her trust. In the days ahead, her survival would depend on the faith she placed in him and his abilities. If she doubted every order or suspected his motives, she could well place herself... and him...in jeopardy.
    “How do I know this is true, what you tell me?” she demanded. “How do I know you will not...you will not...” She spit out another