Free White Flame by Susan Edwards Page B

well though she was no match for his strength.
    “Let me go,” she begged, her voice raw and gritty, her face inches from his.
    “No.”
    Her eyes, their color eclipsed by his shadow, glittered with tears. Her body trembled beneath his and with a shock of awareness, he realized they were flesh to flesh. Her breasts, bared by her torn clothing, were pressed against his chest.
    Lifting his upper body without releasing her wrists, Striking Thunder stared down at the generous swells revealed by the torn bodice of her dress. His blood surged with the urge to palm that supple flesh, to bask in the feel of her. Desire, hot and thick as honey, flooded his veins and he felt his organ stir and harden in response to her womanly softness.
    Her beauty, her spirit, summoned something deep inside him, releasing a hunger he’d never known existed, not even with Meadowlark. His lips parted, tempted to bend down and capture one of those beckoning pale buds and suckle until she cried out with pleasure and her body writhed beneath his with the same hot need that raced through his veins.
    He fought for control, for command of his emotions. From boyhood, his every action and thought had been carefully planned. The quest to become the great warrior his grandmother had foreseen ruled his every waking moment. Even marriage, when he’d been told to take a wife, had been dealt with in the same methodical manner. He allowed nothing to interfere with his duty—not even his own needs and desires. But this woman threatened that and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. Too much was at stake.
    “You pr-promised to take me to the fort.”
    Her fear-laced words jarred him. It took a long moment for him to absorb the full meaning of her words. “Tuwakaksa!” Impossible! He released her hands. Immediately, she covered her nakedness but his desire had already fled as his plan for revenge crashed down upon his shoulders for the second time that night.
    Unfortunately, she spoke the truth. He had given his word to return her to the fort. And though it had been before he’d learned that the colonel was her father, he was honor-bound to keep his promise. Biting back an oath, Striking Thunder stared up into patches of star-studded sky, seeking answers, for he could not release her. Without revenge, the sweet innocent spirit ofhis young wife would roam forever, caught between the two worlds. Yet by his own words, killing Emma to set Meadowlark’s spirit free was not possible.
    He’d have to kill the colonel and captain. To do so would take much planning and thought. A sharp breeze swept across his bare back, signaling summer’s retreat and winter’s approach. Time was short, for once the snows fell, he’d be forced to wait until spring for his revenge.
    Time, the spirit of the winds whispered in his ear. Time. Striking Thunder held himself still and listened. Could time be his ally? The colonel would soon discover Yellow Dog’s ambush of his soldiers and daughters’ capture. At first, the soldiers would concentrate their search among the Arikara tribes. That afforded him and the council plenty of time to formulate their plans. When spring arrived, his people would be ready. That settled, his only problem lay with the woman. What to do with her? Honor demanded that he keep his word. He studied her, pretending to himself that he felt no relief at not having to kill her.
    The distant howling of a wolf pack drifted on the night breeze. The wolf was smart, shrewd and wily. Closing his eyes, Striking Thunder asked for the spirit of the wolf to advise him. Seconds later, the corner of his mouth twitched.
    He’d never said when he would return her to the fort, nor had he promised to return her to her father, which left him free to keep her captive for the winter, use her as bait to lure her father and captain into his trap. Only then would he release her to the soldiers at the fort. In the meantime, he was honor-bound to keep her safe and unharmed. Pleased with