Free Gray Hawk's Lady: Blackfoot Warriors, Book 1 by Karen Kay Page B

“There is no need to seek revenge upon me. As soon as my father is finished, I will return you to your people. I give you my word of honor on it.”
    The Indian sneered. “White woman of no honor expects me to believe her when lies roll easily off her tongue—”
    “Nonsense! When have I ever…?” She didn’t finish the sentence. Gray Hawk turned his back to her, presenting her with a clear view of his backside, of his tight buttocks. And Genevieve couldn’t help but look. “I…” She retreated toward the door. “I am sorry that I disturbed you. It’s only that I—”
    He looked back at her just then over his shoulder, a smiling jeer accompanying that glance. That he had caught her scrutinizing him did not bear critical thought on her part.
    With a gasp she spun away from him, presenting him with her own posterior view, though hers was thankfully clothed. She reached for the door, and, jerking it open, she fled out into the relative safety of the corridor.
    Someday, she thought to herself, I will have to stop ending our conversations by running away.
    Still, even as she thought it, she rushed back to her own quarters, not pausing to look at anyone, nor to talk with anyone along the way. And she quite convinced herself it was better this way.
     
     
    The young man who called himself Gray Hawk watched the white woman from over his shoulder. And despite himself, he continued to observe her until she disappeared through the door of the big medicine canoe. He jerked his head to the left, his only expression of emotion.
    Ha’ !He was disgusted with himself—with her. He hated her, this female enemy, which made the reactions of his body all the more unwelcome. Truth be, though he had taunted her with the image of his nudity, he was amazed that he reacted to her the way he did.
    He thought back to that first night of his capture. From the moment she had stepped into his presence that night, he’d not been able to believe what he saw.
    Shock. Yes, that was what he’d felt.
    And with reason. He’d been prepared to hate the person responsible for his capture, for the manner and cruelty with which he had been taken. He’d been alone, of course. Alone, and close to the medicine canoe. Otherwise, he would have been able to overwhelm his enemy, no matter that they had struck him from behind. But never had he dreamed at the time that his enemy would be the white woman…at first.
    Truthfully, he’d been attracted to her at the fort, admiring her persistence, her beauty, her courage in the face of his peers, who had laughed at her. Certainly, like the other members of his tribe, he knew what she asked, knew that she was seeking to take one from among them back to a place she called St. Louis. And though, like the others, he’d known that what she asked was outrageous, a thing no one from the Blackfoot tribe would do, her quiet persistence had gained his admiration.
    If his tribe had not been at peace with the white traders at this fort, Gray Hawk might very well have stolen her, perhaps to make her one of his wives…perhaps not.
    But his tribe was at peace with these particular white people, and Gray Hawk could think of no way to take her away and still keep that peace.
    Yes, he had admired her, though after that first momentary shock of seeing her, Gray Hawk had realized his error in doing so. This person, this woman whom he had come to admire, did not deserve such respect.
    Where he had endowed her with a quiet strength, now he had learned that she was weak, giving in to demands of the flesh. Where she had, at first, looked sweet, virginal, he’d now come to understand that she was experienced—a temptress.
    He’d gazed at her then, as she’d stood there before him, and he’d understood that this was the woman the kidnappers had spoken of; this was the woman those men had been joking about, saying it was she who had demanded that the Indian be beaten and then stripped, telling him in lurid language what she