Free Tender savage by Phoebe Conn

steamboat landing the hesitated a lon^ while before realizing that if she did not go see the Indian, he would probably wait for her outside the store again the next day and the next until she did venture out to the woods to meet him. By that time the whole town would be gossiping about the man and she would be fortunate 'if her name were not included in the same breath. Justifying her actions to herself in this way and convincing herself she was, more eager to avoid drawing such unwarranted attention to their friendship than to continue it. Erica finally chose the path leading north and found the Indian fishing in the exact spot where she had first seen him.
    Viper wound his line around a branch that jutted out over the river and rose to greet Erica when she waved to him. He had told himself repeatedly that she could not p>ossibly be the beauty his memory had stubbornly insisted she was, but as she smiled shyly at him he realized he had been wrong. She was even more lovely than he had recalled. Hct fair curls shone brightly, reflecting the sun's rays like a halo. The angels in the missionary's books had always been blond, pale, pretty creatures he had instantly disliked because they looked nothing like his dark-skinned friends and relatives. Yet here Erica was, looking like a living ray of sunshine, and he could find nothing to dislike about her.
    The Indian's features had lit up with such unabashed delight when he had seen her that Erica felt the warmth of his pleasure wash over her. She was then pained with a sharp stab of guilt for having wasted so much time getting there. She scarcely knew the man, but all she did know about him suddenly made her long to know far more. While it was difficult to understand precisely why she had so litde respect for the danger that knowing him

    presented, she did not hide the fact that she was happy to see him again, too. "If there's no hope I will get your name right in English, may I call you Viper as others do?"
    While he had hoped Erica would run into his arms and cover his face with kisses, the Indian was so pleased to see her he did not complain that she had not shown enough enthusiasm in her greeting. "Viper is all right," hea^eed. "Not as nice as Beloved, but it will do." He stood simply staring at her then, thinking the blue of her eyes far prettier than the summer sky. "Who was that man?" he finally had the presence of mind to ask, and instantly his smile vanished at the thought that he had a rival for her affections.
    Relieved that he had not immediately tried to kiss her. Erica replied with a careless shrug. "His name is Ernst Schramberger. He's a farmer in need of a wife, and unfortunately he has set his sights on me. I have tried to discourage his attentions, honestly I have, but he just doesn't seem to notice I am not thrilled by them."
    "You could tell him you are my woman," Viper offered graciously. "He would stop coming to see you then, wouldn't he?"
    "Oh yes, he most definitely would!" Erica agreed with a sparkling laugh, for she could not even imagine herself saying such an outrageous thing. "But since it isn't true, I'll not use you as an excuse to avoid him."
    Momentarily confused. Viper frowned slightly, then he reached out to take Erica's hand and drew her near. "What do you mean it is not true?" he whispered softly as he lowered his mouth to hers.
    Erica had no time to reply before the Indian's kiss made a hopeless muddle of her thoughts. Again his gentle touch was remarkably soothing, while the feel of his warm, bare back beneath her fingertips provided a heady rush of excitement. His lips caressed hers sweetly, then his tongue slid into her mouth with the easy familiarity of a lover long held dear. The moment she had entered his embrace she had been overcome, as before, with the same reassuring sense of belonging Mark's presence had always created within her. Vijjer was not Mark, however, but a tender savage whose sensual magic enveloped her in a warm blanket of