Read Night Thunder's Bride: Blackfoot Warriors, Book 3 for Free Online Page B

which to sleep?”
    “Aye.”
    Another chuckle. “Isn’t is enough that the white man hides his body from Sun during the day? Does he also cower from Old Woman, the moon, at night?”
    “Cowering has nothing to do with it. It would be only proper, I’m thinking, that since I am also within this lodge, you would sleep with some sort of clothing to cover yourself.”
    He gave her a low grunt that sounded more like disdain than acknowledgement. He said, “Sleeping in clothing is not something that I have known any of the men in our tribe to do. Why would you expect it of me?”
    “Out of deference to me. Out of modesty.”
    “Humph!” She felt him scoot further under the sleeping robe. Scowling, she at last felt safe in turning her head toward him, and as she glanced at him, he gave her a lopsided grin. He said, “Sleep you in your clothes?”
    “Of course.”
    “Do you not realize that they might smell bad and will look bad when you arise? Do you care?”
    “Of course I care. But I couldn’t take them off…not here with you. I wouldn’t…I only have this one dress to wear, now.”
    “Then do you not think you should take better care of it?”
    She drew in a shocked breath. “I would not sleep unclothed.”
    He turned over onto his back, a smile upon his face. “That is your choice, then.” He paused for a moment while he appeared to be thinking. After a time he said, “I would rather save my dignity for when I am around the others. What does it matter, after all? We are not sleeping within the same robes.”
    “Am I not here right now?”
    He chuckled before he sat up, and throwing the robe off, stood to his feet. “Come, it is time to arise. The others have prepared a feast for us. Ceremony and dignity are a great part of the customs of my people. It would not be right if we do not join them and appreciate all they have done for us.”
    Rebecca knew she shouldn’t be looking at him. She knew it was a sinful thing to do. Yet she couldn’t help herself. How could she ignore all that hard flesh and masculinity? Especially when it was the sort of thing she had never had the chance to glimpse?
    Well, she couldn’t.
    Not when the way he stood emphasized the strength of his legs, she realized, as her gaze roamed upward toward his thighs. The powerful muscles she spied there seemed to accentuate his buttocks, and how male he looked in front…
    She inwardly groaned at what she was doing, what she was seeing, at that part of his body she was now scrutinizing. But she didn’t glance away.
    He reached down to pick up an article of clothing and her gaze followed him. His hands were brown, she noted, firm and strong, although his skin appeared to be smooth rather than rough-edged. His fingers were long, his nails seemingly white against the darker shade of his skin. Without being able to stop herself, she remembered how those hands had felt against her last night as they had massaged her, his touch soothing her, sending her to sleep.
    But she certainly wasn’t feeling sleepy now.
    He drew on his breechcloth and she knew that this action should have ended her perusal of his body. It didn’t, however.
    He stood before her, handsome beyond belief, and her gaze went to his bare chest…his well-muscled and powerful bare chest… She wondered what those muscles would feel like beneath her touch, what would be the texture of his skin? Hard and tough, or soft? She felt her fingers itch, as though if she didn’t control them, they would reach out and discover all that luxury themselves.
    She did control herself nonetheless, and she drew her hands together in front of her, almost wishing they were tied.
    She wasn’t finished with her inspection, however.
    Long, straight black hair fell down over his shoulders almost to his waist, reminding her that this was no civilized man. The top of it was tied back with a strip of buckskin which gave him an incredibly handsome appeal. His face had been browned by the sun, his lips