Read Through the Fire (The Native American Warrior Series) for Free Online

intriguing blend of water, sky, and the fairest blossoms. Her smooth brow was finely carved, as were her nose and cheeks, and fit perfectly with her full, but not too full, mouth, blushed like a rosy sunset. Her sweetly curved chin wholly balanced her other features. Even in her fear it had a stubborn tilt and a dimple.
    His manhood swelled hotly. He was more undone in that instant than if he ’d faced the most cunning warrior. And it occurred to him, rather strongly, that he’d far rather do battle with a stealthy foe than his own heart.
    Seemingly unaware of the debilitating effect she had on him, Rebecca stuttered, “What serpent was that?”
    “ Shebinsee manetoh , rattlesnake,” he said, dragging his stare away from her. Seizing the tomahawk, he wiped the soiled blade on a patch of grass.
    He couldn ’t keep his eyes from following as she got unsteadily to her feet. The damp shift clung to every curve. She was slender and taller than average for a woman, though still a head, or more, shorter than he and would fit nicely against him, he thought, hating that he did.
    She pushed that wealth of hair back over the inviting smoothness of partly bared shoulders. He swept his rapt gaze over the creamy mounds swelling up out of her bodice. A red haze of anger and need clouded his mind.
    Her eyes scoured the dense foliage. “Are many of these dreadful creatures about?”
    “ We must watch.”
    “ Oh my. What if it had bitten me?”
    Were there no venomous snakes in England? He slung the tomahawk at his back beneath his belt and regarded her sternly. “Its fangs have much poison. One bite from a serpent of this size and you would die slowly in great pain. Unless I found you, gave you medicine. Do you wish for this death?”
    She shook her head, appearing far more subdued than the woman who had dared to challenge him last evening.
    “Other dangers lie in the wilderness, the wolf, bear, devil cat,” he added pointedly. “You cannot be certain what, or who, follows you.”
    “ What a fearful land.”
    “ You know nothing of this land. You forget I said not to run from me?”
    Eyes downcast, she whispered, “No.”
    “ Where is your gown? Did thorns tear the cloth from you?” he demanded, wanting to rip off all that remained.
    She jerked up her head. “You know very well where my clothes are.”
    He raked his gaze over her in disgust, despising how fervently he wanted her. “Cunning fox. You made Meshewa ashamed to look.”
    “ I could think of no other means to escape.”
    “ Have you no shame?”
    Sparks flared in her vivid gaze, melding fire with the blue. “I’m not proud of what I did.”
    “ Why do it? Did I threaten you with death?”
    She frowned. “Worse. I’ll not be mistress to a Frenchman.”
    He scowled back. “You must have been mistress to many Englishmen.”
    “ How dare you!” She swung her hand and smacked the side of his face so hard it stung.
    He caught her arm where the sleeve of her shift had fallen back. “I say it’s the truth.”
    “ It most certainly is not.”
    He liked the feel of her smooth skin but had little time to relish the sensation. She kicked her foot out behind his leg and jerked forward, throwing him slightly off balance. The instant he faltered, she broke free.
    What a hellion. The English expression sprang readily to his mind as he slipped the musket and shot pouch from his bare shoulders to the ground. “You wish to fight me?” He beckoned with his fingers. “Come, then.”
    She flew at his invitation with the fury of a baited bear, slamming her fists up under his chin. She whirled away.
    “Fast,” he conceded. “Yet, not fast enough.”
    He lunged at her retreating figure and threw his arms around her from behind. Wrapping her waist with one arm, he circled the other below her delightfully rounded chest. He pinned her arms as she twisted in his grasp and kicked against his legs and ankles, and simply restrained her, enjoying it all the while.
    “What if I