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fight back?” he asked against the nape of her neck.
    She stilled, panting. “I’ll lose.”
    “ Swiftly.” He whipped her around so that he held her just as he wanted, the feel of her maddeningly desirable. “Perhaps I will think of something better. Something you know well.” His voice had gone husky.
    “ I do not!” She grabbed for the pistol.
    He snapped his fingers around her slender wrist. “To regain your pistol you must be as swift as the hawk.”
    She stomped on his moccasin. “Was that swift enough?”
    He almost laughed as he shoved her foot aside. He held her immobile. “You cannot prevail against me, Peshewa.”
    Lifting her chin, she stared up at him with those scorching eyes.
    He looked hard into her unbridled defiance then bent his head and took her mouth in a heated kiss so urgent it was nearly fierce. Fire flared in him at the feel of her supple lips. The intensity was almost beyond bearing.
    For a searing second her mouth parted under his, and it seemed she just might surrender without a fight. Then she thrust her leg behind his, jerking it forward more forcefully.
    Vixen. She’d overshot her mark and unsettled them both.
    He lurched toward her, bearing her down to the grass. She crumpled beneath him. Air rushed out from her lungs as he landed atop her enticing curves.
    She gasped, “Is it your way to force a helpless woman?”
    “ Helpless?” he echoed in exasperation, as frenzied with lust as a raging stallion. He lightened his weight to spare her already bruised body and pinned her thrashing arms over her head. “You are like no other woman.”
    Fear flickered in her eyes. “Don’t hurt me, Shoka.”
    “ Stop resisting. I will do nothing you are not used to, Peshewa.”
    She glared at him. “How do you know what I’m used to?”
    He pressed his lips over the delectable curve of her neck. Men had died for far less than this sweetness. “I have thoughts,” he said, his mouth against her skin. He felt her shiver at his touch, an involuntary response not lost on him.
    She fought to tear away. “I am not as you think.”
    “ No?” Clipping her wrists in one hand, he slid his other up her side over her shift to her breasts—stopping when he encountered the stiffened bodice. “What is this thing?”
    “ My corset.”
    He drew his knife. “I will cut it from you.”
    At this threat, she grew frantic. “Undo the laces. ’Tis simply done.”
    Sunlight glinted on the blade. Why should he indulge such a shameless woman? “Cutting is simpler.”
    Tears sprang into her eyes. “Don’t. Please.”
    “ You weep for this?”
    She blinked moist lashes. “And for my honor.”
    Snorting, he sheathed the blade. “Stop fighting me.”
    She lay trembling as he rolled her over. Had he fully intimidated her? He ’d expected to wrestle a devil cat.
    With innate wariness, he brushed aside her wealth of hair and undid the laces. He peeled off the ridiculous garment, finding it heavier than he ’d expected. It must be lined with lead, he thought, and pitched the cumbersome thing to the fern.
    The sight of Rebecca wearing only that clinging shift sped his already runaway desire. He tugged the drawstring at her neck and slipped the underdress down over her tempting shoulders, kissing her soft skin above the diminishing cloth. His conscience chided him. He shouldn ’t take advantage of her this way, but she’d provoked him beyond endurance.
    “ I will be gentle, beautiful Rebecca,” he whispered, then stopped as though from a forceful punch to the jaw.
    Breathing in sharply, he surveyed the ugly scars crisscrossing the milky surface of her back. After a stunned moment, he nudged the shift lower and traced his fingers over the grim handiwork. Who would defile such perfection?
    Someone had. More than once. Likely a stout man with a rod.
    For a time, he said nothing. Then he found his tongue. “Who gave you this punishment?”
    “ Papa.”
    Shoka listened in outraged disbelief. How dare any man