“It’s quite amazing,” she told him.
“What’s that?”
“Your tender care of that beaded dress!”
He reached out, drawing her down beside him. She offered a token resistance, sighed with impatience, and allowed him to press her back down against the soft hides and furs that made their bed.
“Deer Woman worked very hard on that gown.”
“What if a good, honest, hard-working maiden aunt had worked very hard on the black gown you so quickly destroyed the day we met?”
“Had there been a good, honest, hard-working maiden aunt to make you such a gown, she’d have never allowed you to take off into the wild, wicked, uncivilized West without her.”
“Someone worked long and hard over that gown.”
“Did you want me to rip this one off you?”
“No, of course not, Deer Woman worked very hard?—”
“I rest my point. No maiden aunt.”
“No, no maiden aunt.”
“Just a sister?” he queried. Angled at her side, he stared at her face, watching her hesitate in response to the question.
“Just a sister,” she said.
He watched anew as the fire rippled within the tipi, touching the walls, the pictographs there, touching Skylar, splashing their curious red-gold display of color upon her body. It was certainly warm enough in their snug home here, but she shivered. He set his hand upon her hip, drawing her more tightly against him, casting a leg over hers to offer greater body warmth. He could have drawn one of the large, fur-trimmed sleeping robes around them. He chose not to. The flickering flame that cast waves of light and shadow and color upon her form fascinated him.
“Just a sister,” he repeated. “Did you and she spring from the earth? No parents?”
“My father died a very long time ago. My mother more recently. Not long before your father’s death.”
He was quiet a moment, but his curiosity about her past was piqued once again.
“I’m sorry. It must have been very painful for you.”
“You—you can’t imagine.”
“But I can.”
She turned to him suddenly, intense, passionate. “I swear to you, I did nothing to hurt your father. He knew that my situation was painful. He just wanted to help. I believed with my whole heart that he needed me, that I could help him.”
“Skylar, I want to know about your past.”
She looked away, shaking her head. “My father died a long time ago, my mother more recently. I have my sister. We needed a new life. I never meant to hurt anyone.”
“That’s not my question at the moment?—”
“I have nothing more to tell you.”
“Damn you, Skylar?—”
“There is nothing more to tell! There’s nothing more anyone needs to know if you just believe that I never meant to hurt your father, that I cared for him. I swear?—”
“Skylar, stop it. I believe you.”
She searched out his eyes, not seeming to trust his words. Her own were huge, silver orbs, almost magical in the night. He tried to focus on them. They were like mercury, fascinating. Just as the delicate beauty of her face was captivating. But the night and firelight had their own compelling magic. His eyes fell, focusing on her breasts.
