“Lance…I’m sorry…” She smiled at him tentatively, with imploring sweetness. “I was frightened at first. It was all so new to me…We’ve been married barely a week. But I’ve had time to grow accustomed to you…to us. And I’m not afraid of you. Can’t you forgive me?”
With an angry jerk, he tightened the cinch around the horse’s girth. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
When he turned and walked away, Summer stood there, half-stunned, half-piqued, by his rejection.
Lance busied himself with the rest of their gear, clenching his teeth and cursing under his breath. Her magnanimous offer grated on every nerve he owned. You can make love to me if you want.
Like hell he would. He would chew nails before he let Summer make such a sacrifice. He didn’t want her turning herself into a martyr. He wouldn’t play the wicked villain to her helpless, swooning maiden, He didn’t want her that bad.
Or maybe he did. But that wasn’t what kept him from taking her up on her offer. It wasn’t even his conscience holding him back. He knew it would be a fair exchange, his risking his life for Summer’s body.
The trouble was, he didn’t want just Summer’s body, no matter how willing. He wanted her. All of her. Wanted her smiling at him the way she once had—with that sweet, open smile that had snared his defenseless kid’s heart. Wanted her green eyes going all soft and liquid with tenderness when she looked at him.
Dammit, he wanted her to care. He wanted—needed—her to see him as somebody worth having as her husband, a man she could look up to.
And that was about as likely as pigs flying.
* * *
That day they rode in silence across mile after mile of flat open prairie. If it had been any other man, Summer might have tried to charm him out of his ill temper, but with Lance she didn’t dare. He seemed determined to resume hostilities, committed to remaining immune to her appeal.
Indeed, exercising the normal social graces seemed only to anger him more. She had merely to smile at Lance and he assumed she was practicing her feminine wiles. He mistrusted even simple courtesy, coming from her. The one time she attempted an apology by placing a placating hand on his arm, he pulled away as if burned.
She tried to tell herself she wasn’t upset that he had spurned her offer, that she wasn’t disappointed, but the voice of her conscience upbraided her for thinking like a fool.
She wanted Lance to make love to her, wanted him to desire her. She wanted to know what she had missed on their wedding night—and every night since. It wasn’t hard to imagine the pleasure he could give her. Every womanly instinct she possessed told her his lovemaking would be raw and fierce and exhilarating, like dancing with lightning.
By late morning, though, Summer was hot and weary enough not to care if her actions angered him, as long as she could end the brooding silence that her husband had subjected her to lately.
Deciding it would be a fitting revenge to force Lance to talk to her, Summer brought her horse alongside his and bestirred herself to ask about his Comanche relatives. “You said you had a brother named Fights Bear. Is that who you intend to ask for help?”
Lance gave her a sharp glance, as if suspicious of her intent.
“You said I had to ask if I wanted to know about your family. Well, I’m asking.”
He didn’t reply at once, yet she couldn’t blame him for his hesitation. No doubt he thought she would look down her nose at his heathen relatives. She intended to try to keep an open mind, though, and not sit in judgment of a way of life she didn’t understand. “I would like to learn about your family. I want to know where we’re going, what to expect when we get there.”
Lance shrugged. “I’m not sure what to expect.”
“Do you think your brother will help us find Amelia?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I didn’t leave under the best of circumstances.”
“What do you mean?”
“I rejected the Comanche way of life. I’m no longer considered a member of the People.”
Summer searched his face in the harsh sunlight. “You rejected it? Why?”
Lance averted his gaze, staring straight ahead between his horse’s ears. “It’s a long story. You wouldn’t be interested.”
“But I would.” When he didn’t reply, Summer decided perhaps it would be wiser to use a less direct approach if she expected to pry out any information from him. “Does your brother blame you for leaving?”
He nodded curtly. “Like any warrior, Fights Bear only has scorn for a Comanche who would attach himself to the white man. I’ve only been back to visit twice since I left, and my reception wasn’t too keen then.” Lance gave a faint smile, as if recalling a private memory. “My grandmother and sister were the only ones glad to see me.”
“Your grandmother?”
“My father’s mother. She’s a real terror. She has more power than most Comanche women because of her medicine skills.”