When Passion Calls

There was now. Only now.

Shane drew her into his embrace and held her tightly against him, her breasts pressed into his flesh, rendering him almost mindless. "Are you still cold?" he asked, his voice husky.

"How could I be cold?" she whispered, brushing her lips across his mouth. "Shane, your mere touch sets me afire."

Their bodies strained together hungrily as

Shane took her mouth by storm. His fingers ran down her body, caressing her, then clasped the softness of her buttocks. Lifting her, he guided her onto his lap.

Drugged by his kiss, Melanie slipped her legs around him and straddled him. She arched and cried out against his lips as he drove swiftly into her.

Melanie's blood quickened as Shane's thrusts propelled her into another world, a world of ecstasy. When his lips left her mouth and dipped low to flick over her hardening nipples, she held her head back and moaned with pleasure. His fingers raked lightly down her spine, over her silken hips, back around again to her buttocks.

Cupping her with his hands, he pulled her down harder against him as his strokes quickened. As his hardness filled her even more deeply, it touched that innermost part of herself that she had only recently discovered, that which knew the wonders of fulfilled longings . . .

Again Shane kissed her.

He tingled in anticipation, yet fought to go more slowly, to savor the swimming sensations that loving her always caused within him. He reverently breathed her name against her parted mouth; his lips brushed her throat.

Melanie was aware of how Shane's body suddenly hardened and tightened. She knew that his release was near. As his mouth came down over hers demandingly, his fierce, fevered kiss triggered a fire in her. She abandoned herself to the wondrous ecstasy flooding her senses. She trembled,

her hands moving over the slope of his hard jaw, through the shock of his golden hair.

With quick, eager fingers, Shane cupped Melanie's breasts. As the peak he had sought was reached, he held his head back and emitted a loud cry that filled the dark void of the night.

Melanie clung to him as he shuddered violently into her. She closed her eyes, lost to everything but rapture.

Breathing hard, Shane lifted Melanie from his lap. Gently, he draped the blanket around her shoulders again. He gazed down upon her, trying to hide his torn emotions from her astute eyes. Although she had just shown again how much she loved him, and he had discovered anew how important she was to him, Shane was troubled about their future. It had disturbed him terribly to have to steal into the Indian village like an enemy. The more he thought about it, the more he resented Gray Falcon for denying him his rights.

He had cut his hair to prove something to Gray Falcon, but had the act proven anything to Shane? Could he ever truly conform to this new life he had chosen?

He wanted tobut only for Melanie.

Should he allow a woman to be that important to him? And what of her welfare? Hadn't she been drawn into Gray Falcon's vendetta against Shane? Would it be best to take her safely home, then go on his way, alone? He had brought nothing into Melanie's life but confusion.

And wasn't it time to settle this thing with Trapper Dan?

Sensing that Shane was troubled, Melanie touched his cheek in a soft caress. "Darling, please tell me what's wrong," she murmured. "Perhaps I can help. I owe you so much, Shane. Because of you"

Shane gently covered her mouth with his hand. "You owe me nothing," he said, devouring her face with his eyes, memorizing her for all lonely nights of his future. "It is I who owe you. You have given me so much. I, in truth, have given you so little in return. Only confusion and danger!"

Melanie crept into his arms, her blanket dropping away from her. "Oh, Shane, how can you say that?" she asked softly, placing her cheek to his bare, solid chest. "You have given me a direction in my lifea true reason for my existence. Until you came, I was only half a person. Now I'm whole. I awaken each day with a song on my lips. Darling, you are that song. You are my life."

Guilt sprang forth within Shane for even thinking of abandoning her. She would never understand. She would never forgive him!

"I love you so, Melanie," he whispered, his breath hot on her ear. "Always remember that."

Melanie stiffened. She drew slowly away from him and gazed up at him questioningly. "Shane, you say that as though there is a double meaning to it," she murmured. "Why, Shane? Why?"

To change the subject, Shane once more pulled the blanket up around her shoulders. "I'm sorry if I seem distant," he apologized. He thought fast, trying to hide his true thoughts from her. "But I have something that lies heavy on my mind and

heart." He glanced over at her. "You remember the trapper? The one who killed Cedar Maid? The one who stole from my mother after she was killed in the massacre?"

Melanie's insides went cold. Again she was reminded of having seen a man in St. Paul who fit the trapper's description. She had chosen not to tell Shane about the man. Had she been wrong?

"Yes, I recall the man," she said, her voice drawn.

"Melanie, I saw him yesterday," Shane said, raking his fingers through his hair.