When Passion Calls

troubled thoughts, Shane turned his back to the departing Indians. He swallowed hard, then looked down at Melanie.

His gut twisted strangely when he saw a look of knowing in her eyes. Had she truly read his thoughts only a moment ago? Did she know how badly he wanted to join the Chippewa, become a part of their lives again?

But did she also know that if that ever could have been possible, she would still be a part of that life? She could live in that wigwam with him. She could bear their child there and sit by the fire, nursing him.

"Darling, I think we should join our guests again," Melanie said, seeing something akin to torment in her husband's eyes. She knew what had caused it. Why had Chief Gray Falcon arrived today, of all days, to bring back memories that haunted Shane? To make him hunger for that which he could no longer have? Whyoh, why?

"Yes, it would be best," Shane said, guiding her back into the house. The aroma wafting from the massive dining room was mouth-watering. "It is time to feed our guests, wouldn't you say?"

"And then afterwards?" Melanie giggled, clinging to Shane as they moved into the back parlor. "What then, my darling husband?"

"I have a surprise awaiting you, my darling wife," Shane said, smiling down at her.

"What?" Melanie asked, her voice lilting.

"It would not be a surprise if I told you, would it?"

"Well, I guess not," Melanie said, laughing softly.

The guests welcomed them, and then proceeded into the dining room. A Waterford crystal chandelier set off the large, airy room. A long, dark mahogany table was set with Sevres porcelain. Platter after platter with mounds and mounds of food were set along the table. There was marinated beef tenderloin, broccoli swimming in melted cheese, ham loaf baked with a tangy tomato sauce glaze, sweet potatoes, fresh rolls with butter, and jam and apple butter. Dessert was sitting on a sidetablepeach shortcake, Melanie's favorite.

As everyone sat down at the table, they found a tall glass of lemonade besprigged with mint awaiting their pleasure. A string quartet played just outside on the lawn, the music wafting through the open windows with the gentle breeze as light and airy as the Liszt ?tude that was being played.

It was the end of a wonderful day. Melanie ate slowly as she gave Shane occasional glances. He seemed still in a sort of fog. She attributed that to Chief Gray Falcon. Was he now regretting that he had not accepted the chief's apology? Would he forever regret it? Would that overshadow their night filled with surprises and the promise of gentle lovemaking?

She hoped not. One's wedding night came only once in a lifetime.

Yet she knew that she would perhaps have to live under the shadow, always, of Shane's past. She

had been foolish to think that he had totally left it behind.

Everyone was gone. The night was like wide water, without sound. Shane swept Melanie up into his arms and began ascending the graceful, curved stairway with bronze rails and delicately turned balusters, also of bronze. As he looked at her, words were not necessary. He could see in her eyes and in the way her pulse beat at the hollow of her throat the excitement building within her over what was to come on their wedding night. Though they had shared many intimate moments before their wedding vows had been spoken, they still looked forward to this new sort of sharingthis sharing of a total commitment!

''Oh, Shane, I feel so sinful," Melanie said, clinging around his neck. Her hair drifted down behind her, almost touching the floor as she held her head back.

"Sinf

ul?" Shane said, forking an eyebrow. "Why would you? We can now boast of being married!"

Melanie's eyes gleamed into his as she straightened her back. "Darling, I know that we are married," she said, their eyes meeting and holding. "I feel sinful because I am so deliriously happy!"

"Oh, I see," Shane said, chuckling. He stepped up on the second floor landing and began walking down the corridor that was lighted by soft flickering candles in wall sconces.

Melanie's eyes flickered over the door that was usually Shane's as he passed it by. She looked back up at him. "Where are you taking me?" she asked. "Why aren't you taking me to your room?"

"Be patient," Shane said, going to another room and nudging the door open with his shoulder. He stepped inside. The room was flooded with candlelight.

Melanie's breath was stolen as he carried her on to a large bedroom that boasted a fourteen-foot ceiling. A carved double bed, canopied with white lace, stood in the middle of the room, while all around the room were deep, comfortable, thick-cushioned chairs and sofas.

Off the room, Melanie could see something that made her want to cry. Shane had seen to it that the adjoining room had already been made into a nursery. She could see a baby's crib, gaily colored wallpaper, and an assortment of all the toys that a child could want!

She looked up at him and placed a hand to his cheek. "Darling, darling . . ." she whispered, then sighed with pleasure as he laid her down on the bed, upon a layering of crisply-tailored sheets. She watched him begin to undress, then sat up on the bed and began matching him, removing her clothes piece by piece.

When he joined her on the bed, she accepted him atop her. There were no preliminaries. He plunged himself inside her and began his slow strokes.

"Shane, are you going to sleep with me at

night?" she whispered, running her fingernails up and down his spine.