These were thrilling words, wonderful words, even if she didn’t believe them, and she clenched her fists to keep herself from reacting to him. She said, “I think you are being impertinent.”
She could feel him shrug. “It would, at least, make the wager interesting.”
She sniffed. “I’m not that desperate.”
His face must have been close to her ear, for when he whispered, “Neither am I,” she heard him distinctly. Then he went on to say, “But then, a kiss is perhaps too much to ask of a white woman.”
A kiss? She spun around so quickly, she wheeled off-balance. He caught her, his hands grabbing hold of her waist to steady her. “That’s all you’ve been speaking of? A kiss?”
He gave her a devilish grin, his lips close to her own, before he said, “Maybe two, if you please.”
She took a step backward, out of his arms, watching as his arms fell to his sides.
“What kind of kiss?”
Darn. There it was again, that dazzling smile. It made his face light up as though mood alone ruled his countenance. Worse, when she looked at him, her insides went all soft and warm, as though she were made of nothing but butter and rum. He said, “Should I show you the kind of kiss that I like?”
“Sir!”
He chuckled, closed one eyelid and winked at her. “It would be a simple kiss, two pairs of lips squeezed against each other.” He leaned down to her, but simply pressed his lips against one of his own fingers, which he then placed over her lips.
At the contact, her body reacted as though it was ready for so much more. She shut her eyes, feeling slightly faint.
“But I would reserve the right…” He paused, causing her to open her eyes. Drat! His handsome face swam in front of her, and at the sight, a smoldering fire fanned to life within her; her stomach somersaulted. He stood close; so close, she could smell the scent of mint on his breath, the musky fragrance of his skin, the fresh odor of buckskin.
“The right,” he continued, “to hold you in my arms when I kiss you.”
“Oh, I see. I…I’m not sure.”
“Are you afraid, then? Afraid you might start to feel something besides a white woman’s contempt for an Indian?”
“You know that’s not true,” she whispered. “You know from speaking to me tonight that I don’t hold this opinion.”
He drew in a deep, ragged breath. “yes,” he said. “You are right, and I apologize for saying that. You are not the kind of person to feel scorn for another, are you? Simply because he is different than you are. So if not that, what are you afraid of?”Aa,
“I…I’m afraid that I might…” She didn’t finish the sentence. She wasn’t certain that she herself understood what she’d been about to say. Although there was one thing she knew she could count on…her mind’s ability to reason. She said, “Y-you are correct. The stakes should be something we are unwilling to part with. You, to aid something alien to you. Me, to give up my work, and a kiss.”
He nodded. “Seems fair.”
“All right, then I…I believe we have a venture, Mister, ah…Soaring Eagle. Sh-shall we shake on it?” She would have held out her hand, except that he stood too close to her to do so.
“We could,” he said, “or perhaps we could do something better.”
And before she could stop him, he gathered her hand in his, bringing it, glove and all, to his lips. She gasped. Not because of what he was doing, but because…
He glanced up at her and smirked. “When I was at the white man’s school,” he said, “I learned an odd custom. At first I thought it was a strange practice, but the more I thought about it, the more and more I appreciated the wit of the white man.” And turning her hand palm up, he pressed another kiss against her wrist.
Kali’s heartbeat raced out of proportion to the action, and it was all she could do to stand upright at the moment, for her knees threatened to collapse beneath her. And truth to tell, she had little time to hide her reaction from him, for when he raised his head and said, “I believe we have a wager, Little Miss Redhead,” his look was so full of mischief, she wondered if she had, perhaps, made a tactical error…