Worried, Alanna knelt by his side. "Are you feeling ill again?"
Surprised that she had to ask, Hunter shrugged slightly. "I'm no worse than before, but I'm far from well."
"I'm sorry."
"So am I." Hunter popped a berry into his mouth and munched it slowly. "Catch some fish, if you want them. I'm not hungry."
No more willing to chat than he, Alanna moved away and busied herself collecting fist-sized stones to ring a fire. Next she gathered firewood, but left it unlit while she went down to the lake to fish. She could feel Hunt
er watching her, and each time she glanced his way, she found his expression dark and brooding. Glancing up at the sky, she wondered where the day had gone. She wasn't really hungry either, but fishing gave her something to do. The trout weren't nearly as easy to catch in the afternoon as they were at dawn, but she persevered until she had six.
"I thought you might change your mind about eating," she told him.
Hunter shook his head. She had not danced over the rocks in the way that had amused him so the last time he had watched her fish. She had simply stood at the water's edge, looking as lost as he felt. She roasted her catch, and from what he could see, again overcooked it, and he was ashamed he hadn't offered to help. He knew he was being very poor company, but by the time she had finished eating supper, he was positive he knew what the problem was. He could not believe he had been so blind.
"Because I'm Indian, I know I'm the last man you could ever love, but I wish things had been different, better, so that we could stay together."
He was rolling the shaft of an arrow slowly between his fingers rather than look at her, but the sadness in his voice broke her heart. "Do you really want me to stay with you?" she whispered. When he glanced up at her, she couldn't tell if he were hurt, or insulted. "What I mean is, I'm nothing like Melissa."
Hunter swore a particularly vile oath, but wisely chose to do so in his mother tongue. "I know," he then agreed in English. "It's what I've always liked best about you."
Alanna had to swallow hard to force away the painful ache in her throat. "I didn't think you wanted me."
Hunter laid the arrow aside. "Come here."
They were seated just a few feet apart, but when Hunter extended his hand, Alanna wondered if they could ever truly bridge the wide gulf that separated them. She had so many questions. Questions she knew he and Melissa should have answered, before they had begun their brief affair. She hung back, but when Hunter began to smile, her only thought was how remarkably handsome he was, and how desperately she wanted him to make love to her. In the next instant she was in his arms, the answers she had sought, forgotten.
Afraid of scaring her off, Hunter wrapped her in a relaxed embrace. He rested his chin atop her head and patted her back lightly. "I have nothing to give you," he admitted sadly.
Alanna sat back slightly, so she could look up at him. "I have no need of things."
Hunter caressed her cheek, then slipped his fingers through her shiny curls. "Yes, you do. White women need a great many things."
"I don't need anything that you can't provide."
A slow smile played across Hunter's lips. "And what is that?"
"A home, food, whatever we'll need to survive."
Hunter wanted to give her so much more. "Is that all you want?"
His seductive whisper sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. She reached up to trace the edge of his jaw, and he turned his head to move with her and prolong the touch. That he would lean into her caress like an affectionate cat amused her. There was an animal wildness about him that his soft-spoken manner had never fully disguised, but now she found it enormously intriguing rather than frightening.
"All I want is you," she replied in a tone as inviting as his.
"Can you wait until I'm well?"
Alanna broke into a mischievous grin and shook her head. "No, I don't think I can wait another minute." She leaned down to flick his nipple with the tip of her tongue, but when he flinched, she sat back.
"Does that bother you?" she asked.
"Oh, yes," Hunter admitted, but he sounded appreciative rather than annoyed. He wound his fingers in her hair to pull her lips to his for a fervent kiss he didn't end, until she was lying beneath him. Cradled in the soft, spring grass, her eyes glowed with the same iridescent sheen as the new spring leaves overhead, while her tawny curls caught the last of the sun's vermilion rays.
Hunter rested on his elbows and struggled to find the right words to make her understand without frightening her. "I wanted to make love to you this morning, but the pain got too bad, and I couldn't. Please be patient with me. If we have forever, a few days shouldn't make any difference."
That she had mistaken his lack of passion for disinterest, when pain had been the cause, made Alanna blush with shame. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so stupid." She tried to sit up, but he blocked her way.
"The fault is mine. You couldn't have known."