Cheyenne Captive by Georgina Gentry - Iron Knife's Family 01 - Cheyenne Captive Page A

naked man before. She shivered and stared up at the magnificent, bronzed male. He was wide of shoulder, and narrow at the waist and hip. His hard muscles rippled in the firelight, showing the whip scars on his back, the sun dance scars on his great chest.
    She felt her face flush crimson as she looked away from the beauty of his maleness. She only half realized for a moment that the naked savage was crawling under the robe with her. “No!” She tried to push him away. “No!”
    “You little fool!” he hissed, reaching out to pull her shivering body close to his warm, hard chest. “I’m trying to warm you! Lie still!” he commanded.
    She struggled a moment longer, shaking, thinking she had never been so cold before. As she felt the heat from his big body, she instinctively pressed herself against him. She was only dimly aware now of both their nakedness, and the rightness or wrongness of it, only drawn to him like a flower to the warm sun.
    She felt his arms go about her, cradling her blond head in the hollow of his dark shoulder. He half-covered her shivering form with his body and pulled her against him so that she could feel the maleness of him. Summer remained rigid a moment and then; relaxed in his arms and gloried in the warmth that slowly spread through her slender frame.
    His big hands felt like fire as they massaged her back, her hips, returning circulation. It felt good, and since she was powerless to stop him anyhow, she sighed and almost enjoyed the feel of his hands as she drifted in and out of delirium.
    Once, she imagined that his lips kissed the soft hollow of her throat, and she thought he trembled as he held her. But she was warm now and her arm no longer throbbed. For the first time in many hours, she was not in pain. Somehow she felt protected and secure even though she lay naked in his embrace.
    Gradually, she dropped off into a deep, healing sleep.
     
     
    When she finally awakened, Summer lay puzzled, looking about the tepee, trying to remember where she was and what had happened. The memories flooded back and suddenly she realized she lay naked with her long blond hair spread out over the hollow of Iron Knife’s shoulder. One of his powerful arms lay possessively across her curved hip under the buffalo robe.
    Horrified, she tried to scurry away from him and realized how weak and exhausted she was. He came out of his deep slumber with a start as she tried to crawl away. Putting his arm under his head, he watched her fumbling with the deerskin dress.
    “Don’t be so terrified,” he assured her. “I didn’t take you.”
    “How do I know that?” she sobbed, struggling with the dress.
    “Do you think I could, and your body not know?”
    He stood up slowly, and she blushed at the sight of his magnificent maleness. She paused, thinking. Of course he hadn’t touched her. Even in her delirium, she knew she would have remembered being invaded by such a stallion.
    He dressed silently and then turned to help her pull her dress down over her head and reexamined her arm. She looked with him, and realized that the swelling had gone. The arm was healing. Trying to stand up, she staggered. She would have fallen had he not caught her in his arms.
    “I—I must have been ill a long time,” she whispered.
    “You were.” He looked down at her, and she saw the weariness in his face, realized he had probably slept very little.
    “Well, I’m very grateful to you,” Summer said primly, trying not to recall the images of his naked body, the warmth of him against her. “When I get back to Fort Smith, my father will reward you.”
    He swore an oath and jerked away from her abruptly. “Do you think I did all that for money? I did it for you, Summer Sky, because you are my woman!”
    “I am not your woman!” she snapped, stiffening. “You can’t own me like you would a rifle or a horse. Anyway,” she shrugged, “the whole idea is ridiculous! After all, I’m a Van Schuyler, and