Read Online Savage Desire (Savage Lagonda 1) by Constance O'Banyon - Free Book Online
Authors: Constance O'Banyon
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, Native Americans, 19th century, Abduction, King, true love, goddess, Protection, Prince, Indian, American West, dove, savage, Courted, Suitors, Lagonda Tribe, Rescued, White People
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important that I make you understand. I want to go home."
She reached for his hand. He looked startled for a moment but did not pull away.
"I wish you could like me. I like you a great deal. How could one not like someone who saved their life, and you have been very good to me, seeing that I am well fed and have a warm place to sleep." Looking into his eyes, she knew he was listening to her. Even though he could not understand her words, maybe he could get her meaning from her tone of voice.
Tajarez waited for her to continue. He liked the feel of her soft hand in his. Unconsciously, he turned her hand over and looked at it. These were hands that had never labored. They were soft and beautifully shaped. Noticing the contrast of her white hand against his dark skin, he dropped her hand quickly.
Mara watched as he picked up a stone from the floor of the cave and began drawing something in the dirt. She looked at the drawing curiously. "You are drawing a fence. No, it's . . . it's a fort!" Excitement entered her voice. "Are you saying you are taking me to a fort?" Mara placed her hands over her face, not daring to hope she had guessed correctly. When she looked at him he nodded slightly. Throwing caution to the wind, she clasped his hand once more. "There are not words to tell you of my gratitude. If you take me to a fort, they will see that I get home safely."
Tajarez watched her beautiful face light up. His heart was gladdened that she was happy. When she smiled, it was as if the sun was shining and birds were singing.
"I wish I knew your name. I owe you so much, and yet I do not even know what to call you." Then she gave him a coquettish smile that was almost his undoing. He felt his facial muscles relax into an almost smile.
"You should smile more often. You are so handsome, beautiful if one can call a man beautiful, but when you smile, you can turn a girl's head. You would be a sensation in Philadelphia."
Releasing his hand, she lay back with her hands clasped behind her head. "You remind me of a knight I read about once in a book about King Arthur. You would be Sir Galahad. No knight of the round table could have fought more valiantly than you when you faced the two Indians so unafraid, and no one could have been more of a gentleman than you have been to me." Mara hid a yawn behind her hand. "I will remember you for the rest of my life," she said sleepily. "Good night, my noble knight. I sleep unafraid with you beside me."
Tajarez looked down at the sleeping girl. He knew about King Arthur. O'Malley had told him many tales from the book about the round table. Somehow he felt angry at her gratitude and her casting him in the role of some fictional character. He wanted more from her than gratitude. Tajarez knew when he left her at the fort he would never see her again. What had his dreams meant, if all he was ever to have of her was this short time that remained before they reached the fort?
He watched her, with her golden hair fanned out above her head. Her long, silky lashes rested against her white skin, hiding the beautiful green eyes. He noticed the way her chest rose and fell in a rhythmic motion, thrusting her small breasts forward each time she inhaled.
Tajarez felt himself on dangerous ground. The sooner he got her to the fort, the better for all concerned.
Lying down beside her, he pulled the robe over them both. He wanted to reach out and touch her and to feel that beautiful body pressed close to his as it had been in his dreams. He turned his back to her, trying to shut off his mind.
Tajarez awoke feeling something soft against his face. He was lying on his back, and a strand of Mara's hair was lying across his face. For a moment he did not move. Then he reached up to remove the tress, but when his hand came in contact with it, the hair curled around his fingers. Against his will he began to caress the silky strand that seemed to come alive in his hand. Tajarez had the desire to bury his face in the
She reached for his hand. He looked startled for a moment but did not pull away.
"I wish you could like me. I like you a great deal. How could one not like someone who saved their life, and you have been very good to me, seeing that I am well fed and have a warm place to sleep." Looking into his eyes, she knew he was listening to her. Even though he could not understand her words, maybe he could get her meaning from her tone of voice.
Tajarez waited for her to continue. He liked the feel of her soft hand in his. Unconsciously, he turned her hand over and looked at it. These were hands that had never labored. They were soft and beautifully shaped. Noticing the contrast of her white hand against his dark skin, he dropped her hand quickly.
Mara watched as he picked up a stone from the floor of the cave and began drawing something in the dirt. She looked at the drawing curiously. "You are drawing a fence. No, it's . . . it's a fort!" Excitement entered her voice. "Are you saying you are taking me to a fort?" Mara placed her hands over her face, not daring to hope she had guessed correctly. When she looked at him he nodded slightly. Throwing caution to the wind, she clasped his hand once more. "There are not words to tell you of my gratitude. If you take me to a fort, they will see that I get home safely."
Tajarez watched her beautiful face light up. His heart was gladdened that she was happy. When she smiled, it was as if the sun was shining and birds were singing.
"I wish I knew your name. I owe you so much, and yet I do not even know what to call you." Then she gave him a coquettish smile that was almost his undoing. He felt his facial muscles relax into an almost smile.
"You should smile more often. You are so handsome, beautiful if one can call a man beautiful, but when you smile, you can turn a girl's head. You would be a sensation in Philadelphia."
Releasing his hand, she lay back with her hands clasped behind her head. "You remind me of a knight I read about once in a book about King Arthur. You would be Sir Galahad. No knight of the round table could have fought more valiantly than you when you faced the two Indians so unafraid, and no one could have been more of a gentleman than you have been to me." Mara hid a yawn behind her hand. "I will remember you for the rest of my life," she said sleepily. "Good night, my noble knight. I sleep unafraid with you beside me."
Tajarez looked down at the sleeping girl. He knew about King Arthur. O'Malley had told him many tales from the book about the round table. Somehow he felt angry at her gratitude and her casting him in the role of some fictional character. He wanted more from her than gratitude. Tajarez knew when he left her at the fort he would never see her again. What had his dreams meant, if all he was ever to have of her was this short time that remained before they reached the fort?
He watched her, with her golden hair fanned out above her head. Her long, silky lashes rested against her white skin, hiding the beautiful green eyes. He noticed the way her chest rose and fell in a rhythmic motion, thrusting her small breasts forward each time she inhaled.
Tajarez felt himself on dangerous ground. The sooner he got her to the fort, the better for all concerned.
Lying down beside her, he pulled the robe over them both. He wanted to reach out and touch her and to feel that beautiful body pressed close to his as it had been in his dreams. He turned his back to her, trying to shut off his mind.
Tajarez awoke feeling something soft against his face. He was lying on his back, and a strand of Mara's hair was lying across his face. For a moment he did not move. Then he reached up to remove the tress, but when his hand came in contact with it, the hair curled around his fingers. Against his will he began to caress the silky strand that seemed to come alive in his hand. Tajarez had the desire to bury his face in the
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