and longed for more, but if Erica were not strong soon, he knew he would have no choice but to take her to where the captives were being held. The women there would be able to care for her if he could not. He wanted the vibrant beauty he had found it impossible to forget to share his nights, not a frail creature who shook with fear whenever he forced her to look at him. If her health did not improve soon, he would not keep her.
He thought of Song of the Wren then. He had seen her only once since the night he had nearly had to fight another brave to protect her, and she had quickly turned away as though sne were ashamed rather than grateful for his help. Wren was pretty, but when she had thrown herself into his arms and wept he had found no pleasure in her nearness, no thrill in the feel of her lips against his bare chest. Sound asleep. Erica was more exciting than Wren would ever be, and he hoped the Indian maiden would soon set her sights on someone else, since he had no interest in her. It was true she was of his own kind, but while he was loath to admit it. Erica was, too.
Viper awakened often that night, and each time he found Erica snuggled against him sleeping peacefully. Her fair hair shone in the moonlight, her beauty taunting him with desire. He had wanted to talk with her, to recapture the rapport they had shared all too briefly, and his impatience for the coming dawn awakened him frequently. But the night passed with maddening slowness. When finally the sky began to lighten, he hoped Erica would awaken, too, but she continued to sleep so soundly he began to worry she might never return from the world of dreams. That the woman he wanted for his wife might be stolen from him as everything else he had ever treasured had been was too bitter a possibility to bear, and he greeted the new day in a mood far darker than the midnight sky.
The sun was high overhead when Erica began to stir. Opening her eyes, she saw a heap of blackberries on the edge of the blanket, and fearing she had been abandoned with no more than a pile of fruit, she sat up and quickly scanned the clearing. Her fears subsided, then returned full-blown when she saw Viper, comfortably seated with a maple tree at his back, no more than ten feet away. He was lazily plucking the brighdy colored feathers from a pheasant's carcass. In the clear light of day, without his war paint, his ready grin was reassuring, until she recalled how she had come to be with him.
"I am glad you are awake. I did not want to eat this fine bird all alone. The berries are fcwr your breakfast,'' he then remembered to add, delighted she had not awakened screaming.
Erica could recall little of the previous night's conversation, but she was certain they had not said goodnight on pleasant terms. She rose shakily, stepped into her slippers, which Viper had thoughtfully placed at the edge of the blanket, then attempted to smooth the wrinkles from her dress. That effort proved futile, however, and she stared in the direction she thought the stream lay. "I am going to wash," she announced firmly, as though she were still in control of her life rather than he.
"You will need my help," Viper offered generously. He laid the half-plucked pheasant aside, but before he
could rise Erica refused his offer.
"All I need from you is some privacy," she responded coldly.
"Erica," Viper called out with a low chuckle.
Thinking he was making fun of the way she looked, which she knew had to be ghastly, the distraught blonde did not stop walking but merely called over her shoulder, "I am a grown woman. I don't need help to wash."
"The stream is the other way," Viper pointed out matter-of-factly, but he was relieved that she seemed to be feeling like her usual feisty self.
Erica wheeled around, horribly embarrassed she had not known that herself, even though her memory of the stream's soothing coolness was dim. "Thank you," she mumbled with a haughty toss of her tangled curls. She marched past him again, displaying the proud posture that proclaimed her a lady through and through. While she cud not see it. Viper's grin grew twice as wide.
Once she reached tne stream. Erica turned to look back over her shoulder to make certain she had not been followed. Birds called to one another overhead, while chattering squirrels scampered through the branches, but the only animal that concerned her was the Indian. Hoping he would give her a few minutes alone before he came searching for her, she slipped her dress off her shoulders so she could rinse the grime from her face, throat, and arms. She had been too tired to demand a softer bed than the ground had made, but she felt so stiff and sore that morning she vowed to find a better substitute before nightfall.
Her hair was so badly tangled she despaired of ever combing it free of knots. She bent over to drench her curls in the stream, thinking her hair would at least be clean, if not snarl free. When she finally returned to the clearing she was feeling so much better she nearly asked Viper for a comb, then caught herself and did not make so foolish a request. She doubted he would have one, and even if he did she did not want to share anything of his. Sitting down on the blanket, she turned her back toward him, and feeling surprisingly hungry, she began to pop the succulent blackberries into her mouth in rapid succession, pausing only long enough between bites to wipe the dark purple
juice from her chin.
Viper was disappointed in Erica's pose, but rather than order her to face him, he simply got to his feet, walked over to her side, and joined her on the blanket. "Do you know how to clean a bird?" he asked as he made himself comfortable.
"Of course," Erica replied flippandy, although, in truth, she had watched others handle that task but she had never done it herself.
Viper removed the last few feathers, then tossed the limp
Eheasant her way. "Good. When you finish eating your reakfast, prepare the bird while I gather the wood to roast it."
The sunshine bathed the clearing in a charming golden glow, but Erica saw only the neat hole Viper's arrow had drilled through the pheasant's breast, ana feeling chilled clear through, rubbed her arms briskly.
"Are you cold?" Viper thought it unlikely, since the day was a warm one, but he knew she was far more delicate than he and undoubtedly more sensitive to both heat and cold. He had no shirt, but since he seldom wore one in summer, he did not miss it.
Erica shook her head, then brushed her still dripping curls off her shoulders as she thought of a fact she was certain he had not considered. "My father is a wealthy man. You would be wise to ask for a ransom for me and find yourself an Indian girl to do your chores."
Clearly the defiant blonde still thought herself too good for him, and Viper rebelled instantly at that insult. His expression grew stem, and his gaze turned cold as he replied, "It is not money I want, nor another woman. You are the only prize I am after."
"Prize?" Erica asked incredulously, not about to be considered part of the spoils of the uprising. "The Sioux may have won a battle or two. Viper, but the army will soon send soldiers from Fort Snelling to defeat you rogues soundly, and then you'll suffer for kidnapping me."
"Your words are very brave this morning," Viper replied with an arrogant sneer. "But do you really thmk the army has enough soldiers to send some to look for you?"
"YesI" Erica responded without a moment's hesitation, her deep blue eyes blazing with indignation. "They will
chop down all the trees in this forest if they must, but they will find every single captive the Sioux have taken."
Having no wish to argue what he considered a ridiculous point, Viper drew his knife and handed it to her handle first. "Take the bird to the stream and clean it there. I will build a fire."
Astonished that he would trust her with a weapon. Erica stared at him wide-eyed. The young man had superb coordination. All his actions were characterized by a fluid grace. Could she move fast enough to plunge the blade between his ribs before he could block the blow?
Viper saw that murderous thought cross Erica's mind as a frown furrowed her brow. "I would break your wrist before that blade touched my skin. Do not take that risk. Not ever," he warned sternly. He rose to his feet, and turning his back on her, walked out of the clearing to begin fetching wood.
"You arrogant bastardl" the irate blonde muttered under her breath. Her appetite suddenly gone, she scattered the remaining berries with a broad sweep of her hand. She then picked up the pheasant and rose gracefully to her feet as though she were holding a bouquet of flowers rather than a dead bird. She was certain Viper was only trying to fool her by bragging that he prized her more highly than a handsome ransom, and she vowed to bring up the subject as often as necessary to convince him to think otherwise and set her free.
Vip>er was pleased to see Erica's health greatly improved after a night's rest, but he was still angry that she did not appreciate the reasons he had taken her away from New Ulm before it had become overrun by Sioux warriors. He had spared her the sight of much death and suffering. He had also saved her the humiliation of being tadcen captive. Why had that consideration not impressed her?
She had said her father had money. From what he had seen of her clothes he believed she was speaking the truth. Porhaps in her home servants saw to her every need. She had not refused to clean the bird, though, and that was to her credit. Still, her surly mood was making things far more difficult than he had expected. For the hunckedth time Viper cursed his own ignorance where women were concerned, but he doubted experience with any other women, Indian or white, could ever have prepared him to
deal with Erica.
The Indian's scowl did not lift as he built a fire. As he had told her, Sioux maidens were raised to be modest, and when they became wives they served their husband's every need graciously. What sort of wife had he exp>ected Erica to make? Had the memory of the luscious taste of her kisses and the charms of her graceful body clouded his mind so greatly that he had not considered the differences between mem to be any greater than those between any man and woman?
When Erica returned with the pheasant. Viper had buried the ends of two sturdy branches on opposite sides of the fire to hold a third branch he meant to suspend between them as a spit. He offered no criticism nor praise for the way she had dressed the pheasant, but simply threaded it upon the spit and placed it over the fire to roast. "My knife," he stated then, his softly spoken words a demand for the weapon's return.
Wary of him. Erica gripp>ed the knife tightly, reluctant to surrender it. She knew damn little about the Indian, except for the fact that he was clearly strong enough to force himself upon her whenever he chose. Did he plan to wait until he had a full stomach to do so?
Viper turned to face Erica, his light eyes filled with a smoky haze that mirrored her confusion. "I will loan you the knife whenever you have need of it, but it is mine." He held out his hand, confident that if she tried to plunge the blade through his palm, his reflexes were sufficiently quick to spare him that injury.
Erica saw not only Viper's disappointment that she had not returned the knife without his having to ask for it, she also felt the heady current of tension that had, on all but a few brief instances, always flowed between them. She felt as though they were at opposite ends of an invisible cord stretched nearly to the breaking point. He was the most fascinating individual she had ever met. He was a handsome man, yet undoubtedly capable of the most hideous sort of violence. His name fit him well, she finally realized. He was as hypnotically compelling as a viper and twice as deadly, and she was his prisoner. With a thoroughly disgusted glance, she placed the knife across his outstretched palm and turned away.
Viper slid the razor-sharp weapon into the beaded
sheath at his beh, not understanding why he felt as though he had just lost an argument when clearly he had won. He was too hungry to dwell on the willful blonde's belligerent attitude, however. The pheasant cooked quickly, and he hoped she would enjoy it as greatly as he was certain he would. Since he knew food would improve his mood, he hoped it would also better hers.
When Viper carried the pheasant over to where she sat to carve it. Erica found it impossible to ignore the flavorful essence borne upon the steam that escaped the crisply browned bird. Her mind insisted stubbornly that she shouldn't eat a scrap of food he provided, but her body swiftly betrayed her and her mouth watered hungrily. Since they had no dishes of any kind, he laid the bird upon the grass and quartered it neatly. Erica managed to hold her tongue until she had taken several bites of the succulent breast he had handed her, but then she could no longer keep still.
"This is delicious, but we cannot live here in the forest like—" she was about to say gypsies when she realized he would probably not know what they were, but before she could think of a suitable substitute, he supplied an appropriate word.
"Indians?" he inquired with a sly chuckle, which grew swiftly into outright laughter, he was so deeply amused by her comment.
"What do you find so funny?" Erica took another bite, still too hun£;ry to throw the half-eaten breast into his face, which was what she felt he deserved. "You can't expect me CO live like this," she scoffed, her anger at his mocking laughter making her bold. "My dress is filthy. I had to sleep on the ground. I would rather have stayed in New Ulm and taken my chances with the others. You have done me no favors by bringing me here!"
Viper did not reply until he had finished the first piece of pheasant and laid the bones aside. "Wash your dress in the stream, and I will cut some branches to make you a bed. I am not used to having a wife. If there is something you need, all you need do is tell me."
"I am not your wifel" The absurdity of their situation proved too much for Erica, and she reached for a plump leg, wrenched it from the pheasant's carcass, and went to sit on the opposite side of the clearing to eat it by herself.
Not about to allow her to turn her back on him again. Viper picked up what was left of the bird and rejoined her. "The forest will provide for all our needs. When winter comes I will build you a house."