For a long moment he looked into her eyes, enough of a hesitation that she wondered if he’d forgotten just how close she was. She could smell his musky odor, feel the warmth from his body. He reached out with his other hand and ran his fingers down the glossy black length of her hair.
“You are dangerous,” she whispered. “I didn’t think you’d look at an older woman.”
“You fascinate me.” His fingers were twining in her hair now. “I never met a woman who could see things as clearly as I do.”
“I’m my mother’s daughter.” Shell Comb taunted him with a smile and slipped agilely out of his grasp. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that was desire in your eyes.”
“How do you know it isn’t?” He remained where he was, watching her check the stones in the center of the fire.
She used a stick to roll one of the stones out and dripped water onto it. The droplets exploded in white steam. “I’d say this is hot enough, wouldn’t you?”
A wary smile bent his lips. “You and fire seem to have a lot in common.”
“Men have burned themselves on me before.” She used two sticks to lift a white-hot rock. “Would you raise the door hanging?”
He held it to the side, allowing her to slip into the dark interior of the sweat lodge. As she entered, she brushed him with a hip, just enough pressure to tease. One by one, she carried the hot rocks inside, piling them on the dirt where they glowed like ruddy eyes. Finally, she picked up the water pot, filled by the slaves, and set it inside.
He watched her every move the way a hunter did a deer. “So this is’ the dance?”
“The dance?” She looked up at him as she lifted a shell necklace from her shoulders.
“The one you and I shall dance,” he said flatly, his expression revealing nothing. The forked eye tattoos gave him a predatory look.
She stepped up to him, gaze inquiring. “Are you up to it?”
“Am I… ?” He laughed. “You asked me to walk with you, told me you had things you wanted to discuss. Very well, here I am, cold, nearly shivering, and you want to use the sweat lodge? Why do I think you had all of this planned? It couldn’t be the fire, the water ready and waiting.”
She flipped her long hair over her shoulder. “I need several questions answered. First, I need to know if I attract you as a woman does a man. I think I just saw that in your eyes.”
“Yes, you did. You’re no fool, Shell Comb. Neither am I. You said ‘several questions.” Where is this going?”
“You can’t marry a corpse, and I don’t have any other daughters.”
“Then why didn’t you simply ask if I would marry you?”
She cocked her head. “I don’t marry just for the good of the clan, or simply to obtain an alliance. I’m worth more than that, and I know it.”
“Ah, the hot-blooded Shell Comb.” His expression reflected appreciation. “Does that bother you?”
He shook his head, stepping close. “On the contrary, I respect that quality in you. You will not be taken for granted. I pity the poor man who does.”
She ran her hands over his muscular chest and watched his eyes widen. “Pity them all you want. I’m here with you, and they, well, they’re somewhere else. Without me.”
His hands were on her again, sliding over her shoulders and down her sides to the swell of her hips. She could see the pulse quicken in his neck, sense the tension in his chest as his breathing increased.
“So,” she whispered as she fingered the rising hardness beneath his breech clout “even an old woman like me can stir your passion.”
“I’ve never thought of you as old,” he said hoarsely.
She led him to the doorway. “I had my slaves place several blankets inside. No one will disturb us.”
“I still haven’t said I’d marry you.”
“Nor I you. Marriage is a broad and deep territory.” She looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Shell Comb doesn’t just marry a man—even if he’s called Great Tayac. Before I agree to this, I have to know if you can satisfy me. I’d hate to grow bored with you.”
“And I with you.” He removed his bear hide cloak, peeled off his leggings, and tugged his breech clout down. “For all of your looks, you might have dried up inside.”
Shell Comb slipped out of her dress, standing before him, a provocative tilt to her hips. “Does this look like an old woman to you?” And she laughed as she followed him into the darkened interior, her body alight with the thrill of a new conquest.
Shell Comb sat cross-legged in the darkness beside Copper Thunder. The stifling heat worked into her flesh. Sweat trickled across her naked body. The lovemaking had been good. He’d met the challenge, joining with her no less than three times to prove his virility to her. But while he’d demonstrated stamina, he hadn’t exactly been imaginative.