My Savage Heart (The MacQuaid Brothers) Read Free Page B

“You said ‘my people.’ I don’t understand.”
    She was in front of him, her arms spread slightly as if she were blocking his way till he answered her question. Wolf wondered if she knew how easily he could set her aside... break her in two if he wished. He considered telling her, watching as her chin, now set at a defiant angle, began to quiver. But then frightening his father’s bride was not his objective.
    Seducing her was.
    Still, he could not resist a slight taunt, a verbal jab, to pierce the innocent veneer of this woman chosen by the man he despised. He leaned forward till she had to tilt her chin back to look at him. “My people are the Ani`-Yun`wiya , the Cherokee.” His raven brow arched. “Your betrothed’s son is of mixed blood.”
    Wolf watched the delicate line of her throat as she swallowed. She forced her blue eyes not to blink, and Wolf grudgingly admired her ability to mask her emotions. “Well, have you nothing to say to that, you who demanded to know why I was angry?”
    “What do you wish me to say?” Caroline’s eyes locked with his. It appeared her companion was daring her to take issue with his parentage. In truth the only emotion she felt was surprise. She told him so. “Actually, I was more astonished to find that Robert had a son nearly as old as I, than to discover he is part Indian.”
    “No one is ever part Indian ,” he began. Then his voice turned soft, seductive. “And I would guess myself older than you by several years, Your Ladyship.”
    Caroline imagined he was right, but somehow it helped her peace of mind to think of him as she would Ned. In a motherly fashion. Or at least to try. But when he looked at her, as he was now, his dark eyes intense, it wasn’t maternal thoughts that tightened her stomach. Caroline reached out for the carved banister and turned. “’Tis unimportant which of us is the other’s senior,” she said, her voice firm, before lifting her chin and descending to the first floor.
    She nearly added that she was to be his father’s wife, but didn’t. He knew that. She was the one who needed to remember it, and stop imagining intimate looks where none existed.
    The rooms downstairs in the Meeting House were used as offices and courtrooms. There were people milling about the hallway. Caroline didn’t pause until she was again outside.
    The bright sunshine dispelled any lingering sensual draw she felt for Raff MacQuaid. At least Caroline thought it did until she turned toward him. Now that she knew of his mixed blood, she wondered why she hadn’t guessed it before. His skin was dark, bronzed against the snow white of his linen. And his hair, tied back in a neat queue, shone so black and sleek that the sun seemed to pull blue highlights from its depths.
    Caroline blinked and quickly glanced away. Raff MacQuaid was certainly a compelling man, but she had to stop thinking of him in that way. She took the arm he offered, deciding she needed to concentrate on Raff’s father. But he seemed unwilling to offer much information when she asked about Robert.
    “You shall have to form your own opinions,” he said, his tone one that did not encourage further discussion.
    They walked in silence down Water Street until Caroline recognized the Inn where she’d spent the last few nights.
    “I’ve taken the liberty of having your things brought down.” Wolf led her to the small courtyard to the right of the building. There a blackamoor was loading her small chest on the back of a pack horse. “Are the rest of your trunks stored elsewhere?”
    “There is nothing else.” Caroline said the words quickly. If he found it surprising that she traveled so lightly, at least his expression didn’t change. But Caroline imagined it took quite a lot for him to reveal his true emotions. The thought caused a shiver to dance down her spine. His hand tightened on her elbow as he led her to another horse, this one a chestnut mare replete with sidesaddle.
    Caroline