Lovestorm by Judith E. French

Eliz-a-beth.
    Even so, he had been patient, teaching her the ways of the people and letting her come to trust him. Night after night, he had lain awake listening to her soft breathing with the blood running hot in his veins. His desire for this Englishwoman was great, but he knew she must come to him of her own will.
    The night they had watched the gray vixen and her cubs, all was changed. Eliz-a-beth had come into his arms. He had seen the longing for him in her eyes, eyes the color of a stormy sea. He had wanted her as badly as he had ever wanted anything in his life, wanted to carry her to his sleeping platform and share the joys of the mat with her.
    Cain dove again, swimming with powerful thrusts of his legs to the bottom of the sea. A school of fish swam around him, moving with infinite grace. A larger shadow, perhaps a skate, hovered close to the sand. Cain swam until it felt as though his lungs were bursting, then at last he broke the surface and sucked in great mouthfuls of air.
    â€œI have waited long for you, Eliz-a-beth,” he shouted above the crash of the surf. “Now I have made you my wife, and I will wait no longer!”

Chapter 8
    â€œE liz-a-beth.” Cain crouched to enter the wigwam a short time later. “We must talk.”
    She raised her head and stared at him. “Yes. We must.” She swung her feet off the edge of her sleeping platform and sat up; her eyes were swollen and red with weeping, and her hair was plaited in one untidy braid that hung over her left shoulder.
    Cain smiled as he thought how beautiful she was. “You look like a sleepy child.”
    â€œStop it! Don’t try to charm me. What you did was wrong. Don’t you realize that?” Her eyes darkened with anger. “You can’t force me to become your wife.”
    Cain took a few steps toward her and she stiffened. Immediately, he crouched down. “Be it wrong to love you, Eliz-a-beth?”
    â€œYes, if it makes you hold me prisoner and try to trick me into marriage.” She rose to her feet. “I’m not an animal, Cain. You can’t trap me and hold me against my will.”
    His voice deepened. “You were promised to me in a vision. I took you from the sea.”
    â€œIt was your vision—not mine!” She drew in a shuddering breath. “You treat your grandmother with honor, but what about me?”
    Cain winced at her harsh words. “You do not understand. I would never force—”
    â€œYou’re forcing me now! I’m English, can’t you get that through your thick head?” Angry tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and she blinked them away. “I’m not an Indian, and you aren’t English.”
    â€œCocumtha was born white, but she became one of the true people.”
    â€œIf she is the real Virginia Dare, she was a baby when she went to live with the Indians. She never knew any other life. I have! Don’t you understand? ”
    He swallowed, struggling for composure. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. They were wed. Eliz-a-beth was supposed to throw herself into his arms, to let him touch her in the ways of a man and woman, to touch him. “You would have me take you to Jamestown so you might join with another man?”
    â€œYou must. If you hold me here, I will hate you for the rest of my life.”
    Cain’s vision blurred as he turned away and left the wigwam. His stride lengthened, and he broke into a run, inhaling deep breaths as his feet flew over the hard-packed sand at the ocean’s edge.
    She is mine! I cannot give her up! He continued to run, staring with unseeing eyes at the beach ahead of him. Sweat beaded on his forehead and chest; the sinews in his powerful legs ached with the strain.
    Tawny sandpipers fluttered up in alarm as the man raced past them, and gulls screamed and wheeled over his head. He ran on, welcoming the pain of tired muscles, glad for anything that would