have to come. She had so terribly much at stake!
Scrambling to her feet, she hesitated. The hand-sewn gown lay strewn at the foot of the bedding. Whitney impulsively pulled off her clothing, ripping at the pearl snaps in her haste, and quickly put on the white gown. A supple swing brought her to the ground, and she peered anxiously down the pine path to the lake. Was that the way he had gone? A wraith in white beneath the moonlight, Whitney started down the path, terrified but determined. The trees, which offered gentle shade in the daytime, were a sinister refuge for macabre creatures in the night.
She started running as she neared the lake, praying that he would be there, praying that he wouldn’t reject her. She stumbled from the trees and a sob escaped her as she fell to her knees before the water. He was there, sitting on the rock, watching the moon play on the water.
“Whitney!” He was beside her in a second, drawing her protectively to his side, his anger erased by concern. “What happened? What’s wrong? Are you hurt? My grandmother—”
“No, no,” Whitney gasped, burrowing her face in his neck. “Nothing is wrong, nothing happened. Morning Dew is fine. I—I wanted to talk to you, and I frightened myself in the trees.”
“Oh.” She felt his chest contract as he expelled a breath of relief. Then his hands were over her head, crushing the soft wings of her hair as he tilted her face upward. “What did you want to say that was so important?”
Whitney’s mind went blank and she watched him with dismay. She had to talk or he would completely lose patience with her! “I don’t know where to begin,” she murmured unhappily.
“They usually do suggest that you begin at the beginning,” Eagle said with a gentle grin. “Let’s sit by the shore. Maybe if you watch the water, it will help.”
He led her to the water’s edge and they lowered themselves to the grass and sand shore. The effect was lulling, Whitney thought, as she cast her eyes over the luminescent star glow of the water. Eagle was beside her, but he didn’t touch her. He was quiet, watching the water also, waiting with soothing patience. Whitney glanced at him, then returned her stare to the water.
“You really don’t understand—”
“I want to,” he interrupted softly.
“My problem isn’t you; it’s me. I would be a liar to deny I felt an immediate attraction to you. I’d also be a liar to say I’ve sometimes thought you weren’t … good enough for me.” Sucking in her breath to begin again, Whitney kept her eyes studiously in front of her. If she were to see his crystal gaze now, she would falter; she would not be able to go on. She was going to try to say things she had kept submerged from her own thoughts. “I—I think there is something wrong with me, although I don’t know what a technical definition would be. I didn’t know it until I was married. I guess I expected to get something out of sex, and then—then Gerry—my husband …” Whitney broke off, crunching her lip.
“Damn the man!” Eagle exclaimed, his anger a raw thing, explosive. “What did the bastard do to you? Did he hurt you, Whitney?”
Whitney glanced at him quickly with surprise. “Oh, no!” she explained quickly. “Gerry isn’t a bastard. He’s a very nice man. He never even raised his voice to me. It wasn’t that …”
Eagle’s dark brow knitted high above his eyes. She was trying; she was really trying. Breathing deeply to hold his impatience and perplexed curiosity in check, he told himself he must speak and move very slowly. She had to be led along on a very tender line. “What then, Whitney?” His voice was nothing more than a soft urging on the breeze.
Her eyes flashed to his apologetically. “I guess I was brought up to be the Miss Virginia you tease me about. My entire life was set up for me. I went to private schools, then the University of Virginia. When I graduated I fell in with what was expected of me.
Scrambling to her feet, she hesitated. The hand-sewn gown lay strewn at the foot of the bedding. Whitney impulsively pulled off her clothing, ripping at the pearl snaps in her haste, and quickly put on the white gown. A supple swing brought her to the ground, and she peered anxiously down the pine path to the lake. Was that the way he had gone? A wraith in white beneath the moonlight, Whitney started down the path, terrified but determined. The trees, which offered gentle shade in the daytime, were a sinister refuge for macabre creatures in the night.
She started running as she neared the lake, praying that he would be there, praying that he wouldn’t reject her. She stumbled from the trees and a sob escaped her as she fell to her knees before the water. He was there, sitting on the rock, watching the moon play on the water.
“Whitney!” He was beside her in a second, drawing her protectively to his side, his anger erased by concern. “What happened? What’s wrong? Are you hurt? My grandmother—”
“No, no,” Whitney gasped, burrowing her face in his neck. “Nothing is wrong, nothing happened. Morning Dew is fine. I—I wanted to talk to you, and I frightened myself in the trees.”
“Oh.” She felt his chest contract as he expelled a breath of relief. Then his hands were over her head, crushing the soft wings of her hair as he tilted her face upward. “What did you want to say that was so important?”
Whitney’s mind went blank and she watched him with dismay. She had to talk or he would completely lose patience with her! “I don’t know where to begin,” she murmured unhappily.
“They usually do suggest that you begin at the beginning,” Eagle said with a gentle grin. “Let’s sit by the shore. Maybe if you watch the water, it will help.”
He led her to the water’s edge and they lowered themselves to the grass and sand shore. The effect was lulling, Whitney thought, as she cast her eyes over the luminescent star glow of the water. Eagle was beside her, but he didn’t touch her. He was quiet, watching the water also, waiting with soothing patience. Whitney glanced at him, then returned her stare to the water.
“You really don’t understand—”
“I want to,” he interrupted softly.
“My problem isn’t you; it’s me. I would be a liar to deny I felt an immediate attraction to you. I’d also be a liar to say I’ve sometimes thought you weren’t … good enough for me.” Sucking in her breath to begin again, Whitney kept her eyes studiously in front of her. If she were to see his crystal gaze now, she would falter; she would not be able to go on. She was going to try to say things she had kept submerged from her own thoughts. “I—I think there is something wrong with me, although I don’t know what a technical definition would be. I didn’t know it until I was married. I guess I expected to get something out of sex, and then—then Gerry—my husband …” Whitney broke off, crunching her lip.
“Damn the man!” Eagle exclaimed, his anger a raw thing, explosive. “What did the bastard do to you? Did he hurt you, Whitney?”
Whitney glanced at him quickly with surprise. “Oh, no!” she explained quickly. “Gerry isn’t a bastard. He’s a very nice man. He never even raised his voice to me. It wasn’t that …”
Eagle’s dark brow knitted high above his eyes. She was trying; she was really trying. Breathing deeply to hold his impatience and perplexed curiosity in check, he told himself he must speak and move very slowly. She had to be led along on a very tender line. “What then, Whitney?” His voice was nothing more than a soft urging on the breeze.
Her eyes flashed to his apologetically. “I guess I was brought up to be the Miss Virginia you tease me about. My entire life was set up for me. I went to private schools, then the University of Virginia. When I graduated I fell in with what was expected of me.
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