at him, the shine they held lighting his own.
While she lay atop him, he removed her shirt completely. Her shoulders felt and looked like rich cream, yet no expensive oils had ever been smoothed into them. No luxury had ever been Chickadee's, yet her very simplicity spoke of sumptuous elegance.
He pressed his face into the warm valley between her breasts, his hands curled around their outer sides. "Keely, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever known. And no matter where I go, I'll never find another girl as lovely."
He thought about how many times he'd said those same things to other women. He'd never meant them before, but he did now.
Chickadee warmed with pleasure. That this outlander—this impossibly handsome man—would say such flattering things and mean them, was something she'd never dreamed would happen.
She squirmed downward and rested her chin on his chest. "You say the nicest thangs, Saxon. You must have strangs o' girls back in that Boston city. I bet they line up a-wantin' you to say them thangs to 'em."
"I've no one special waiting for me in Boston, and after knowing you, I can't think of a single girl there with whom I'd like to be doing this."
"You like a-kissin' me?"
"I do." He could have sworn he heard her purr.
"Y'know. I used to thank this was wrong. Mama never tole me nothin' about menfolks, but... Saxon, this ain't wrong. Whilst you kissed me a minute ago, I was a-thankin' on how right it was. It didn't hurt nobody a'tall."
Slowly, as he'd done with her, she unfastened the buttons of his shirt. When his bare chest was revealed, she bent and took one of his nipples into her mouth, her tongue imitating his earlier actions.
Saxon closed his eyes. Desire, hot and demanding, stabbed into him. How he wanted her! How the hell had this happened? Wasn't he the one who was supposed to be in control of this game of seduction? It was his plan, yet Chickadee, at this moment, was holding all the cards.
And it wasn't only that, but guilt was beginning to twist through him too. He'd never had a second thought about what he did to women, but now..."Keely, wait."
Her eyes met his, but her lips stayed on his nipple.
He sat up and pulled her into his lap. "Do you know what's happening between us? What this is leading up to?"
She pulled at the slight matting of hair on his chest. "It don't have to go no further than what we let it go."
"But Keely—"
"How fur do you want it to go?"
He frowned. That was supposed to have been his question. And when he asked it, she was supposed to tell him she wanted to make love. He'd have done as she requested and made her want more. She'd have married him and gone on to Boston. The scheme had been simple, and it should have been easy to accomplish.
So why was he so hesitant to see it through?
His hands went to her cheeks. "Why do you even have to ask me that? Don't you know the answer?"
She nodded.
"Keely," he began, and swallowed whatever was lodged in his throat. "I... you... What do you want?"
She took his hands and held them tenderly in her lap. "Saxon, I don't really know what I want. All's I can tell you is when you look at me in that special way, when you smile at me or touch or kiss me, I git a powerful hankerin' fer somethin' I don't understand."
She pressed his hand into her belly. "It sets in right here. It's a warm feelin', like thur was a spark in thar, but then it gits bigger and hotter, and soon it's like a far a-blazin' all through me. I ain't rightly shore what it is, but I got a feelin' you do."
"I do know what it is. But I—" Some womanizer you are, Sax, he told himself. You've got her right where you want her, and you can't make yourself take her.
"I trust you, Saxon. Jist like you confidenced in me when I tuk you a-huntin' fer that bahr. You knowed I warn't gwine let nothin' bad happen, and I know the same thang about you right now. Iffen you know what it is I'm a-honin' fer, I'll trust you whilst you give it to me. Well, Saxon? Are you
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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