Forbidden Ecstasy Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Excerpt

  Other Book By

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgement to

  The Last Farewell

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ROMANCE FROM JANELLE TAYLOR

  ROMANCE FROM FERN MICHAELS

  Copyright

  “No more, please, Wanmdi Hota, no more,” Alisha begged as she slipped in and out of consciousness. The green-eyed beauty felt her warrior upon her naked and eager body. His lips were upon her lips, his heart beat against her heart; they were entwined in the arms of love.

  Alisha’s mind swirled in a peaceful, intoxicating sea as Gray Eagle entered her to skillfully—almost desperately—make love to her. She had no strength to deny him as he fiercely and possessively held her in his strong embrace.

  Alisha tossed in a feverish world while Gray Eagle’s fiery kisses burned her willing mouth and branded her creamy breasts. And as she gasped with remembered pleasure, she cried out in her sleep, “Oh why, my love, why? Why did you love me—then leave me to die?…”

  ROMANCE FROM JO BEVERLY

  DANGEROUS JOY (0-8217-5129-8, $5.99)

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  Forbidden Ecstasy

  Janelle Taylor

  For Sheila T. and Sara K., two great friends and proofreaders…

  Acknowledgement to:

  Hiram C. Owen of Sisseton, South Dakota, for all of his help with the Sioux language and helpful facts about the inspiring Sioux nation. Thank you…

  The Last Farewell

  The sun and sand called out to her,

  “Betrayal!” they chanted in fiery unison.

  He was gone forever more, never to return, to reclaim.

  The sun burned his words of defeat into her brain;

  Hot, dry winds lashed at her tormented flesh.

  They jointly mocked her sufferings,

  They chided her naiveté, her folly, her dreams;

  Without warning, the time for turning back had come.

  Her heart was rent by loss, by needless sacrifice…

  At last, the sun slowly sank into the earth’s golden bosom,

  Releasing her from her nightmares and unbearable agonies.

  The zephyr winds blow softly now,

  Releasing her from their stinging cruelty.

  It had ended, as suddenly and painfully as it had begun.

  Her mind pleaded retreat, but her warring heart rebelled,

  Against the torment involved—

  in the last farewell…

  Chapter One

  The waiting seemed endless, threatening. It tugged at Alisha’s senses like an indistinct yet imminent danger. But she did not know why. She was plagued by two needs: a fierce craving for water and a hunger for Gray Eagle’s return. She was uncertain as to which desire loomed foremost in her mind; then she realized the answer was his speedy return, for that would solve all her problems and fears. The heat and glare of the sun were merciless, tormenting. The sun seemed to possess the power to sear both flesh and mind as it intimately caressed the sands with its shimmering fingers.

  Still, an eerie presentiment continued; no, it grew heavier and deadlier as time passed by. Alisha shaded her jade-green eyes, now streaked with red from the sun’s incessant brightness. She studied the horizon. As her eyes slowly searched the landscape, the only movements she could detect were the vacillating heatwaves between the sun and sand which spun mirages and ghostly chimeras. At that time, Alisha would have been overjoyed to see anyone or anything. The feeling of total aloneness inspired brief moments of insanity… or the dread of being in its thrall.

  Alisha’s thoughts tumbled and changed focus as if trapped in a kaleidoscope. She wondered why Gray Eagle had not returned. He had been gone for nearly two days now. She feared he had been attacked by some enemy tribe, perhaps injured or killed. No, her frenzied mind screamed. She would not even think such impossible thoughts. She must assume that something had delayed his prompt return to her side.

  Alisha had already debated the idea of trying to follow his faint trail or to retrace her own path to the Si-Ha Sapa village. She had dismissed both ideas; on the open plains, distance and direction were quickly distorted. She could just as easily wind up in some enemy camp herself or become lost in the vast wasteland. She had no choice but to wait for Gray Eagle or for a messenger from him.

  If only he had left her horse behind or some food and water…but he had said that he needed her horse to carry their supplies on his return trip. He had also told her that he needed to carry the water skins with him in order to refill them. He had stated he would be back within a few hours, but that had been two days ago. Now, here she sat waiting for him, without food or water or a means of escape.

  She laughed softly. Escape…there was no longer any need or desire for escape from him. They were married now. He had vowed his love for her. How very intoxicating those words had sounded: “Ni-ye mitawa; waste cedake, Cinstinna.” Her heart beat happily as the memories of the past months raced wildly through her thoughts. So very much had changed in only a few short months—and now she possessed everything that she had ever dreamed of. She had Gray Eagle, his love, his acceptance, and unbelievably her own acceptance as the daughter of Chief Black Cloud of the Si-Ha Sapa.

  So many events—terrifying, ecstatic, incredible—had led to her acceptance by Gray Eagle and by his people. It seemed as if Fate were charting her new existence. Otherwise, there was no logical explanation for this sudden and exhilarating change in the direction of her destiny. Soon, she and Wanmdi Hota would return to his village, and a whole new and wonderful life would begin for them.

  Alisha told herself she should not worry about his safety. She chided herself; was he not heralded as the greatest warrior of all time? Was he not a living legend to both friend and foe? The mere mention of his name, the sight of him, the deadly tone of his voice could drive terror and respect into the heart of any man who might be tempted to oppose him. He had proven his great courage, daring, cunning, and intelligence numerous times. He was awed by both white men and Indians. No one would dare to resist his intrepid authority. For certain, she knew what it was like to go against his wishes or commands.

  Yes, she could remember what it was like. But the time had come for complete forgiving and forgetting. Surely, in time, all the bad memories would vanish completely. When he was at her side, nothing else mattered. He was her life; he was her future. In truth, Alisha loved Gray Eagle more than life itself.

  Yes, she unwillingly remembered…. Yet, she decided that it was worth the price she had paid, all the pain and suffering, for
she had finally won her heart’s desire. There had been so many days and nights when she had doubted her very survival; yet, she was alive, well, and happy. There had also been countless times when she had faced his brutality and hatred; yet, she had finally won his love and his acceptance. She had changed greatly in these past months. She had learned so many things about life and love, but she had learned so much more about herself.

  She was a woman now, a married woman, and she was deeply in love with her husband. Gray Eagle had taught her love. No longer did it matter that she was white and that he was Indian—at least, it mattered not to them. In fact, it seemed incredulous that the Gray Eagle she had married was the same warrior who had killed her uncle, destroyed her fortress, and ordered the deaths of many whites. It was hard to imagine those same lips which had kissed her so gently and passionately and had spoken such tender words of love to her were the same lips which had ordered her punishment and humiliation so many times in the past. It was as it had been on other occasions, as if there were two men sharing the same powerful body. The Gray Eagle that she knew in private was not the same fierce and deadly warrior that he presented in public. Yet, there was an inseparable intermingling of both men on nearly all occasions.

  Even now, Alisha found it difficult to mentally describe him or to understand him completely. For some unknown reason, she had fallen hopelessly in love with him at their very first meeting. Perhaps that meeting had been the real reason for the ensuing warfare between them. He had first met her as his deadly enemy, as a captive of her people. How cruelly they had treated him! But his bravery and virile magnetism had drawn her to him that very first moment their eyes had met and fused.

  In spite of the heat, Alisha shivered as she recalled that ominous look which had been in Gray Eagle’s stygian eyes as her people had beaten and mocked him. His glance alone should have warned them of the great power he was capable of unleashing. It had gone unnoticed, a tragic error which had cost them all of their lives, all except hers. But then, she had not hated, abused, or taunted him. No, she had sided with him and had helped him at a great personal price. Perhaps it had been predestined for all of the others to die and for her to live. Still, the pain of her losses haunted her. She wondered if she would ever know her full role in the deadly events of the last fateful day of her village…

  She sadly shook her head to clear it of these unwanted reflections. No doubt it was a combination of the heat and her solitude which had brought them to mind. Her eyes eagerly searched the horizon once more, praying he would return and all would be well. She sighed lightly as she hugged her knees to her breasts, the sigh only serving to remind her of her thirst. The dryness of her lips and throat made it difficult to swallow. Never had she been this thirsty in her entire life. Immediately her weary mind challenged her.

  Yes, she had. There were two other times she could recall being this thirsty. There was that day not so very long ago when she had endured the long march from her devastated fortress to the Oglala camp, that time when she had feared Gray Eagle the most. And then there was the time when she had foolishly escaped his camp and his tormenting love, the time when he had rescued her. And both times he had saved her life in the midst of danger.

  Alisha could not permit herself to closely analyze that day when Gray Eagle’s tribe had attacked her people’s fortress, destroying everything and everyone in sight. Even though she now knew his motives for such total and violent destruction, she had to force herself to suppress the bitterness and sadness that these unbidden memories renewed. She could understand both sides of this savage war between the white man and the red. To her, both were right; both were wrong.

  Her troubled mind asked, will there ever be peace and acceptance between them? Will there ever be a joint settlement in this wondrous land?

  She feared not, for the differences between them were too great, the hatred was too deep. Worst of all, she feared that neither side really wanted peace with the other; each only wanted the other banished from this area. She could not deny the fact that her people were the intruders in the New Land. They were the ones who were determined to possess this dreamland at any cost. They could not comprehend that the Indians would never turn their precious lands over to the white man without a bloody fight, a battle in which neither side could win.

  Why must people hate and destroy? she thought. Why must they take what is not theirs? I recall all the many reasons why our own wagon train came West. I know my people’s motives. I sympathize with them and the troubles they left behind. Yet, it changes nothing; the lands belong to the Indians. Don’t they?

  Tears came to her eyes, for she knew that others would eventually come here too. They would also ignore all the dangers and warnings just as her own people had done. They would listen to only the colorful tales of this glorious, untamed land where dreams were supposed to become realities. If they only knew the truth… those same dreams could easily become bloody nightmares.

  There was only one way there could ever be peace; her people would have to learn to accept the Indians as equals. From what she had seen and experienced, it was not so. The whites simply viewed the Indians as wild animals to be killed or to be driven from their hunting grounds. But the Indians were people. They would never submit to such vile treatment. They would strike back in the only way left open to them: war.

  It was inevitable that she would once again be caught in the middle of their wars. Perhaps Gray Eagle had been accurate when he had claimed that she was a white girl with an Indian heart. She had lived with his people. She had come to know their ways; she had accepted them as her new people. She realized that there would be no problems if the constant war with her people and his did not exist. But it did. Dread clutched at her tender heart as she envisioned what would happen when more whites came and another bloody, futile battle began. There could be no choice in her loyalty; she was Gray Eagle’s wife. She would be viewed as an Indian. How she feared the day when her devotion to him would be tested!

  Wanmdi Hota’s wife, the pleasant thought seized her and made her smile serenely. This was the fourth day of their marriage, but she had spent only two of those precious days with him. The day of their joining, she had been so consumed with fear and confusion that the hours had passed in a dreamlike trance. But Gray Eagle had understood Alisha’s mixed feelings of excitement and dread. He had allowed her to escape the Blackfoot camp, only to follow after her with the truth of his love for her. How beautiful that second day and night had been. For the first time since she had met him, he had spoken to her in English! That moment had been the greatest shock of her entire life. It meant that he had always known and heard what was in her heart, had always understood every word that she had spoken aloud. Later, he had sworn her to secrecy about his knowledge of her tongue. Knowing how valuable this weapon was against the white man, she promised to keep it. She was pleased with this news, for it would be so much easier for him to teach her his own language. He had cautiously warned her that they could only speak her tongue in private.

  That first morning when he had overtaken her during her desperate flight from his tormenting love and closeness, they had argued and talked for hours; secrets and desires of both their hearts had been vividly revealed. They were now joined for all time. So many things made sense to her. She could even comprehend what he had done to her in the past and why. Still, a slight resentment remained in her mind against him. So much suffering on her part could have been avoided if he had trusted her sooner. He had recently proven his love and trust by finally revealing his secrets to her. Never again would there be any secrets between them.

  With the lie that she was Chief Black Cloud’s half-breed daughter accepted among the Sioux, Gray Eagle’s honor could be left intact; his high rank could not be challenged or endangered. Only Gray Eagle knew the truth; yet, he had refused to reveal it, to betray her real identity. For only as an Indian maiden could she be accepted as the wife of Wanmdi Hota, son of Running Wolf, and chief of the feared and awesome
Sioux. He wanted her as his wife, not as his white captive. His great desire to have her openly outweighed any feelings of guilt and treachery toward his people and his customs.

  She had been surprised and shocked when he had informed her that no one, not even his father, must learn of her true identity as a mere white girl. He had also told her of Matu’s timely death, that dauntless old woman who had first been her guard; later her friend and helper. It had been Matu’s treachery which had given rise to the fabrication of her identity as Princess Shalee, long-lost daughter of Mahpiya Sapa. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that Alisha had so closely resembled this missing half-breed daughter. She absently rubbed the akito on her left buttock, mentally envisioning its crescent moon and two, small stars: tattoo symbol of her alleged father, the symbol Matu had carved and stained for all time.

  Alisha concluded that such news could mean that only four living people knew the truth about her: Gray Eagle, White Arrow, Powchutu, and herself. It was certain that none of these would ever reveal the truth, for to do so meant dishonor for Gray Eagle and death for her. The pattern had been set; they all had to follow its guidelines.

  Alisha mused, what harm could such an innocent lie do? It can only bring safety, happiness, and acceptance for all involved. I love Gray Eagle. I will not lose him, not now. I won his love at a great price, and I will not give it up. Where are you, my love? I need you….

  Her mind was flooded with memories of their brief life together. They had endured and overcome so many problems. It was only right that they could be together now. They were in love. All they wanted was to love each other, to be happy. Their differences could not possibly matter as much as their love. Nights of heated passion flickered in her thoughts; days of relaxed contentment in his tepee joined them. Theirs was a love which could survive all time. Oh how she yearned for his return!