Wildest Dreams - By Rosanne Bittner Page 0,8

in which they lay began to fill quickly with water and turn into a stream.

"I've heard how raging creeks can appear in minutes out here after a hard rain," Luke shouted to Lettie. "Be ready to climb out of here if we have to!"

The little trickle began turning into a bigger stream, until Lettie was forced to turn on her back to keep her face out of the water. She met Luke's eyes. Such a beautiful blue. She saw the love there, felt the trust. Did he feel the same about her as she did for him? She knew it would be better if he didn't. She would only have to turn him away. It was the only right thing to do, wasn't it? So why did she feel so safe here, with his strong shoulders hovering over her? Why wasn't she afraid? Why did she desire this man, when she had no right to desire any man?

She had tried so hard not to want Luke, not to care about him. She had even quit letting him take Nathan. It wasn't good for the boy to grow so fond of a man who would soon be leaving them.

All around them the storm raged, people screamed, horses whinnied, and mules brayed. The water deepened, soaking Lettie's hair and dress. But she felt no fear as long as she could look into Luke Fontaine's eyes. Don't feel this way, she told herself. Yet she remained immobile as he came closer then, and it felt like fire was surging through her veins when his mouth met her own in a savage kiss that both of them wanted, needed. He parted her lips, his tongue slaking into her mouth hungrily, his arms around both Nathan and her.

How could she let him do this? And why was she enjoying it? Never had she felt like this. Never since the night of the raid had she even dreamed she could feel this way for any man. But this man had dark hair, blue eyes. He looked nothing like Nathan's father, and there was something in his eyes that told her she could trust him, that he was not just using her, that he loved her.

But just as she was enjoying the feel of his powerful body against her own, the hardness against her thigh reminded her of what she had been so cruelly introduced to three years ago.

She tore her lips away. "Luke, we can't—"

"Why? I love you, Lettie. You've known it for weeks, and I know you love me. I've seen it in your eyes." He grasped her hair, made her face him. "What is it you're not telling me, Lettie? Your husband has been dead for a good three years. Don't tell me you're still mourning him, because I don't believe it! Nathan needs a father, and I already love him as if he were my own child. Is it Montana? Are you afraid to go there?"

"No." She was crying now. He let go of her hair and she looked away again. "It's no use, Luke. You wouldn't love me if you knew."

"Knew what? Tell me, Lettie! Give me a chance to decide for myself."

She met his eyes again. The wind roared, and thunder exploded all around them. "I never had a husband!" She had to yell so he could hear her. "Nathan's father raped me! It was during the raid! His friends held me down while—"

She couldn't go on. The roar of the wind became deafening, and they knew a tornado was ripping past them. Let-tie screamed and buried her face in Luke's shoulder. He held tightly to both Nathan and her, praying the tornado would somehow miss them. It lasted only a few seconds, before the wind began to calm. Moments later the storm had turned to a steady downpour. Luke pulled Lettie out from under the wagon and out of the deepening stream.

"You'd better get in the wagon and get on some dry clothes," he told her. "You and Nathan both. You'll be sick if you don't."

Lettie took hold of Nathan and turned to climb into the wagon. She had not met Luke's eyes since her confession. He grasped her arm. "We'll talk."

"There is nothing to talk about," she answered.

"There's plenty to talk about, like why in hell you think you have to be ashamed of what happened! Did you really think it would keep me from loving you?"

Lettie looked up at him in surprise, her eyes brimming with tears. "No