No Other Man Read Online Free PDF

Pulling.
    "Don't bite!" he warned icily.
    "Then let me up!"
    To her
astonishment, he moved aside. She leaped from the bed, heedless that the robe
barely covered her. She raced after the soldiers.
    She
threw herself against the door, fumbling then to find the latch to draw it
open. "Wait! Wait!" she cried out. "Please, you're not listening
to me. Won't anybody help me! My God, I swear to you that I am Lady Douglas.
Please—" She finished the plea with a shriek because she suddenly found
herself wrenched back into the room, away from the door, by the
English-speaking redskin they'd called Hawk.
    Spun
around, she stared into his eyes again. She looked down. His long bronze
fingers held her wrist.
    No.
    The cavalry had come.
    Help had been here!
    "Help"
had watched her on the bed with this man.. .
    She
looked wildly back to the door. "You have to let me by! They have to help
me. They're the cavalry. You're an Indian. My God, what's going on with them?
The entire world has gone insane!" She tried to shake free from his hold.
She could not do so. She slammed her fists against his chest, half laughing,
half crying. "Let me go! I've got to get to them; I've got to make them
understand . .."
    She
broke off, hearing the hoofbeats of the men's horses fading away.
    The cavalry had come.
    And gone.
    "Let me go. Please, let me go!"
    "For what?"
    "So I can get them to help me!"
    He
released her, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke to her next.
    "They're not going to help you."
    "They
will.when they know what's really happening. That you've abducted me,
half—half—raped me! They'll save me from you—"
    "They're
not going to help you and they're not going to save you from me, even if you are Lady Douglas. Especially if you are Lady Douglas."
    She
inhaled deeply, her spine suddenly very straight and stiff. "Why not, damn
you?" she demanded. "Why won't they help me?"
    He
caught her upper arms, pulling her back close to him. /\nd his eyes glittered
now with both amusement and fury.
    '
'Because, my lovely little gold digger, Andrew Douglas is not dead. I am Lord
Andrew Douglas. Your dearly beloved husband."
    "You're
a liar! Lord Douglas is dead. And you can't be Lord anyone! You're an—an—"
    "Indian?" he suggested.
    "Yes! A savage, painted IndianV'
    ' 'That
I am. But I do assure you, I am also Lord Douglas."
    She stared into his eyes.
    Green eyes.
    Oh, God, yes. They were familiar.
    "Damn you, know it! I am Lord Douglas!"
    Green
eyes. Eyes very similiar to a pair she had seen before. Set into an older face.
    Green
eyes.
    They faded to black.
     
    Three
    w ho
the hell was she?
    Staring
at her, Andrew Douglas, called Hawk by both his Sioux kin and white friends,
shook his head. She'd put up a hell of a fight—until his last words had struck
home with her.
    Then
she'd passed out cold. Good thing. Now she lay against the bear-fur cover on
the bed, a creature of ethereal—and, thank God, silent—beauty.
    Deadly
beauty, so it seemed, he thought bitterly. He still didn't understand the
particulars, but it seemed apparent that his father had met this woman. She had
coerced a marriage and had assumed she was marrying his father.
    What had gone on?
    And
what truth could he ever really know? His father was dead.
    She was going to tell him. Exactly what had
happened to her.
    It was
difficult to keep his hands off her. He longed to shake her until he got the
truth out of her.
    But he
managed to keep his distance and tried very hard to be analytical—something he
had gotten fairly good at over the years, being a man split between two vastly
dif-
    ferent cultures. His years at West Point hadn't hurt the development
of his analytical abilities either.
    So again. Who in God's name was she? Where had she come from?
    Any feelings of tenderness that might have been touched in
him by her beauty were stilled by the painful reminder that David, the late
Lord Douglas, was dead.
    Hawk had received word from Henry Pierpont, his father's
beleaguered but