Witch Dance Read Online Free PDF

getting winded, and here she was, wallowing around in his arms, getting goose bumps listening to his voice . . . and getting ideas besides.
    “Of course I’m all right.” She sat straight up, intending to act efficient and intelligent as befitted someone who had earned the right to be called doctor. But then she saw him close up. And she nearly swooned.
    He was more man than she’d ever seen. And every gorgeous naked inch of him was within touching distance.
    For all he seemed to care, he could have been bending over her in a Brooks Brothers suit.
    “What impulse sent you into the river?” He squatted beside her with both hands on her shoulders, and she’d never felt skin as hot in her life.
    “I thought you were drowning.”
    His laughter was deep and melodious, and as sensual as exotic music played in some dark corner of a dimly lit café where lovers embraced.
    “I am Chickasaw,” he said, as if that explained everything.
    “Well, I’m human and I made a mistake.” She pushed her wet hair away from her face. “Why can’t you just admit you made a mistake, staying under the water so long, I thought you were going to drown?”
    “You were watching me?”
    “No . . . Yes . . .” His legs were powerful, heavily muscled, bent in such a way that the best parts of him were hidden. He leaned closer, intent on answers. How did he expect her to think straight with his leg touching hers like that? “Not deliberately,” she said. “I was on a picnic. How did I know you’d be cavorting about in the river without any clothes on?”
    He searched her face with eyes deep and black. Then he touched her cheeks, his strong hands exquisitely gentle.
    “I’m sorry I ruined your picnic.” Ever so tenderly his hands roamed over her face. Breathless, she sat beside the river, his willing captive. “You’ve scratched your face . . . here . . . and here.”
    Until that moment she hadn’t known that every nerve in the body could tremble. Now she could attest to it as a medical fact.
    “. . . and your legs.” He gave her legs the same tender attention he’d given her face. She would have sold her soul to feel his hands on her forever. “I have remedies for your injuries.”
    Oh, God. Would he kiss them and make them well? She almost said it.
    “I can fix them. . . .” How? She could barely breathe. “I’m a doctor.”
    “You came to Tribal Lands to practice medicine?”
    “You doubt my word?”
    “No. Your commitment.”
    “Is it because I’m white that you think I’m not committed, or because I’m female?”
    “Neither, Wictonaye .” In one fluid movement he stood before her, smiling.
    And in that moment her world changed. Colors and light receded, faded until there was nothing except the bold Chickasaw with his glowing, polished skin and his seductive voice that obliterated every thought, every need except the most basic . . . to die of lust. Sitting on the hard ground, looking up at her nameless captor, she wanted to die in the throes of passion.
    She stood on shaky, uncertain legs. Clenching her fists by her side, she faced him.
    “If you’re going to call me names, use English, please.”
    “ Wictonaye . . . wildcat.”
    “I’ve been called worse.” Would God forgive her if she left right now? Would He give her the healing touch and allow her to save lives if she forgot about her lust and focused on her mission?
    She spun around, then felt his hand on her arm.
    “I’ve been rude. It’s not my way”
    “Nor mine.” She grinned. “Except sometimes.”
    “You tried to save my life, and I don’t know your name.”
    “Kate Malone.”
    “Thank you for saving my life, Kate Malone.” His eyes sparkled with wicked glee. She’d never known a man of such boldness . . . nor such appeal. “I’m Eagle Mingo.”
    “Next time you decide to play in the river, Eagle Mingo, be more careful. I might not be around to rescue you.”
    She marched toward the bluff, thinking it was a good exit, until he