Page 60 of Native Hawk
“Miss Hattie will give you back your coin. I am certain one of the other ladies would be happy to—”
“I don’t want one o’ the other ladies. I want you.”
“But that is the point,” she said, looking miffed. “You donotwant me, not in that way.”
He couldn’t argue with that. It was what he’d said. But it sure as hell wasn’t what he meant.
“Cat, you don’t know what you’re gettin’ yourself into. I can’t let you throw away somethin’ as precious as…as your virginity…to some fumble-fingered roughneck. I just can’t let you do it. Iwon’tlet you do it.”
He could almost see steam coming out of her ears.
“You are not my father,” she bit out. “You do not get to do the bossy with me. I am my own woman. I will do as I wish.”
She wheeled with a sassy flip of her hair. When she reached for the doorknob, he panicked and did the first thing he could think of to keep her from opening the door. He threw a pillow at her.
It hit her square in the back of the head.
She gasped in outrage.
His jaw dropped. Shit, had he actually just thrown a pillow at a woman?
Before he had a chance to say he was sorry, she picked up the pillow and flung it back at him.
He got a face full of cotton before the pillow slid down his chest and onto the floor. Stunned, he bent to retrieve it, formulating an apology in his head. “Aw, Cat, I’m so sor—”
He never got to finish it. Like a mountain lion, Cat charged at him, giving him a hard shove that knocked him backwards onto the bed.
But she wasn’t done. She snatched the pillow out of his hands and began battering him with it.
“Wait!”
The pillow hit his shoulder.
“Cat!”
It hit his chin.
“Hold—”
It hit his nose.
He defensively threw his hands up and, after the fourth blow, dug his fingers into the fabric. When she yanked it back for another attack, the seam split.
Downy white feathers spilled forth. Still she continued to pummel him with what was left of the pillow, strewing feathers everywhere.
He sneezed, startling her for an instant, but she immediately resumed her punishment.
He finally grabbed the second pillow from the bed and defended himself. He caught her on the hip, then the shoulder, then the head. Each time she squealed with rage. But still she fought.
“Stop!” he finally commanded. It was clear she wasn’t going to win this fight. She was almost out of feathers. “Stop it, Catalina!”
“No!”
She tried to seize his pillow then. For one moment, they engaged in a fierce tug-of-war. Then the seam on the second pillow burst. Feathers filled the air like a hatching of white moths.
Still stubbornly clinging to the weapon and vying for ownership, they tore the pillow in half, continuing to flail at each other with the scraps of cotton.
Drew finally decided to put an end to the fight, mostly because he knew who was going to have to clean up the room. While she continued to beat at him, he dropped what was left of his half of the pillow and seized her by the wrists.
