not.” She tried to make him understand.
“Oh, baby, you have never been more wrong. You are
my chante, my heart. I’m going to be in your life, yours and
Dakota’s.”
“You don’t know me anymore; and to be honest, I’m not
sure I want you to.” Tempest pushed back from his touch and
managed to open the door to her house. “Listen, James, I think
you’re just feeling guilty for how this whole thing went down.
I’m glad that you and Dakota are beginning to work things out
between you, but like I said before, I’m not part of this deal.”
Reaching one hand out to hold her immobile, Maverick
stared down at her, observing how her skin shone in the
entryway light of her home. “Mitawin, I do feel horrible about
what happened and I will continue to do my best to make up
for it. I also know you don’t believe me.” Rubbing his thumb
across her lower lip, he whispered, “You are so much more
than just ‘part of the deal’ and I will show you that.”
“Goodnight,” she said softly.
Leaning in to brush their lips together one more time,
Maverick mumbled, “Don’t lead him on. He isn’t the man for
you. Nimitawa ktelo. Mitawin.”
Even though she didn’t understand the words he spoke,
the meaning wasn’t all that hard to decipher. “My life, my
choices.” She stepped back into her house and closed the door
gently in his face.
Tempest locked it and forced herself away from the door
because she knew she would let him in otherwise. His image
was implanted in her brain as she slipped in her bed. “Damn
you, James. Damn you for making me feel something for you.”
The next day in the mail a letter was hand delivered to
Tempest. Closing her front door on the afternoon sun, she sat
down on her couch and slit it open. Inside she pulled out a
handwritten note.
Tempest,
This isn’t a bribe. This is not me trying to buy affection, from
either you or Dakota.
I looked into it and this is some money to help repay what I wasn’t
around for, like back child support. I know I owe you both so much
more than this, for I can never repay not being around.
Don’t try to return it to me; it’s for you, Tempest.
I just wish I could have been there.
You are my mitawin, and I won’t abandon you ever again.
Maverick
A cashier’s check fell upon her lap. Tempest picked it up
and almost fainted. The amount was more than she ever would
have dreamed of holding in her hand. “Oh, James. I can’t
accept this.” Tears welled up in her eyes as she held it to her
chest.
“Everything okay, Mom?” Dakota asked.
“Fine, just fine.” She sent him a shaky smile to assuage
his fears.
“You don’t look it; are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Tempest looked at her son. “You and James
seem to be getting along; do you know where he’s staying?”
Dakota shook his head. “I have his number. Let me get it
for you.” Tempest buried the letter and remained seated as
Dakota brought her a slip of paper. “Here you go.”
Her hand shook as she took it. “Thank you.”
Instead of leaving, Dakota sat down beside her. “What
aren’t you telling me, Mom? There’s something bothering you.
I know it so don’t bother denying it.”
“I don’t know, Dakota. I’m just confused,” Tempest
admitted.
“Because of my fa…Maverick showing back up?”
“Yes.” She tipped her head back to lean against the
couch. “For so many years, I was able to hide behind my anger
at the injustice of it all.” Tempest paused. “But if he was telling
the truth about not knowing, then my anger at him is unjust.”
“I don’t know what he is up to, but he really does seem
sincere. And you had every right to be mad, don’t start feeling
guilty about that.” He kissed her on the cheek and stood. “I’m
off; I’ll be back later. I have to go see about my paper in
Principles of Cultural Anthropology.”
“Bye,” she said on a whisper as he left the house. For a
brief moment, Tempest sat there and just looked at the letter
that had found its way back into her hand. She closed her eyes
and ground her back teeth.
Shoving up from the sofa, Tempest grabbed the handset
off the charger and dialed the number on the paper before her.
Her foot tapped out a cadence as she waited for the person on
the other end to pick up.
When the masculine voice answered she snapped, “I
need to see you. Give me the address of your hotel and room
number.”
Thirty minutes later, Tempest stood before a pale-green
hotel door. Her hair was swept up off her neck and piled on
her head to allow for maximum coolness. Reaching out, she
knocked twice swiftly and sharply.
The door swung open and Tempest couldn’t help the
sharp breath she took as the magnificent form of James
Lonetree filled her sight. The man was just too fine for his own
good.
He had on a white, button-down shirt, which was open.
She ogled his bared, hairless, and bronzed marbled chest. A
pair of those sinfully tight black jeans cuddled his lower half
just so perfectly.
The way his hair hung about his face brought out the
depths of his black eyes. And right then, those eyes were
focused on her. “Aho,” he uttered while he swung the door
open wider to allow her entrance.
Tempest shoved past his hard, lean body, determined
not to let him affect her. “If that means, hello, then hello back.”
Reaching the middle of his hotel room, she turned back and
glared at the man who had shut the door behind her and was
leaning nonchalantly against it.
“It does,” he conceded as he remained relaxed against
the door. His eyes perused over her form as she stood in his
hotel room. She wore a dark-purple spaghetti-strapped tank
top, white capris and white sandals on her feet. A dark-purple
ribbon secured the knot of hair on top of her head.
“I can’t accept this,” she blurted out as her hand waved
the cashier’s check in the air. “I won’t accept it.”
Crossing strong arms over his chest, Maverick bit back
his initial response of running over to her. “You will,” he stated
calmly.
Her eyes grew large with disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m
standing here having an argument with you. I’m not taking
this, end of discussion.”
With a seamlessly effortless motion, Maverick pushed
off from the door and flowed towards her. His eyes grabbed
onto and held hers tight as he grew closer and closer. Each step
made with pure, jungle-cat ease.
His large presence dwarfed her and she moved
backward until she could go no further because of the wall
behind her. Maverick spread his legs shoulder-width apart and
watched her, chiseled arms still crossed before him.
Tempest held out the slip of paper between them, almost
like a buffer. He ignored it and just stared at her. “Would you
take this?” Her words were sharp and a bit breathless.
“No,” he said as he shook his head.
“Fine! I’ll just leave it on the table.” A solidly structured
bronze arm stopped her.
“No, I don’t think you will. That’s for you.” He shifted,
placing his other arm on the other side of her. Maverick
lowered his face closer to hers. “But you were right about one
thing.”
He saw her swallow hard, as if to regain control of her
body’s response to him, Tempest managed to ask, “What was
that?”
“That it was pointless to stand here and argue about the
money.” His ebony eyes caressed her face. “Especially when
there is something much more exciting I want to do with this
luscious vixen who happens to grace my room.”
Even as tremors rocketed through her body at his words,
Tempest was determined not to give in. “I didn’t come here for
a roll in the sack, James,” she ground out.
“Plans can change,” he taunted.
“Not mine.” She pushed against his chest, fighting the
temptation to allow her fingers to dance all over his smooth
chest. “Do you mind moving?”
“Icamna sapa, I’ll move all day and night with you.
Especially if I’m inside you.”
Tempest licked her lips and tried to ignore the dampness
that flooded her body. “Would you stop?” she asked.
Lowering his face even closer, he whispered, “Stop
what?”
“Speaking to me in words I can’t understand.” Tempest
seemed to have forgotten that her hands were plastered against
his rock-hard pectorals.
“Did you want me to translate?” His voice dropped
lower as he moved his head to the side of her neck, inhaling the
scents that made up Tempest. “Or do you just have an aversion
to my native tongue?”
“Don’t be absurd, James, I don’t have a problem with
your tongue.” Tempest’s eyes widened as she realized what
she said.
His lips moved along the soft skin of her neck. “And my
tongue is thrilled to know that. Believe me.” Maverick shifted
his body and diminished the distance between them even
more. “Why does it bother you?”
Tilting her head to the side, to allow his firm lips better
access to her neck, Tempest shivered. “I don’t like not knowing
what people are calling me.”
One hand untied the ribbon holding her hair up and
Maverick groaned as her hair cascaded down over his skin.
Drawing back, he put one hand on each side of her face. “Baby,
nothing bad will ever come out of my mouth when I talk to or
about you.”
Tempest whimpered as his lips caressed her forehead. “I
have to go.”
“Why are you running from me, mitawin?”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re really ready to know.” Each
word he spoke sent twice the shivers down her spine. The feel
of his lips on her skin combined with the rich sexy tone of his
voice was very nearly her undoing.
“I’m ready to know,” Tempest tried to insist.
His chuckle reverberated through her body. “Not yet,
but soon.” He nibbled his was across her forehead and down
the side of her face, stopping once he reached the hollow of her
throat. Maverick swiped his tongue into the small crevice and
reveled in her body’s response.
Cursing herself eight ways to Sunday, Tempest shoved
once again on the chest she seemed unable to stop touching.
“I’m not doing this with you. You want sex, find someone else
to get it from.”
Maverick allowed the distance between them. He
wanted her, that was no secret; and he wasn’t stupid—he was
well aware she wanted him too. But if she were going to ignore
those feelings, there was no way in hell he was going to coerce
her.
When next they made love, they would both be willing
and with no hesitations. Not to mention a bed. Maverick berated
himself. He’d slept with her twice and neither time had been in
a bed. First time was outside and the second was in a basement.
“I don’t want anyone else, Tempest. So if you aren’t
ready, then fine. I’ll wait.” Maverick stepped back so her hands
fell away from his body. If she kept touching him, his word
was going to go right out the window.
Determined to ignore the effect of those words, Tempest
shrugged it off. Bending down, she picked up the paper that
had fallen from her fingers at some point and held it back out
to him.
Maverick arched a brow and crossed his arms again.
“I’m not taking it back,” he said.
Clenching her jaw, she walked over to the table and set
it down. “Well, neither am I.” Refusing to look at him again,
she headed for the door.
“Tempest,” his low voice reached her.
“What?” She waited by the door with her hand on the
knob. When he didn’t say anything else she glanced behind
her.
Maverick stood by the sliding door to his balcony. His
powerful body leaned against the wall and he lit a cigarette,
watching her. “Take it with you.” He took a long drag of his
smoke.
Opening her mouth to dispute him again, she shut it as
he walked outside and leaned against the railing, his back to
her. His voice reached her easily. “I’m letting you go because
taking the money isn’t. You can go but that money had better go
with you. Don’t make me put it into your account for you.”
He felt Tempest glare at his back but he never turned
around until he heard the door to his room open and shut.
Even then, Maverick still remained out on the small balcony
until he finished his cigarette. He knew he should have walked
her down; but for the life of him, he had no idea how much
more hold he had on his control.
Sixteen
Tempest fumed as she drove. “How dare he order me
around like that?!” Her hand smacked the steering wheel and
she cussed. “What the hell am I supposed to do?” Pulling into
a gas station, she mulled things over while she pumped gas.
Her eyes fell upon the passenger seat where the money from
Maverick rested.
As she waited for her receipt to print, an idea came to
her. “Well, if he wants to get rid of his money, who am I to stop
him?” Climbing back into her Envoy, Tempest headed for her
bank.
An hour later she walked out in decent spirits. Good
decision, Temp. Her mood entirely better as she drove home, she
had a smile on her face as she pulled into the drive. Entering
her house, she realized it was still empty; Dakota was off
somewhere else, so Tempest moved to the kitchen and began to
bake a cake. She needed it after the afternoon she’d
just had.
_
The knock on the door startled Maverick. I was hoping
you’d come back, Tempest. Setting down his book, he walked over
to the door and opened it.
“Yes?”
Dakota stood on the other side. “Do you have a
minute?”
“Of course, come on in.” Maverick swung the door open
and gestured for his son to enter. Good thing you kept your mouth
shut, man. “What can I do for you?”
“Aren’t you going to ask how I knew where you were
staying?”
The attitude wasn’t lost on Maverick. “Should I?”
Shutting the door behind him, he walked back over to his bed
and sat down on it.
Dakota tried to glare at the man but found it was even
harder than staring down his mother. There was a blankness in
these eyes that scared him. “Maybe you should,” Dakota
snapped, even more irritated now that he had to look away
from his father’s stare.
Leaning back against the wall, Maverick reached for and
lit a cigarette. “Okay. How did you know where I was
staying?”
“You smoke?”
Exhaling, he nodded. “You plannin’ on answering the
question you wanted me to ask?” While he was ecstatic he had
a son, Maverick was only going to let one person get away with
being short with him, and that was Dakota’s mother. Not him.
“No.” Dakota sat down in a chair and looked around the
room. “Not much in the way of looks.”
Maverick remained silent, just smoking his cigarette as
he watched his son. My son. Although, I don’t know if the attitude
he gets is from me or his mother.
The silence stretched on. Maverick, perfectly used to
waiting, had no intentions of breaking it first. Dakota began to
shift uncomfortably as the length increased.
The ringing of a cell phone broke the quiet. Maverick
opened his phone and answered. It was his parents and so he
switched over to Lakota. As the voice on the other end
continued rambling on, Maverick noticed the interested look on
his son’s face.
Switching back to English, Maverick said, “I have to go.
My son is here and I want to talk to him. Goodbye.” He
snapped it shut and held Dakota’s gaze. “I’m getting hungry;
care to join me for dinner?”
Dakota pursed his lips as though the question took a
great deal of thought for him. Finally on a long-suffering sigh,
he nodded. “Sure, I guess.”