by Aliyah Burke
Native American walked past her and on toward Tempest.
Stopping behind her, he reached for her shoulder only to
hesitate at the last second. “I need to talk to you,” he spoke in a
voice loud enough to reach her over the noise in the bar.
Wiping out the glass she had in her hand, Tempest
closed her eyes and fought for sanity. She’d been berating
herself for the harsh words she’d said to him this morning at
her house. No matter what had transpired, she had no right to
say those things; she didn’t know what the circumstances were
that had kept him out of their lives.
“Tempest?” his charismatic tone flowed over her body.
“I heard you. Just give me a second.” She replaced the
glass, hung the rag on a hook, and shared a glance with Mili as
she turned around. “I’ll be back,” she muttered as she moved
past the Latina waitress.
“Take your time, sweetheart,” Mili chortled after them
as they walked into her office and shut the door behind them.
Tempest walked around her desk and sat down in the
tall-backed black leather chair. She slipped off her sandals and
allowed her feet to rest on the cool floor as she slid forward and
placed her elbows on the desktop.
Maverick looked across the vibrant -colored room at the
woman who sat assessing him in her chair. With a flick of his
wrist, he locked the door behind him then walked to a chair at
the desk.
Every movement of this man was a work of art. He just
flowed effortlessly. Tempest was not blind to all he portrayed.
He sat with a lion-like grace in the chair and stretched his long
strong legs causally out in front of him.
“I have to apologize for my harsh words from earlier
today,” Tempest began only to fall silent at the wave of his
hand and shake of his head.
“Don’t apologize, Tempest. You have every right to feel
how you do. I wasn’t there. And as much as it pains me, I know
you were the one who went through all the trouble, hard times,
and I can never make it up to you.”
“I think if you want to get to know Dakota, then you
should do just that; but I can’t be involved in it. I can’t get past
my anger and it isn’t fair for him to see me being hard on you,
so I would feel better if you just stopped trying to include me
in the ‘get to know’ phase,” she said.
His body exploded out of the chair in a lightning-fast
motion. He spun the chair to the side and stood over her,
dwarfing her with his size and presence. Leaning down,
Maverick put his mouth next to her ear and murmured in a
low, seductive, yet challenging voice, “I’m not going to accept
that answer, Tempest. Mní kte shni yelo.” His lips teased the
sensitive skin around her lobe and she shivered in response to
his touch.
“What did you just say?” she asked in a breathless voice.
“I said ‘I will not go.’ You and I need to get this out of
our system. You need to hear my side and I sure as hell have to
hear yours. So tonight after you close up the bar, I will be
waiting for you at your home. We get this done tonight. I will
be waiting for you my little icamna sapa.”
The second Tempest began to shake her head in the
negative; Maverick clamped a hold of her chin, holding it
immobile. His eyes grabbed hers and refused to let go. A
gravity she’d never seen before from him filled them. “Yes,
Tempest. Don’t test me; I won’t be very happy if I have to come
find you.” He tilted his head closer yet as he dropped his tone
even more. “And I would find you.”
She swallowed. She didn’t doubt that for a single
second. “Okay,” she stuttered. “Tonight after work.”
“Pilámaya ye. Thank you.” His mouth stole down and he
brushed his lips tenderly over hers. It was a kiss similar to the
one he gave her over twenty years ago on the night Dakota was
conceived. Standing, he backed away, still holding eye contact
until he got to the door. There he turned, unlocked the door,
and slipped through with one small glance back.
He left the door ajar behind him and Tempest could hear
the noise of her bar filtering in through the small opening.
Every time he opened his mouth and said something to her in
his native tongue, she got all rubbery and horny. It was
amazing to hear any words coming from him; but when he
spoke Lakota, it only affected her more. He’d whispered gently
to her in Lakota that fateful night and it had turned her to
mush then. Apparently, the years hadn’t hardened her resolve
to that language.
With a sigh, she slipped her sandals back on and walked
out of her office. Maverick was nowhere in sight. Berating
herself for looking, she forced herself to focus on her job.
As she closed up for the night, Mili was the only one left
with her. They walked out together and as they climbed in
their respective vehicles, a feeling of anticipation began to fill
Tempest. Knowing Maverick was waiting for her did strange
things to her insides.
With one final wave to Mili, Tempest drove away from
work. Ten minutes later, she found herself pulling into a small
park. Suddenly, she was nervous about facing him. “Would
you really come find me, James?” she asked the interior of her
Envoy. An image of his stoic face flashed before her and
Tempest knew without a doubt he would.
Putting her car back into gear, she drove home. As she
entered her driveway, she saw a motorcycle parked up by the
garage in the spot her son normally parked his car. Tempest
turned off her engine and sat in the dark for a moment as she
tried to rid her body of the fear, anticipation, and other feelings
that swamped it.
Movement by the door caught her attention and she
looked to see the large frame of James Lonetree unfurling itself
and gliding over to her car. He would be very formidable if he
were angry; he was intimidating now.
He opened the door and leaned over her to undo the belt
that secured her. As his large body was across her, he turned
his face and met her gaze squarely. “I’m glad you didn’t decide
to run.”
“This is my home, and I don’t run.” Tempest said with
more bravado than she truly felt.
Once she was free, he backed out and reached for her to
assist her out of her vehicle. He stood silently beside her while
she unlocked the front door of her house and walked in.
Maverick followed closely and shut the door behind
him. Unlike at the office, where she knew there were others
near by, this time the click of the door was much more final.
Looking around her house, Maverick took in the
Southwest décor. Her home was relatively sparse, unlike most
of the woman he’d known. It was like she only had the
necessities.
His heart dropped lower in his chest as he realized that
her frugal living was because he hadn’t been there to su
pport
her as the father of their child. What did I do to you? “You have a
lovely home, Tempest.” Maverick took a seat on the couch as
she moved further into the room, dropping the keys in a dish
on an end table.
She sent him a small smile. “Thanks. It was my aunt’s
house and she left it to me when she died.”
Standing in another impeccable motion, Maverick
placed his large body behind her slender and curvaceous one.
Setting his hands upon her shoulders, he tugged her back until
she rested upon the solid wall that made up his chest.
“Don’t struggle,” he ordered softly as his grip tightened,
holding her in place where he wanted her.
Tempest let herself sag back against him. For this brief
moment, she permitted the comfort and security he offered. As
his hands moved down her arms, she tingled with mixed
emotions.
She remained still for about one minute before she
pulled away. Without looking over her shoulder, she moved
into the kitchen and began fixing them both drinks. When she
turned around, her gaze landed on Maverick and where he
stood—exactly where she’d left him.
Slowly, she took the glasses and walked back into her
living room. He never moved until she was about to walk past
him. Reaching out his hand, he took the glasses from her and
carried them himself.
Standing and waiting, Maverick watched her sit in a
chair that gave him no opportunity to sit next to her. So he sat
on the couch after placing the drinks on a sandstone coaster
that depicted old cowboy boots.
She’d fixed him ice-cold lemonade and it felt wonderful
sliding down his throat, which seemed unusually dry. “Why
don’t you go first,” he suggested gently as she tucked her now
bare feet up under her in the chair.
Tempest took a long drink herself and then sighed. “To
tell you the truth, I’m not sure where to begin.” Her brown
fingers curled around the bluish-tinted glass. “I went to tell
you, but your parents refused to let me in. Your father
demanded I tell them and they would tell you my news if they
believed it was important.”
Tempest shivered. “Jesus, your father scared the hell out
of me, not that your mother was any better. My parents…well,
my mother, had already beaten me for being a slut and banned
me from the family. My father had arranged for my aunt to
take me. I was eventually officially adopted by my aunt.”
Maverick swallowed and shoved down his anger. He
wanted to reach out with one hand and hold Tempest while the
other wrapped around her mother’s throat and squeezed. How
the hell could this have happened to his beautiful, innocent
little Sarah?
“I confronted your parents the very day I was leaving
the state. I tried to get you to talk to me but every time I saw
you, you went the other way. So they were my last resort.”
Maverick didn’t bother masking the raw pain that crossed his
face as she pressed on. “Anyway, after your parents screamed
and berated me, telling me they had plans for you, I walked
down the drive and climbed into my aunt’s beat-up old car,
and she drove me away.”
Tempest ran her finger along the rim of her glass as she
looked everywhere but at the man in her house. No doubt it
was hard for her to talk about this. “So I got enrolled in school
down here and spent my afternoons and evenings in the back
of B’s doing homework and inventory.”
She shifted on the chair. “After Dakota was born, he
went with me. We always stayed in the back and I did college
work while he did school work. It wasn’t always easy, but we
managed.”
Tempest drained the rest of her drink. “He was a
wonderful child.” She rose and went to a bookcase where she
took a book off the shelf. This time when she sat down, it was
beside the large Sioux in her living room. She placed the book
on his lap and opened it; it was a photo album full of pictures
of Dakota’s birth.
“Dakota was very happy; just look at these pictures.”
Her polish-free fingers pointed to each photo as she moved
down the pages. Under each snapshot was scrolled writing that
told the age and circumstance shown.
Tears began to well up in Maverick’s eyes as he walked
down memory lane and was introduced to the little boy who’d
been yanked from his life. “Tell me about the birth,” his voice
implored.
“What’s to tell?” She gave a harsh bark of laughter. “It
was painful; excruciating, actually.”
Maverick left the photo album alone for a moment and
turned his attention to the woman beside him. “But you had
someone there?” He could hear the desperation in his tone as
he hoped her answer would be positive.
Tempest shook her head, her dark hair flowing about
her face. “Nope. Aunt B had to work that night so she called
the ambulance and had them take me into the hospital while
she stayed at her job. She showed up near the end, after he’d
been taken out of me.” There was no hostility in her voice, just
acceptance.
“Your son was very big. I did my best not to cry and
throughout the whole thing I hoped beyond all hope you’d
show up and hold my hand. I didn’t want to cry because I
didn’t want you to see me with tears. I didn’t want you to see
me as a little kid.” Tempest sat beside him, her eyes closed as
she recounted her memory.
Maverick shook with shame, anger, and disgust at the
events that had led up to this. His eyes glowed with a feral fire
that would have scared anyone looking at him. There were
people who had to pay for this transgression. At the top of the
list was his family.
“I wish I had been there, Tempest. Oh, God, I wish I had
known. I’m the worst man in the world.”
The torment he must have been feeling was obvious to
the woman beside him. She tried to ignore the feelings his
words sent through her, but it was difficult. His admission felt
honest right through to her soul, but she continued with the
recitation. “Money was tight, but we managed. The bar is very
profitable and Dakota got a scholarship for college. He is
extremely smart.” Tempest opened her eyes and waved a hand
toward the bookcase. “I have a few albums there that are filled
with awards and accommodations he’d gotten in school and in
college.”
Abruptly, she stood and left, desperately needing to be
away from the feeling she got from being that close to
Maverick. It was like what she’d always wished for as a child,
him and her in a house together waiting for their son to get
home. But they weren’t a couple, Dakota wasn’t coming home
tonight, and James wasn’t hers.
Eleven
Maverick didn’t stop Tempest from walking away. He
knew she needed some time and space. The version she gave
&n
bsp; him was definitely the shortened one, but at least it was a start.
He remained silent as she pulled more photo albums off the
shelf and dropped them beside him on the couch.
She sat back in the lone chair when she was done.
Suddenly, Maverick was at a severe loss of what to do next. His
instincts clamored for revenge on her behalf, but he knew that
wouldn’t get it done.
How the hell do I make something like this up to someone? To
give his hands something to do, he began flipping through the
albums. Soon he was totally engrossed in the pictures that
depicted the young life of his son.
Tempest got up again, unable to sit still. Leaning against
the doorjamb that separated the kitchen from the living room,
Tempest watched James peruse the albums. His hair shone in
the gentle light of the lamp beside him that also cast a glow on
his coppered skin.
Biting her lower lip, she continued to stare at him. The
years had been wonderful to him. Damn, when she’d known
him in South Dakota, she’d had no idea he would turn out like
this.
He was lean and coiled like a snake waiting to strike.
His eyes pierced right through the soul, like he could see way
more than one wished.
As if he sensed her gaze upon him, he met her eyes.
Tempest tried to look away from his intense stare, but he
wouldn’t let her. A single fluid motion had the photo album
beside him on the couch and him up and coming toward her.
Maverick had tried to ignore the feel of her eyes on his
body; but when he finally looked up and saw the desire she
couldn’t hide from him, he reacted. At that second, there was
nothing but the deep need to feel her form pressed up against
his.
Moving across the room, he watched her eyes grow
wide, but she didn’t back away. Stopping before her lush
physique, Maverick reached out with one hand placed it on the
back of her neck.
His fingers sought out the thick, satiny hair and wound
into it. With a little pressure, he brought her closer. Maverick
settled his left hand at the small of her back, allowing those
fingers to graze the top of her bubble butt.
“I’m going to kiss you, Tempest,” he told her a mere
second before his lips covered her mouth.
It was gentle. It was tender. It was explosive as all hell.
He nibbled on her lower lip before his tongue swept
