Chayton's Tempest (15 page)

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 support

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