by Dahlia Rose
She kicked her legs and pushed off his back. The blanket that had covered him lay in a heap where she’d sat. She stared down at his bare ass, watching his cheeks flex as he climbed the embankment. “Dude, your junk is flapping in the wind.”
“It is and no doubt you are the envy of every woman driving past us.” He stalked toward the Jeep. A car horn blared. He set her down on her feet by the passenger door. “I told you.”
Lettie looked to the side and twisted away from him as he hauled the door open. She jumped into the seat, keeping her eyes averted. A truck breezed by, buffeting the vehicle and it rocked on its axles. She peeked at him from beneath her lashes. A tingle of frustration skittered through her. The door blocked her view, and she couldn’t see past his navel.
“Look now or later, doesn’t matter to me.” He slammed the door and chuckled before trotting around the grill.
* * * *
They passed the small green-and-white tin sign that welcomed people to the Supai Indian Reservation. He glanced at Leticia’s profile. Her jaw was clenched and he resisted the urge to reach out and caress her cheek. Confusion tainted with anger rolled off her in waves. She hadn’t spoken since he’d started driving. He was going to the casino. With so many shifters around, she would be safe until he could figure out who the hell was gunning for his people. Instead he stayed on the dirt road that led to the canyon where he’d built his home. Before he thrust her into the middle of the scarcity, he needed to explain a few things about his tribe and her new role in it.
He also needed to call his dad. The old man could pave the way for him with the elders when the time came for him to introduce Leticia as his mate. He wasn’t just sheriff but next in line to be chief of his tribe, and he expected some of his brethren to reject his chosen. Jace tightened his grip on the steering wheel. As if he had a choice. The Great Spirit Goddess laid the smack down on his ass and he was left to handle the rest of his claiming. He nodded to himself. Damn, but the Goddess had good taste.
Sheer rock walls closed in around the vehicle as they drove through the gorge. He took a tight turn through a crack barely wide enough for the Jeep to pass through. The side mirror scrapped the stone and sparks flared. Within minutes the narrow gulch opened into a wide chasm surrounded by smooth granite sides as high as the eye could see. He parked next to the old truck he used for tribal business.
Jace twisted in his seat to face her. “Welcome home.”
Leticia blew a breath. “Phew, this dream is a doozy.” She tilted her head out the window and looked up. “Where do you live? In a cave?”
Her dry tone made him smirk. His mate was a spitfire. “Something like that.” He pulled the lever and the door swung open. “Do you plan to stay out here in the heat and sulk?”
“We are in the middle of a gulley.” She spoke through clenched teeth. “It’s not that hot.”
“I’m well aware of where we are.” Jace prowled around the rear and waited by a crevice.
After a few moments he heard the familiar creak of her door. She emerged from the other side of the vehicle with a look of disbelief on her face. Her gaze touched on various areas around her. She rocked on her toes and stuffed her hands in her pockets.
He knew what she was seeing. From her position it looked like he stood before a crack in the stone. She wouldn’t see past the illusion unless she was standing right in front of it. There were actually two rock walls converging together to appear as one. The space behind the barriers was shaded by a low cliff overhang that not only cooled the alcove but also hid it from any aerial observations. He found the spot as a teenager and marked it as his home. He knew even then it was the perfect place to nest. Jace disappeared behind the lip and listened to her gasp.
At the sound of her surprise he poked his head out. “Coming?”
“It has to be the energy drinks.” She sighed as she walked toward him and stopped. “Is that an elevator? Built into freaking boulders!”
“You’re all right and not dreaming.” He took her hand, tugged her toward the chrome doors, and pressed the button.
“Says the sexy naked man with a hideout like a superheroes. You’re supposed to say things like that.” She looked him up and down and her gaze lingered on his shaft.
His blood heated at her perusal and his dick hardened. The elevator doors opened with a whoosh of air. He stepped over the threshold and yanked her inside the cab. She bumped into him and scuttled back when her body slammed into his. There were no buttons on the panels. The compartment was programmed for only one destination.
Seconds later the tiny space opened up into his apartment. The floors were ground down and polished to a glossy shine. Deep pink-and-cream striations riddled the coffee-colored granite. The room stretched out before them and tapered to slim windows set into carved openings. The sun’s rays poured through the narrow windows. The rough ceiling sloped high above them and curved down, creating a continuous barrier the same shade as the floor. Light fixtures burrowed into the ceiling flashed on as they walked farther into the room, illuminating the area. His furnishings were sparse. He preferred to live in an open, uncluttered space and had only the barest of necessities. An enclosed glass-block wall that divided the shower area and hid the toilet from the rest of the space and his cooking area was adjacent to that.
Stainless-steel appliances were tightly tucked into the space that made his kitchen. Holes had been drilled into the ceiling above the stove to connect with a series of crevices so heat and smoke would be dispersed from several areas in the vent system. A low wooden table was carved from a dead tree he felled not far from his home. It was surrounded by large colorful throw pillows in rich crimsons and dark oranges.
He’d had the remaining timber cut into planks and constructed into two very important furniture pieces. One was a double king-size platform to place mattresses on. The bed sat in the center of the room. He wanted to be comfortable but also needed to make sure if and when he found his mate that she would feel safe and secure. Heavy coverlets draped the elevated mattresses with more oversize pillows strewn haphazardly across it.
The other must-have for him when he was outfitting his home was tucked in the shadows of a dark corner. A wide wooden swing was bolted into the ceiling. It was a bit of whimsy in his otherwise utilitarian home. A lot of jokes had been made when he had the architect include it in the plans. Old Indians were like old refrigerators, they couldn’t hold water. Once word leaked out about the swing from the construction crew, he was the butt of several jokes. But he knew without a doubt his gut instinct to have it installed was right. He saw years of play in his future.
Her shoes squeaked on the floor as she strolled deeper into his home. He watched as she paced his space. Staring at her, he knew with certainty she was his. Her energy seemed to resonate through the apartment. He cupped his cock and quelled his desire, reminding himself he needed to talk first. They had years. His condor lifted its head in his mind and he shook it in denial. Primitive urges would have to wait.
“Leticia.” He quietly uttered her name, and the sound carried through vast room.
Her head snapped up and she held his gaze. “Jace?” She pursed her lips. “I even like the name I came up with. Man, this dream is epic.”
“Okay.” He marched past her and sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him.
“Not even in my fantasies am I that easy,” she snorted.
Chapter Three
Christophe Messina held the cell to his ear. All around him the buzz and dings of gambling devices rang through the air. A woman screamed out, momentarily distracting him as he searched the room for the source of the yell. An older lady with fluffy white hair wearing a neon-pink velour jogging suit jumped up and down in front of a slot machine. Lights flashed above the contraption and coins poured from its bottom, toppling to the floor. Several casino staff trotted in her direction. He listened to his contact as he watched the scene unfold.
“Done.” The line went dead.
&nb
sp; He stuck the phone in pants pocket and wiped a palm across his mouth to cover his smile. He’d hired the best and got what he paid for. The assassination of several birds had to have killed at least a few of the Supai Tribe. If his plan worked, they would be more concerned with who was murdering their people and less worried about his offer to lease their lands. Just the leverage he needed to make shit happen. A quick check of his watch dampened his spirit with annoyance. Once again Jerimiah Long Feather was keeping him waiting. He’d purposely made the appointment for late afternoon and yet that damn Indian still wasn’t there to meet him. This was his third time trying to meet with the man and still nothing, although he did get the opportunity to meet the sheriff as he was escorted off the reservation. Maybe his plan was working too well, and instead of a diversion he had put them on the defensive.
Christophe rolled his shoulders to ease the tension tightening his muscles. There was no doubt the fucking chief did it on purpose. He suspected the old man watched him on the closed-circuit television from the moment he walked through the sliding glass doors. No way in hell would he let the damn chief get under his skin. He exhaled and stalked toward the bar, passing the jackpot winner who was scooping up change in her palms to drop in a paper carton.
As he set his briefcase on the bar, he was slapped hard on the back. He kept his feet planted and swallowed the grunt that rose in his throat. Quickly he closed his eyes and reopened them. You’re here for a reason, he reminded himself. He twisted and stared into the alert amber eyes of the Supai Chief, Jerimiah Long Feather.
Jerimiah’s grin was wide, but the sincerity of his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “What brings you back to the res so soon, Mr. Messina?”
“I thought I would give you a moment to rethink my company’s offer. Given that we haven’t actually had a chance to connect, I thought I would give you a few days more to go over what I left with your assistant.” He popped the brackets on his case and lifted the lid. “I brought the contract, if you would like to find us a quiet place to complete our business.”
The older man’s lips curved down. “I thought I made myself clear. We don’t lease acreage out for any reason.” He tapped the top of the case and it closed with a snap.
Christophe raised a leg and placed his foot on the metal lip that surrounded the base of the bar. He laid his arm across the top of the case and leaned forward. “It is the best deal you will ever get for the lands on this side of hell. Messina Corporation’s proposal is very lucrative. You may have a little money now, but if something were to happen to this casino or even your heir, well, there’s a very real possibility you could use resources rather quickly, depending on the situation.” He straightened. “Look at our proposition as a way to set up a rainy-day fund.”
Jerimiah lifted his hand and crooked his fingers. An attendant wearing a tuxedo shirt tucked into a tight black knee-length skirt strutted by with a tray laden with colorful drink concoctions, long-neck beers and, tucked to the side, a sole clear bottle of water. He chose the water, twisted the top, and set it on the tray. She winked and sauntered off. Jerimiah raised the bottle to his mouth and took a long swig.
He set the container down with a thump. “I don’t know who you’re used to dealing with, Mr. Messina. We fought for these lands and will continue to do so, even for this side of hell, as you so eloquently put it. I want you to understand something. Should anything happen to any member of my tribe, I will personally hunt you down and remove your organs one at a time as you watch.” Jeremiah leaned in, stopping short of touching Christophe’s nose. “Once I reach your eyes—” He straightened and shrugged, and his toothy smile reappeared. “I’ll just let you imagine all the torturous things my people and I can come up with. We had a long time to practice how to make a man cry like a bitch. But since you are here, you should have a little fun.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a chip emblazoned with the casino name on it and slapped it down on the top of the briefcase. With a nod the old man picked up the bottle, turned his back, and strolled away, disappearing behind the slot machines.
Christophe stared at his back as he ambled away. A slow fury wove its way through him. His chest heaved as he sucked in a deep lungful of air and stared down at the blue chip. He flipped the marker over and narrowed his eyes. One hundred denoted the piece’s worth. It felt like a physical slap in the face. He didn’t need that fucking Indian’s money, but he did need the bastard’s land. He snatched up the token, spun on his heel, and pushed through the crowd as he marched through the room.
While waiting for the valet, he dug out his phone and dialed his senior partner. The attendant pulled up in his sedan and exited the vehicle, holding the keys out to him. He grabbed them and flipped the guy the chip before sliding into the luxurious cab of his automobile. Tapping the Bluetooth option embedded in the steering wheel, he tossed his case in the backseat and glanced at the attendant in his rearview mirror showing off his tip to coworkers.
“Are the papers signed, son?” Tino Messina’s calm tones filled the car’s interior.
“No, sir.”
His father’s lack of response was deafening. He had one task and he was failing. Anger at the Jerimiah Long Feather warred with the disappointment his dad’s silence insinuated.
“Did the chief even glance at our offer?” Tino sighed.
“No.”
“We need those lands, and if I push this off any longer, those government contracts we worked so hard to obtain will be void because they will go with another vendor. Need I remind you, son, there is no Messina Corporation without those fucking agreements. I don’t care how you do it, but I want those damn papers faxed to me by Monday. That gives you the weekend to make shit happen.” The click ending the call made Christophe jerk.
He glanced out at the landscape through tinted windows. Craggy cliffs rose up out the sand like goliath monuments. Large cacti dotted the plains on either side of the highway like lone warriors preparing for battle against the elements. How anyone could live there was beyond him. The place was desolate on a good day. He’d driven the roads for days and yet he could count on both hands exactly how many vehicles he’d passed in that time. The only thing this waste of space was good for was the dumping ground his company had plans for. He would redeem himself in his father’s eyes.
* * * *
Leticia angled her head and looked around. The vaulted ceilings made the room feel larger, but the way the rough walls slanted into the narrow windows reminded her that she was still in a cave, albeit a very nice one. What the hell was wrong with her? She didn’t know a damn thing about caves. When she woke up she would not eat jalapeños for breakfast anymore, she made the silent vow to herself. She stared down at him. What the hell? Leticia huffed and dropped down next to him. Stalactites hung from high above her like stone icicles in various sizes.
She blinked a few times, willing the room to change, and finally gave up. “Ummm, Jace, gorgeous fake guy that you are, why are we in a cave?”
“I still don’t understand your thought processes. Close your eyes. Do I feel like I don’t exist to you?” He bumped her leg with his. “Nests need to be high and hidden to protect our young.” She turned her head and gazed at him.
“You really need to put clothes on.” She sat up.
“Why? We’re home.” He rolled to his side and slid his arm under his head.
“Clearly I’m not getting enough sex in my life,” she muttered as she rubbed the sides of her face with her hands.
“I can change that.” His voice was closer.
“No doubt you think you can.” She glanced over her shoulder.
He skimmed his fingers along her thigh.
She looked away. It would be easier to focus on anything else other than those stormy-gray eyes of his. Next to the windows beyond the light pouring through them, she could make out a dark outline. The warmth of his touch bled through her jeans, and her gaze was drawn to the way his digits danced across her leg.
Lettie r
ose and his hand fell away. She took a few paces forward. “Dude, is that a swing?”
“It is.” His voice was a low rumble.
“Damn, I’m seriously creative in my dreams. I might be in the wrong field.” She walked toward the apparatus and wrapped her palms around the thick chains, giving them a yank. Tentatively she sat down on the worn wood and giggled when she pushed off the floor with her feet.
She was gently shoved and looked back to see Jace standing behind her. The metal creaked and her butt slid back as she swung higher. The links dug into her palms as she tightened her grip on the chains. She skidded her feet on the surface to slow down. Lettie came to a stop and twisted in her seat.
“If only you were real.” She closed her eyes willing herself to wake up.
“I can be anything you want me to be,” Jace whispered.
She lifted her lids to find him standing in front of her.
He covered her hands with his and leaned forward. His hair fell in one black, silky curtain across his collarbone. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
Softly he brushed his lips to hers. Her mouth tingled as he gently slid his tongue along the seam, urging her to open them. He slid his hands along her arms and up her shoulders to grasp her face. His fingers settled at the nape of her neck. She sighed and he absorbed the sound. He angled his head and his hair tickled her neck. She released her hold on the swing and wrapped a fist in his strands, pushing her tongue against his. Jace released her face and trailed his palms down her figure, over her ribs, and clutched her waist. In one move she was hefted up. She locked her legs around his hips and her other arm around his shoulders as he swung them around. Her calves scraped the chains as he sat. She opened her eyes and leaned back to stare at him.
She cupped his jaw. “I guess there’s no better way to go.”
“Sugar, I plan to take you to heaven, but it ain’t because you’re dying.” He nuzzled her throat, grazing the bite in the crook of her neck.