“I love you, Regan,” he repeated. “The only way I want the ranch is if you’re here.”
“But…you said you were going home.”
He pulled her close and kissed her, cradling her face between his palms. “I am home, Princess.”
She pushed against his chest, wanting to believe him, but knowing what she’d heard. “Yesterday, on the phone…you said you’d handle the partnership long distance and after you took a few days to straighten things out, you were going home. You didn’t want anyone to think you planned to stay.” Her voice wavered at the end, and she had to bite her lip as she drew a fortifying breath.
Understanding dawned in his eyes. “The problem with eavesdropping is you only get half the story.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” she defended, pulling herself up straighter. “You’re the one who left the office door open.”
“Hey, I’m not mad. I’m just saying, next time come to the source.”
“Okay, then why did you say that?”
He held her at arms length, ever careful of her healing shoulder. “I took on a partner with my company. I have to go to Galveston for a few days to finalize the agreement and sign the papers. I don’t want to stay any longer than I have to because I would rather be at home.” His hands tightened. “Home is here...with you.”
When his words registered, all she could say was, “Oh.” Tears flooded her eyes. “I’m sorry. God, I feel like that’s all I say to you.”
He shook his head, lifting one hand to brush a curl from her cheek. “Regan, why are you leaving?”
“I wanted you to have the ranch. It should’ve been yours all along. I thought if I stayed, you’d be reminded every day of the years you lost with your dad.”
“I told you that’s not your fault.”
She lifted her shoulder, still not one hundred percent convinced he meant those words. In the next moment, she decided it was time to stop allowing her inner coward to control her life. Barely daring to breathe, quaking inside, she lifted her gaze to Tripp’s.
The truth of his forgiveness read clear in his eyes, promising a future better than she’d dreamed of. A small sob of relief shook her. He gathered her close, and she buried her face in his chest.
“Rule number eight,” he said gruffly, his chin resting atop her head.
“Yeah?” she asked with a sniff, wiping the last of her tears against his strong shoulder.
“If a man tells you he loves you—twice—you can’t leave him hanging.”
She lifted her face to his with a soft laugh until she saw the unconcealed vulnerability in his blue eyes. Her humor faded away. Rising on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his and whispered, “I love you, Tripp. More than I ever thought possible.”
His mouth captured hers in a fierce kiss. The emotion in his embrace made her heart feel like it’d burst with happiness. When he finally lifted his head again, he murmured, “Man, I am so glad my dad never married your mother.”
“Hey.”
“What? It’s true. For the first time in my life I’m glad I left.”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
He shrugged. “Well, at least something good came out of all of it. In fact, would you take a walk with me?”
She looked down at his bare feet. “Right now? Where?”
“I’m finally ready to lay things to rest with my dad.”
Reggie’s chest tightened, and all she could do was nod. Tucked close to his side, she walked up the hill to the family burial site. Tripp knelt by the grave as the sun rose above the horizon, bathing them in the light of a brand new morning. She rested her hand on his shoulder in silent support. Despite not a single word spoken out loud, Reggie felt the tension leave his body as if he’d released a heavy weight.
When they returned to the ranch yard, he paused next to the arena gate with a grin. “Ready to do this?”
“Really?” she asked hopefully, glancing toward Mason. “You’re going to let him go?”
“Only if you agree to stay and marry me.”
Her heart soared, but she fought a smile and stepped back to punch him lightly in the arm.
“Ow.”
“Well, what the heck kind of a proposal is that?” she admonished.
“Obviously a bad one.”
She put her good hand on her hip. “I’ll make you a deal. A proposition of my own, if you will. You set Mason free and tell me rule number five, and I’ll say yes.”
Tripp groaned. “You gotta be kidding me. Can’t you let that go already?”
“Why in the world can’t you just tell me?”
“Because it’s stupid, and I broke it less than a day after I made it. And I can’t believe you’re negotiating my proposal.”
Reggie couldn’t contain a grin any longer. “It was about me, wasn’t it?”
“You seriously want to know?”
Laying a hand on his chest, she leaned against him and batted her eyelashes. “I seriously want to know.”
He gave an all-suffering sigh, but the effect was ruined when a smile tugged the corners of his lips. “The rule was...I wasn’t allowed to like you.”
Her brows shot up. “Seriously?”
“And I was supposed to keep my emotional distance.”
“And now you want to marry me?”
He grinned, but his eyes remained solemn. “Very much.”
She laughed softly. “Boy, when you break a rule, you really break it, don’t you?”
Tripp shrugged his shoulders. With one arm around her waist, he pulled her up on her toes for another kiss as he reached for the gate latch to set Mason free. “Some rules are made to be broken, Princess.”
~~~
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DEADLY ADDICTION
A violent clash of cultures and nations tests the forbidden love between a Native American man and a white female cop.
When beautiful police sergeant Alyssa Morgan enters his life, Rémi Whitedeer never expects her to upend it. Not only does she have his hormones in an uproar, she's also threatening to take the position he wants—Chief of Police for the Iroquois Blackriver Reservation. But Alyssa is more than a Barbie cop. Her ends-justifies-the-means philosophy, so different from his own, challenges Rémi on every level. With her sharp investigative skills and her fearlessness, she leads Rémi to confront bitter truths about his family and his standing as a man of mixed race within his tribe.
Tall hunky Rémi Whitedeer, of the panty-melting grin and the smoldering green eyes, flips Alyssa's world ass over teakettle. She's always had a laser-like focus on the job, but Rémi proves a constant distraction. His inner strength and sense of purpose strip away the winner-take-all attitude Alyssa wears like armor. Soon she's longing for more--a more that terrifies and intrigues her. If he finds out the fine line she'd walked while undercover, will he still want her? And will she ever find the courage to let him--or anyone--that far in?
When Alyssa and Rémi uncover a drug-fueled scheme involving a biker gang from Alyssa's past and a militant sovereigntist group led by Rémi's cousin, they are forced to choose between their growing love for each other and the lives they've worked so hard to build. Will Rémi and Alyssa have to leave everything behind--even their identities--for the chance of a future
together?
ALSO BY KRISTINE CAYNE
Six-Alarm Sexy Series
Aftershocks (Prequel)
Under His Command (Book One)
&nbs
p; Everything Bared (Book Two) – coming summer 2013
Lover on Top (Book Three) – coming late 2013
In Print
Six-Alarm Sexy: Volume One – coming summer 2013
Deadly Vices Series
Deadly Obsession (Book One)
Deadly Addiction (Book Two)
Deadly Betrayal (Book Three) – coming fall 2013
Other Works
Guns ‘N’ Tulips
Un-Valentine’s Day
www.kristinecayne.com
DEADLY
ADDICTION
DEADLY VICES
BOOK 2
KRISTINE CAYNE
Copyright © 2012 Kristine Cayne
All rights reserved.
ISBN (print): 0984903429
ISBN-13 (print): 978-0-98490342-9
ISBN (ebook): 0984903437
ISBN-13 (ebook): 978-0-98490343-6
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Book cover design by Scarlett Rugers Design 2012
www.scarlettrugers.com
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A year ago, I could only dream of the day I’d be able to share my stories with readers, and now I’m releasing the second book in my Deadly Vices series. It’s an incredible feeling! But I didn’t get here alone.
To Dana Delamar. Your friendship, talent, and generous dedication have turned my writing career on its head. There are no words to express the depth of my gratitude.
To the CherryPlotters, Carol, Cherry, Christina, Ciara, Dragon, Heather, Julia, Kelli, Laurie, Rebecca, and Shelli. The plots we develop are the bones of our stories, and without bones, nothing stands. Thank you, ladies, for the laughs, the support, and the constant cheerleading. You rock!
To Dawn, Josefin, Karen, Marianne, and Sherri. Thank you for making me believe that readers would want to hear Rémi and Alyssa’s story.
To Edith, Janet, Kayla, and Maureen. I couldn’t have asked for more fabulous beta readers. Your suggestions have brought this book to the next level.
To Teiowí:sonte Thomas Deer, Cultural Liaison at the Kanien'kehá:ka Onkwawén:na Raotitióhkwa Language and Cultural Center. Thank you for the awe-inspiring tour of the exhibit and for answering my multitude of questions. The insights you provided into Iroquois culture and customs have made this story much richer. Niá:wen.
To the Kahnawá:ke Peacekeepers, especially Assistant Chief Jody Diablo, Officer Landon Montour, and Officer Gina Deer. The drive-along, explanations, and recounting of situations you've encountered has been invaluable to me. Niá:wen. I hope to see you all again soon!
To Greg Horn, reporter with Iorì:wase: News from the Kanien'kehá:ka Nation. You and your paper are a great source of information about the Kahnawá:ke community. Thank you for helping with translations and for referring me to the Peacekeepers. Niá:wen.
To Sergeante Christine Coulombe of the Sûreté du Québec. Your answers to my questions regarding the Sûreté du Québec’s structure, policies, and the day-to-day duties of patrol officers and detectives made Alyssa a more rounded heroine. I especially enjoyed the detailed visit of the patrol cruiser and testing out the siren. Merci.
Last but not least, my family. To my mother for being the best book handseller ever! To my father for making sure every relative, no matter how distant, knows about my books. To my husband and children for your love and patience. Writing takes a lot of time, but because you know how important it is to me, you put up with far too many quick dinners and dust bunnies. Mwah!
GLOSSARY OF TERMS
Iroquois terms
Haudenosaunee – the Iroquois, or People of the Longhouse
Gayanashagowa – Great Law of Peace
Kwe Kwe – Hello (familiar)
Niá:wen – Thank you
Rakso – Grandfather; term of endearment when speaking to your grandfather (familiar)
Raksótha – Grandfather; term of endearment when speaking of your grandfather (familiar)
Rakeni – Father; term of endearment when speaking to your father (familiar)
Rake'níha – Father; term of endearment when speaking of your father (familiar)
Kwátere – Grandson; term of endearment when a grandfather is speaking to his grandson (familiar)
Riiaterè:'a – Grandson; term of endearment when a grandfather is speaking of his grandson (familiar)
French terms
dépanneur – convenience store
Sûreté du Québec – abbreviated as SQ; police organization having jurisdiction over the entire province of Québec. Informally known as the Québec Provincial Police; similar in concept to state police organizations in the United States.
Other terms
Defenders – a fictional faction of Blackriver First Nation. Longhouse traditionalists, proponents of a peaceful approach to dealing with various foreign governments. Current leader: Tommy Skye.
Guardians – a fictional faction of Blackriver First Nation. Longhouse traditionalists, proponents of a “might-makes-right” approach to dealing with various foreign governments. Current leader: Chaz Whitedeer.
CHAPTER 1
The front door swinging on a broken hinge sent ice sliding down Rémi Whitedeer’s spine. Darkness yawned though the open doorway of his grandfather’s normally bright and cheery house. Jumping out of his car, he pounded up the porch steps, worry spinning his gut into a hard ball. “Rakso! Where are you?”
Without waiting for a response, Rémi charged into the dim interior, coming to an abrupt halt as broken glass crunched under his boots. He should be hearing the ever-present blare of his grandfather’s television; instead, he heard only the thundering of his own blood.
Running his hand along the wall, he found the light switch and flipped it. Nothing. Stepping further into the dark and silent living room, he tripped over something on the floor. He crouched and located the small lamp Raksótha kept for reading. As he set it on the end table and tried to turn it on, his finger caught on the edge of the broken bulb. Hissing, he brought his finger to his lips and tasted blood.
The basement door scraped across the kitchen’s linoleum floor. Rémi tensed as footsteps approached. He yanked the lamp’s cord out of the outlet. Weapon raised, he moved cautiously toward the hall. The smell of burning tobacco reached his nose. “Rakso!” Rémi shouted again.
Grandfather stepped into the hall, a flashlight in one hand and a light bulb in the other. As usual, a leather thong held back his long gray hair and a cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth. “Kwe kwe, Rémi.”
Panting as if he’d run a marathon, Rémi inspected his grandfather for injuries. Except for his slightly disheveled appearance, Raksótha looked as calm as someone waking from a nap. Had Rémi completely misread the situation? No. Raksótha kept his house clean and orderly. Something bad had definitely happened here. But he’d play this his grandfather’s way. “Kwe kwe, Rakso. How are you this evening?”
Grandfather motioned toward the living room and let out a stream of smoke. “Dinner’s going to be late. I need to straighten up first. A messy house gives me indigestion.”
Rémi grinned. The clan mothers had chosen well when they’d installed his grandfather as one of the Bear clan’s traditional
chiefs. Nothing rattled him. His skin, as he was showing tonight, was well beyond the requisite seven spans thick. “What happened here?”
“First we clean, then cook, then eat, then talk. Everything has an order.”
Rémi swallowed his questions. Grandfather would talk only when he was ready. “How about I clean, you cook, then we eat and talk?”
Grandfather smiled and handed him the spare bulb and the flashlight. “Deal.”
Rémi switched on the repaired table lamp. And sucked in a sharp breath. Every drawer, every shelf stood empty. His grandfather’s collection of miniature carved animals and masks littered the plank floor, some of them crushed. His precious books on Iroquois history and culture were scattered throughout the living room, many ripped, their covers torn off. Every piece of furniture lay overturned, except one—his grandfather’s favorite rocking chair, inherited from his father.
Rémi noted, without surprise, the missing DVD player, television, and laptop. Probably teenagers searching for easy drug money. Later in the week, he’d get his grandfather some replacements. He righted the furniture and put the undamaged books and carvings back on the shelves. The broken ones he set on the coffee table. His grandfather could decide what to do with them later.
When he picked up the last wood carving, a wolf with its tail snapped off, melancholy gripped his heart like a fist. He remembered the night his grandfather had given it to him, the night his grandfather had brought him home to the Blackriver First Nation Reserve.
The night his mother had died.
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