Native Born

by Jenna Kernan

  “What’s wrong, then?”

  “I needed to see you.”

  Cassidy still gripped the door and her opposite hand held the pistol. She motioned him in with a gesture of her head. He found her room had one king-size bed, a chair and a desk with a second chair. The only illumination came from the desk lamp and her glowing laptop that was up and open, with two files beside it on the glass surface. Near the window, her belongings were neatly folded in an open suitcase on a stand and her laptop.

  “Going over some things,” she said. “Can I get you something? I have pop in the mini-fridge.”

  “Nothing.”

  Cassidy sat on the bed. Clyne took the desk chair. She waited for him to speak.

  “I just broke up with a woman I have been seeing.”

  Cassidy’s pale brow lifted. Was she wondering what this had to do with her?

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He waved away the concern. “I told her I was seeing someone else.”

  Cassidy’s head tilted as she thought about this.

  “Are you?”

  He gave his head a shake.

  Cassidy’s mouth dropped open as she put it together.

  “Clyne... I don’t think... This isn’t a good idea.”

  “That’s what Gabe said.”

  “This could affect my custody.”

  “How? She’s ours for six months and then she makes a choice. Us or you. If you stay here, maybe she won’t have to choose.”

  “Stay?” She gave her head a little shake. “So you’re doing this for your sister?”

  “No. For me.” Clyne’s head sank. He was trying every way he could think of to rationalize doing the irrational. And she was fighting him, still.

  Cassidy was on her feet. “I think you should go.”

  “Probably.” He didn’t get up.

  “I’m white,” she said.

  “No one’s perfect.”

  She chuckled at that. Clyne stood and her eyes swept over him like a caress.

  “Maybe this is just, you know, an infatuation.”

  He didn’t think so. “Maybe.”

  “It’s just because, well, you were over there. So was I. We understand what it was like.”

  “Yes. That’s true. But it’s more.”

  “I don’t want this to hurt Jovanna. I don’t want you thinking that sleeping with me will fix all that. I’m still her mother and I plan to win full custody.”

  “Even if you take her, she’ll come back when she is grown. She has to.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because she will long to know where she comes from. Everyone needs to know that. Even if you take her for another nine years, she’ll come back.”

  Cassidy grabbed the lapel of his topcoat and choked the fabric in her fist.

  “She’s my daughter.”

  He nodded. “Yes. She will always be that.”

  Her eyes filled with tears that spilled down her cheeks. He used his thumbs to brush them both aside and kept them there for a moment before threading his fingers in her fine pale hair.

  He knew what he felt for Cassidy was strong and real. He also knew that marrying her would unite their families and give Jovanna her mother back. She wouldn’t have to choose.

  What he didn’t know was if he was strong enough to face his tribe with a white woman at his side after speaking on many occasions about the need to preserve their cultural heritage.

  He didn’t know if he could convince Cassidy Walker to give up her transfer and stay here with them. But he wanted to try.

  Clyne angled his head. Cassidy tugged at his topcoat, lifting to meet his kiss. The heat sizzled through him at the first brushing contact. He felt as if he were falling, spinning with her in his arms.

  Cassidy’s hands moved over his shirt, releasing buttons. He found the zipper at the side of her slacks and tugged. She let the garment fall to the ground and stepped from them. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and glanced to the empty place beside her.

  He shrugged out of his topcoat and blazer and tossed them to the chair. His shirt went next. She kept her eyes on him as she released the top rivet securing his jeans. He strained against the denim fabric, showing his need in the most obvious way possible. A smile flicked over her ripe pink lips. He sat beside her and each turned to their own attire, him throwing off shoes and jeans and shirts while she slipped out of her button-up blouse. When only his boxers remained, he turned to find Cassidy standing in only a scrap of fuchsia lace panties and a lacy top with underwire lifting her small breasts so the plump flesh spilled from the shallow cup. He could see the soft pink of her nipples and the fine blue veins that crossed under the pale flesh of her breasts and belly. She was so beautiful it took away his breath.

  He stood, offering his hand. She laced her fingers with his and he tugged her forward, bringing her body to his.

  * * *

  CASSIDY TRIED HARD not to remember the last time she had felt a man’s touch. No, she pressed that down with her memories and her grief. Tonight was for the living, not the dead. And Clyne, no matter what his faults and how much they differed on every single issue, was alive and he wanted her. The attraction that roared between them created a need stronger than anything she’d ever experienced.

  Tonight her need had caused her to call a truce. But it wouldn’t last. What was he doing breaking up with his girl and coming here? She should have turned him around at the door, because she knew how this would end—badly.

  Clyne wanted just what she wanted—to come alive, be desired, be consumed by the sweet taste and scent and feel of a perfect opposite.

  But he wanted something else. He wanted her to stay and he wanted it enough to offer himself. Did he have feelings for her or was this some play to change her mind about leaving?

  His strong hands lifted her until she settled on his body, a living bed of muscle and heat. Separated now by only his cotton briefs and her lacy panties, she felt the long length of him. He growled as she rocked, and lifted up to take the tip of one breast in his mouth. The dizzying sensation made her groan and arch to allow him free rein. He was not gentle. She was not submissive. No, Cassidy demanded what she wanted and took as she gave. And unfortunately for them both, their lovemaking was powerful and rare and thrilling.

  Was it because it would not last?

  She didn’t know. But when they had finally come to rest, panting and slick with the sweat of their efforts, she closed her eyes and grieved again for this man who she feared she would never keep and for the union that marked the beginning and the end of all that could be between them.

  Cassidy had a job to do here, a promotion to earn and, in six months, she was leaving Black Mountain with her daughter. Jovanna would not be coming back. She’d be certain of that.

  She threw an arm over her closed eyes and purred. It was worth every bit of it, she decided.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She didn’t look at him. He was too handsome and seeing him in the light of one desk lamp might give her stupid ideas, like how to hold on to him.

  “That was a mistake,” she said.

  “Are you sorry?” He rolled to his side, his fingers dancing over her stomach and making her twitch.

  “Yes and no.” She peered at him from under her arm. “You?”

  He made a humming sound that was no answer. But his fingers continued to explore, moving from a gentle caress to purposeful stroking of her most sensitive places. Her body rose from lethargy so fast it startled her. Even with Gerard, she had never felt this kind of awareness. It wasn’t fair, she thought.

  “Slower, this time,” he said.

  She nodded. Cassidy supposed she could take some consolation in knowing that she was not the first woman and would
doubtless not be the last to leave Clyne Cosen’s bed wanting more.

  Clyne’s hand dipped lower and she moved to her back, letting him roam as he would. The man knew his way around the female form, she’d give him credit for that.

  She made the mistake of looking up at him, perched on one elbow. His muscles corded at his bicep and his braid lay upon his pillow.

  “Take your hair down,” she said.

  His brow dipped. “That some kind of white girl fantasy?” he asked, but there was still humor in his voice.

  “Maybe. The men in my life were always military. Short hair. No hair. This...” she lifted his braid “...seems like a pretty good handhold.”

  His brows lifted and he tugged away the leather band holding his hair. He swung his legs to the floor and finger combed the three strands into one. His hair was three times as long as hers. Then he looked back at her as she rolled to her knees behind him. She reached out and stroked his black hair, finding it thick and glossy.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “It’s nice,” she said, arranging his hair over his shoulders.

  “Feel free to grab hold any time,” he said.

  She did, moving from his hair to his shoulders and then scoring her nails over his chest. He leaned back against her as her hands moved lower and lower.

  Clyne reached back, captured one knee and dragged her before him until she straddled his hips. She rose up and then down. It wasn’t slow this time either, but his hair did make a very good hold.

  He gripped her tight, assuring her with his touch that he would not let her fall, which gave her the freedom to move. Her daring and the trust she showed captivated. When they fell back to the mattress together she tried to just savor the retreating pleasure. But her mind kept intruding, scrambling to think of some scenario where a tribal leader would choose a white military brat who worked for the organization he mistrusted most of all, the federal government. She had a very creative mind, but Cassidy Walker could not come up with one single plausible situation where he and she could make a go of it. He should know that, too.

  She closed her eyes. Clyne tucked her close. Cassidy toyed with a strand of his hair, wondering if like Samson it was the secret to his virility and strength.

  Silly, she thought and allowed sleep to carry her into dreams. She expected him to leave her, steal off in the night. He did leave the bed and she tried to pretend it didn’t matter. It would be easier not to face him in the morning than have to deal with what they had done. But he came back. He pulled back the still-made bed and dragged the thick comforter over them both, then he slipped against her back and tugged her close, spooning against her as he dozed.

  In the morning her phone alarm stirred her from sleep. She felt the weight of Clyne’s arm across her chest and groaned.

  What had they done?

  She silenced the alarm and rolled away. He captured her wrist before she made a clean get away.

  “Cassidy, we need to talk,” he said.

  “I’ve got to get dressed.”

  Clyne rolled to a seat. She tried and failed not to stare at all that bare skin and muscle. His hair, still loose, fell in a tangle down his back. And then she saw it, the small white puckered place just above his left hip. The bullet must have just missed the bottom of his vest. She wanted to touch it, that tiny scar that marred his perfect flesh. But she didn’t.

  Instead, she turned away, took exactly what she needed from her suitcase and fled to the bathroom. By the time she emerged, showered and completely dressed, he was still there.

  “Clyne, let’s not do this now.”

  “You don’t think we need to talk about this?”

  “Probably. But right now I’ve got work.”

  He gave her a long look and then nodded. “So we are both going to pretend this didn’t happen?”

  She hesitated, shifting her weight from side to side.

  “Fine,” he said. “See you around, Agent Walker.”

  “Hey. I didn’t ask you to come here.”

  “And you didn’t ask me to leave.”

  “Well, now I’m asking. That can’t happen again.”

  He snorted. “But it will. You know it will.”

  With that he strode out the door.

  * * *

  CLYNE MADE IT home to find Gabe sitting in the dining room scrolling through an Apache social media platform used by the tribe.

  “Thought you’d stayed at Karen’s,” he said, laying the tablet on the tabletop.

  “I broke up with her.”

  Gabe absorbed that without comment but his brows lifted high on his forehead.

  “She’s mad as a wet cat,” said Clyne.

  “Worse than when you gave her the bracelet?”

  “Way worse.”

  Gabe rubbed his neck.

  “So where’d you spend the night?” asked Gabe.

  Clyne thought from the way his brother looked at him that he already knew the answer.

  “Paulina? Rita?” Gabe asked, his voice holding a note of hope.

  Clyne let his head drop forward. “I don’t want them either.”

  “No?”

  He met Gabe’s troubled gaze.

  “I want Cassidy Walker.”

  Gabe rocketed to his feet. “I knew it.”

  Clyne sighed.

  “You’ve only known her a week.”

  “I met her in January when you took that shipment from the cartel.”

  “And you hated her on sight.”

  Clyne shrugged. “She’s a Fed.”

  “I never thought I’d be asking you this but do you know what you’re doing?”

  “I don’t think so. Rita or Paulina would be a lot easier.”

  “Maybe we should have a sweat tomorrow after church. Talk about this.”

  “Maybe.”

  “This isn’t just a way to keep her here for Jovanna. Is it?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  Gabe’s expression showed both pity and disappointment. “You really are in trouble. Never seen you like this.”

  Clyne poured some coffee. “Anything on that guy who tried to shoot her?”

  “In custody. Charged. They’re checking his prints against the partial palm print they got from the truck.”

  He meant the one that almost ran her down.

  “You sure you can’t just work her out of your system?” asked Gabe.

  “How’d that work for you with Selena?”

  Gabe’s shoulders rose and fell. “Yeah. I get it. Well, congratulations and condolences, I guess. You are going to take some heat.”

  “Hypocrite. Right? Expound the need to keep our traditions and preserve our culture, and then marry a white woman.”

  “Does Cassidy know how you feel?”

  “Nope. She didn’t want to talk about it.”

  “Oh, man.”

  “Will you go with her to Washington? She’s going, you know? She made a deal with Tully.”

  This was news to Clyne. He’d never even considered that. Leaving his home. He had told himself that after his discharge he would never leave Black Mountain again.

  “Luke told me. That was the only way they could get her to come to Black Mountain. She’d come here if she got her transfer afterward.”

  Clyne knew Cassidy wanted a transfer. He didn’t know she’d already gotten it. He felt as if Gabe had punched him.

  “But the case isn’t over just because they have Hare,” said Clyne. “It’s just starting. And it’s her case.”

  “She doesn’t want the case. She wants out.”

  “She won’t take a transfer. Not with the ruling. Her daughter is here. So she’ll stay.”

  Gabe gave him a pitying look.
“Yeah. For six months.”

  Clyne felt sick.

  “What about the position with the National Congress of American Indians? If you took that you’d be in Washington much of the time.”

  The executive director of the NCAI had asked Clyne to run for the board as vice president. He’d served as an area president for the southwest, but that did not involve much travel. VP was a different matter.

  “I’m not leaving Black Mountain.”

  “Well, she is,” said Gabe.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tuesday morning Cassidy spent her second day of surveillance, watching the Wolf Posse’s current place of business and kicking herself for being stupid enough to sleep with Clyne Cosen. What did he think that she’d give up her career and everything else to stay up here on this mountain? And now she was actually considering it. How stupid was that?

  Glendora had allowed Jovanna to call her each day after school, but Cassidy needed something to do to keep her from going crazy or worse, calling Clyne. He said it would happen again and now she thought he was right because she could not get the man out of her head.

  So here she sat on a little used road above the shabby wreck of a building used by Black Mountain’s only gang. For a dead-end road, traffic in and out was brisk.

  She got a call from Luke, who had been in touch with the crime lab.

  “We got the report on the latents from the truck.”

  “The partial palm print?” she asked.

  “Yeah. It’s not a match for Parker.”

  Cassidy frowned as the implications of that rolled through her. “What do you think?”

  “Not sure.”

  “No hits from the database?”

  “None.”

  So the driver had no record.

  “They’re checking them against Donner. It’s his truck so...”

  “It would make sense for the prints to belong to the owner of the truck.”

  “Right.”

  Escalanti appeared before the Wolf Posse’s headquarters. He did not usually leave until end of day.

  “I have to go. Escalanti is moving.”

  “Okay.” Luke disconnected.