One Night With You (25 page)

“We have, Your Honor, and we find that the defendants, Brown and Worley, conspired to use and abuse land fraudulently obtained and to which they had no entitlement, that they owe restitution to individuals with families interred beneath Albemarle Gates, and that they have no right to build on any other sacred burial grounds.”

She polled the jury, received no dissent. To Brown and Worley, she said, “Will the defendants please rise. You are hereby ordered to desist from building anything on a sacred Native American burial site anywhere within the area under this court's jurisdiction and to pay five thousand dollars to each descendant of an individual buried beneath Albemarle Gates.”

She clapped her hands over her ears at the uproar from those in the audience. So loud was it that she thought her head would split. They rose as one, applauding, yelling and shouting her name. She wondered how they would have reacted if she had imposed ten thousand per person instead of five as she had originally planned to do. But when she remembered that thousands of people in the area had ancestors buried beneath Albemarle Gates, she had lowered the amount to five thousand dollars.

I pray it doesn't bankrupt them,
she said to herself,
for Reid is surely going to charge them with defamation of character.

“What's next on the docket?” she asked Carl Running Moon.

“Same old things, ma'am,” he said as he rifled through papers on his desk. “Paternity suits, divorce, theft and more theft, wife abuse. Say, what's this?”

He removed a sheaf of papers from the bundle in his hand and studied them. “Looks like Brown and Worley will be back with us in two weeks.”

K
endra made her way to her chambers, exhausted and wishing for one of Philip's margaritas. She hadn't even hoped that the jury would bring in a verdict after one day's deliberation. Nor had she envisaged a recommendation for restitution, though she had hoped for that and believed it to be just.

“Congratulations, ma'am,” Carl Running Moon said after she sat down at her desk. “These are for you from your staff.” He handed her a vase of white roses. “We're all mighty pleased at the result of the trial and real proud of you. You stuck it to those guys. Almost half of this town has somebody buried under Albemarle Gates. The money won't compensate for the fact that we can't visit our loved ones and perform our ceremonies and rituals, but it will put bread in the mouths of many and help the local economy.”

“I didn't think of that,” she told him. “I levied those fines because I believed them to be just.”

“Well, you're a hero, and your fame will spread far. This is the kind of justice we've been trying to get.”

When she left the courthouse, she noticed the honking of horns, Old Glory waving from the hoods of a number of cars and small groups of people standing on the street talking and gesticulating. She put on her sunglasses and prayed that no one would recognize her.

As she entered her house, she heard the phone and raced to answer it.

“Hello.”

“Judge Rutherford, I'm Minnie Canyon. Thank you on behalf of the Ossewendas of Wisconsin and all of my Native American brothers and sisters everywhere. You've set a great precedent, and we plan to make you an honorary Ossewenda. I hope you will come here for the ceremony.”

“I'm honored, Ms. Canyon. Thank you so much. I only did what I knew was right.”

Before an hour had passed, she received half a dozen calls from individuals who identified themselves as Native Americans, African-Americans and plain Americans in several states rejoicing in the outcome of the trial. “I had no idea this trial would generate such interest,” she told one caller. “I am glad that so many people are pleased, and I thank you for your good wishes.”

At last she answered the phone and heard Reid's voice. “Congratulations. I was listening to the radio as I drove home, and the announcer actually
sang
the verdict and the sentence. I'm proud of you, sweetheart. It would have been so easy to give them token punishment, but they will feel that deep in the pocket, where it hurts.”

“Thank you, Reid. Your opinion of me matters more than that of any other person. I've had congratulatory calls from all over. Three tribes are making me an honorary member, and I'm going to the ceremonies, too, if it doesn't interfere with my work.”

“I'm sure they'll arrange it to suit you. How about dinner at my place? We could go to a restaurant, if you'd rather eat out.”

“Are you going to cook?” she asked him. “You've never eaten my cooking at my house except snacks or something sweet that goes with coffee. I'll fix dinner. Bring some white wine.”

“A woman after my own heart. See you at seven-thirty.”

“Don't I even get a kiss? You're getting stingy.”

“You think so? Well, I sure as hell don't
feel
stingy.” He made the sound of a kiss. “I'll fix that at seven thirty-one.”

She had committed herself to giving Reid a decent meal, so she'd better get busy. She rummaged around in her deep freezer and found Atlantic salmon, shrimp and scallops. Her refrigerator vegetable crisper revealed asparagus and lettuce. She had lemons, eggs and sugar, and some tomatoes on the windowsill. If she had any potatoes, she could make a decent meal.

At ten minutes past seven, she stepped out of the shower, patted herself dry and went to her closet. “What the hell!” she said aloud. “I'm going for broke. I'm not letting him get away with trying his cool stuff on me.” She put on her red bikini panties and stepped into her red silk jumpsuit, its halter top and plunging neckline guaranteed to activate the libido of a healthy man. The last time she'd worn it, she'd nearly gotten in to serious trouble. If she got into the same kind of trouble with Reid, the jumpsuit would have done its job. She combed her hair down, attached some long gold hoops to her ears, and sprayed perfume in strategic places. If he thought he'd see the judge when she opened the door, he was in for an awakening.

As she'd expected, the bell rang precisely at seven-thirty. When she opened the door, he gasped, and she let her grin tell him that he'd reacted as she'd hoped and planned. He picked her up and walked into the house with his arms around her and his tongue in her mouth.

When at last he released her, she asked him, “Don't you want any supper? Keep this up and the food won't be fit to eat when you finally get it.”

He handed her a bag containing two bottles of white wine. “I'm taking whatever you give me any way you give it.”

If that wasn't a loaded comment, she'd never heard one. “Have a seat in the dining room,” she said, glad that she had planned for them to eat there and not in the tiny breakfast room, for he wore a suit, a dress shirt and tie. “You look very spiffy. Don't tell me you dress that way for work.”

“Thanks for the compliment. I did when I worked at Marks and Connerly, but I had on Dockers, a T-shirt, and sandals all day today. I plan to keep a suit, shirt, tie, shoes and socks at my office to change into when I have appointments.”

I'd have gotten what I want tonight without putting on this Sherman tank,
her name for the sexy jumpsuit.
As it is, I can't lose.

She served the first course, a mousse of scallops in a sauce of tomatoes, shallots, wine and dill, said grace and glanced up as if to get Reid's reaction. “If the remainder of the meal is anything like this mousse,” he said, “I may never leave here.”

“Thanks. I made a menu out of what I had in the house. Next time, I'll plan it properly.”

He devoured the salmon that she'd baked in foil with lemon, herbed butter and paprika; the tiny steamed potatoes rolled in butter, lemon juice and minced parsley; steamed asparagus, a lettuce and red onion salad, followed by Gorgonzola cheese with crackers and then a lemon cognac soufflé.

“This is wonderful wine,” she said as if she hoped to start a conversation, but his focus was on the food, and he'd forgotten the obligatory polite conversation.

“It is,” he said. “This is one of my favorite cheeses. It's better with red wine.”

“Really?” She got up, went to the kitchen and got a bottle of red wine. He watched her walk and thought his eyes would pop out. She knew she'd get to him in that getup, but she needn't have gone to the trouble; he was starved for her.

“We aim to please,” she said, putting the wine on the table.

He poured wine into the glass she brought and raised it to her. “And please, you definitely do. Don't tell me you made a dessert,” he said when she brought in the soufflé.

After consuming two helpings of the dessert, he got up, removed his jacket, kissed her on the mouth and said, “Go in the living room and play something cool, loud enough for me to hear it.”

“But what about the neighbors?”

“Hang the neighbors. This is
my
night.”

Reid cleared the dining-room table, put the dishes in the dishwasher, cleaned the pots, made the place as neat as he could and looked at his watch. Seventeen minutes. He figured she hadn't had time to cool off, but if she had, he knew how to heat her up.

In the downstairs bathroom—more of a half bath, since it didn't have a tub—he rinsed his mouth, freshened his breath, straightened his tie and rolled down his sleeves.
With this woman, a guy needs everything going for him or he can forget it.

He slipped on his jacket, got two wineglasses and the second bottle of white wine and made his way to the living room. He stopped short at the sight of her bending over the CD player with her assets on display and her voluptuous body sending out signals like a powerful wireless. He told himself to slow down. He'd been keyed up ever since the door had opened and he'd gotten a look at her cleavage from a neckline that plunged almost to her navel.

“Hi,” he said.

She straightened up and smiled in a way that suggested she hadn't seen him for a long time. He poured two glasses of wine and put one to her lips, and she sipped the wine without taking her gaze from his. Feeling is if he was about to be carried away, he drank the wine that she held to his lips, and its dazzling effects settled in his belly.

It isn't the wine,
he told himself. I
'm getting drunk on her.
He took the wine from her hand and placed both glasses on the coffee table. “I want to dance with you.” She raised her arms and placed her hands against his shoulders. “I want us to dance to our own music,” he said as she moved against him while Luther Vandross sang “Here and Now.”

He stopped dancing. “I'm in deep with you, Kendra. I believe you love me, but you're sending me all kinds of messages tonight. I…I feel as if I may not be able to contain what I'm feeling right now.”

“As long as you love me, truly love me,” she said, “I'll be happy.”

And he didn't doubt that she would be the one who decided whether he truly loved her.

“You're so firmly planted in here,” he said, pointing to his chest, “that I can't imagine my life without you.”

She stepped closer, traced his left cheek with the palm of her right hand, pressed her lips to his and then parted them, sending a shock wave throughout his body. He plunged into her, aware that she meant him to hold back nothing. She sucked his tongue into her mouth, and he could feel her getting hotter as she began to move against him. He sampled every crevice of her mouth with his tongue until her breath started coming in short spurts, and she grabbed his hand and shoved it into the neckline of her dress.

He looked down at her exposed breast, and swallowed the liquid that had accumulated in his mouth. Lord, how he loved it! He sucked the nipple into his mouth, picked her up and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom while he suckled her. He got her out of the jumpsuit, threw back the covers and put her in bed.

“Let me help,” she said, watching him undress.

“It wouldn't do for you to touch me right now, sweetheart. I'm starved to death for you, and the sight of you lying there in that scrap of red cloth isn't making me simmer down.”

She reached over and stroked his penis. “Hmmm,” she said, licking her lips.

“Like what you see?” he asked her, not trying to keep the grin off his face.

“Like it, and can't wait to get it.”

He kicked off his shoes, didn't bother to pull off his socks and stood staring down at the treasure before him. She opened her arms in a gesture as old as women.

“Come here to me.” He nearly fell into her embrace as she spread her legs in a familiar welcome. He put his arms around her and kissed her eyes and her forehead, praying that he wouldn't erupt.

“Honey, I don't need the finesse tonight. I just want to feel you moving inside me.” She reached down to fondle him, but he moved his hips, thwarting her effort.

“You're not ready, and I don't want to hurt you,” he said.

She held her breast. “Kiss me. You won't hurt me. You can't. I want…” He found her vulva with his fingers and let them work their magic until he knew she was ready for him. She took him in her hand, stroked and caressed him until he shouted aloud.

“Stop it, baby, or it'll be over.”

She raised her body and took him in.
Home.
No other word described the feeling he got when he slid into her. Pure heaven was his. He rode her fast and furiously.

“Do you feel it coming? Am I in the right place? I can't last much longer the way you're swelling around me. Oh, Kendra!” And then he could feel her clutching and squeezing him. Screams poured out of her.

“I love you so much,” she said.

He wanted to tell her how much he loved her and what she meant to him, but the words wouldn't come. He managed to breathe as he gave himself to her, gave himself as never before. “I'm yours. Only yours.” With those words pounding in his head, he came apart in her arms.

She seemed weightless and lifeless in his arms, as if the experience had drained her, yet he knew her now, and understood that, after a quick recovery, she would be ready for more.

“How do you feel?” he asked her. “That was rather short. I know you had an orgasm, but was it complete?”

Her arms tightened around him. “It was wonderful. Why? Are you tired?”

He couldn't hold back the laugh. “No indeed, but I could use a bite of something.”

“I know. Lovemaking always makes you hungry. There are some buttermilk biscuits with ham wrapped in aluminum foil in the oven. I'm sure they're still warm.”