Tallchief: The Homecoming (12 page)

His eyes darkened into the color of storm clouds charged with lightning. “I won’t bother you. But if you think you can sleep with me, then kick me out of your life when you want, like making appointments, think again. Which way is it?”

“You’re being difficult. I can take care of myself,” she said finally, frantic to have him away from the scene that would become bloody very easily. Her parents usually went for her throat, and this time—so soon after making love with Liam and discovering just a glimpse of happiness—she would slash back.

“Take it or leave it,” he said too softly.
Take me or leave me
trailed along his words, unsaid.

“We’ve just started, Liam. It’s not like we’re deep into a romance. Or that you have any claim on me or my life.” She was desperate now, to protect him, to send him away before her parents slashed at him. She knew little how to protect a man’s pride, and the rather harsh way he’d offered his help had startled her. With her parents approaching and Liam refusing to budge, a clash was certain. She could fight better alone, without safeguarding his pride and that was her parents’ favorite target….

“Don’t I have a claim?” he asked smoothly, reminding her of the heat between them, her need of him. She tried not to flush as she opened the door to the well-dressed, too-perfect couple that were her parents.

“Mother. Father. This is Liam Tallchief. Please come in.” She shot a look at Liam, hoping he’d take the hint. She opened the door wider for him to exit. “I’ll talk to you later, Liam.”

“That won’t do,” he said too easily, putting aside the trowel and the drywall compound. He closed the new,
unpainted door easily, despite her effort to keep it open. “I’m staying.”

“Mr. Tallchief,” her father said too coolly, in a tone that raised the hair on the back of her neck. She recognized the familiar tone.

“You’re not actually going to live in this rustic little town? In this?” her mother asked disdainfully, slowly itemizing the house and then Liam, inch by inch, down his plaster-and sawdust-covered clothing to his worn work boots. “Charming.” Eloise Franklin’s cultured tones dripped in ice. “My daughter as a grimy workman, all that money on her education and meeting the right kind of people wasted.”

Her father picked up the verbal knife and began wielding it. “After all we’ve done for you. You’re wasting yourself here, Michelle. Only an idiot would quit the position you had at Dover’s. If you knew what I went through to get you hired in any position with that idiot Ted—”

“You what?” She hadn’t realized her father’s connections ran to Ted Dover. She’d thought she’d gotten her position on merit, intelligence and creativity. But then Bruce Franklin never failed to strip away pride when he made his point. Stunned, Michelle began to tremble. “I worked my way into that position. You had nothing to do with it.”

“Didn’t I?” Her father’s smirk never lied; he knew he had the upper hand and that he’d jerked her pride from under her. Bruce Franklin could prove his point, if questioned. He always took copious notes of calls—dates and times and conversations. “We’re old friends. I asked him not to say anything because you’re on this latest, independent tangent, and the divorce was an evident mistake. I’ve already talked with Oliver. He’s ready to make
amends and let us all get on with life in the way I’ve planned.”

Franklin’s cold-blue eyes narrowed at Liam. “Surely this isn’t a husband-replacement for the man that Oliver is—socially acceptable in our circles. Surely he’s entertainment until you’ve finished with whatever—”

Michelle tensed as Liam’s arm circled her, bringing her close to him. She elbowed him, wanting him to step away, to protect him. Liam’s grim look down at her told her that he’d been in worse situations and he wasn’t leaving her.

“Go away…please. I can handle this,” she whispered, desperate to have him out of battle’s way.

“No,” he said, as if nothing could move him from her side.

“I’m used to this,” she whispered again, trying to push him away. She hadn’t had time to tell him—
and now her unshared secret could destroy them
.

“That’s sad, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m staying put.”

Her mother gasped and paled. Her father blinked as if descending into another galaxy. Then Liam checked the woodstove, banking the small flame for the night, and stuffed Michelle into his borrowed coat, as if she were a child. He smoothed her hair over the coat before picking her up. “She’s tired. Call her tomorrow. The phone works. You’d better leave now.”

But her father was a seasoned fighter, clearly set to battle an encroaching male. Bruce Franklin knew how to set the pegs to destroy trust. “Is this the man you’ve been investigating? The one with a brother who can’t be located?”

The question slashed through the scent of new wood and new happiness. Michelle held her breath;
she hadn’t
had time to tell Liam.
She’d wanted the right moment, and in all the flurry, in the tempest between them, she’d forgotten how angry she’d been when he’d packed her off the mountain and told her to stay away from him.

A shrewd man, her father would have tracked her activities before she’d quit her job; Bruce Franklin’s business tentacles were twisted and crept into corners she hadn’t suspected. No doubt he knew every contact on her prized list. She thought she’d gotten that job on her own merit, on the contact list she’d built by hard work.

But her own slashed pride was nothing compared to the trust she’d broken, the pain flashing in Liam’s thunderous eyes before he concealed it.

Liam’s arms tightened around her, and a muscle tightened along his jaw and cheek, shifting beneath the dark stubble. Still holding her, his surprise flashed too quickly for her parents to see. Liam was a man who knew how to hide his emotions, but she knew that her father’s hit had been effective. “Cut the trust,” Bruce Franklin had always said. “And everything will unwind nicely to your advantage. Always take advantage. Never let emotions rule you.”

Had she really lived like that? Acted like that? Without compassion, like a robot?

“Liam, I—” But the damage was done; she’d broken his trust, and, hardened by the past, Liam Tallchief wouldn’t likely forgive her.

Michelle watched her parents stiffly bundle into their car; with tears burning her eyes, she wondered if she’d lost everyone who mattered in her lie, including Liam.

After her parents had gone, slamming the door behind them, Liam placed her on her feet, and ran his hand through his hair. “I should have known. They’re right,
aren’t they? I’m entertainment—the mechanic and the rich lady out for fun. What’s this about a brother?”

She’d wanted to tell him more gently, to explain that her habits were meticulous because of the careful way she’d learned to fence with her parents. But she wanted the truth between them now. “You have a brother—Adam. I tried to locate him. He’s three years older and—”

“You’re right. You are good at what you do, in more ways than one,” Liam said too quietly. She reached out to him, and he snared her wrist, pushing it away. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t encourage J.T. from now on. Don’t hurt him.”

Her blood seemed to drain onto the unfinished floor, leaving her body cold. “I was angry with you for packing me off that mountain like so much unwanted baggage. I wanted to tell you, but—”

“You had plenty of time, lady. It’s been two long nights and two days.” Then Liam walked out of the door and drove his pickup away into the rain.

Moments later, Liam glanced at the bright-red pickup shooting like a bullet toward his home.
He had a brother, and he hadn’t known all these years—Adam.

The second fact hit Liam:
he had opened himself to a woman who didn’t trust him.
From his living room window, he watched Michelle tear off his coat and, carrying it and a briefcase, tramped up his sidewalk. Her hair flew around her, almost glowing in the dreary day. He jerked open the door just as she began to shove, and she hurled into his arms, struggling free. Torn by emotions, he pushed her away.

She’d been crying and it was his fault.
That thought crushed his anger and bred his guilt. He’d hurt her; he
was worse than her heartless parents. He should have stayed, listened to her explain—He jammed his hands in his back pockets to keep from gathering her close.

She flung the coat at him, and it dropped aside, unheeded. She shoved the briefcase against his chest, and he held it, uncertain of what to say.

“You’re just so emotional. I was waiting for the right time to tell you. Fine, be mad. Hole up here like a wounded old bear. Cover the hole of your cave door. I don’t care. But here is the information I found. It’s valid and it’s yours. I’ll refer any new messages concerning Adam Tallchief to you, unopened. I was mad when you bundled me back to the Tallchiefs and told me to stay away. I did this research immediately after I got back to my office. My father just speeded up the impact, thanks to his need to crush everyone around him.”

The sarcastic bitterness in her tone reminded Liam that her father had stripped her pride—Michelle had been deeply wounded, tears not far from her when she’d learned that Bruce Franklin had set up her life. Liam placed the briefcase with information of his brother aside; he would look at it later. Michelle’s wounds were new and raw, and she needed him—

She needed him.
Liam breathed unsteadily, examining a new thought. He could give her something after all—understanding and patience. She’d had money but not support. He could give her that—

She turned, her hair whirling around her like a pale firestorm, her eyes flashing up at him, her expression furious. Her body tensed, her fists tight at her sides. “So we made love. Big deal. I’ll live. You’ll live.”

“Are you leaving?” he demanded, fearing she would. She’d be alone again, fighting to survive and to keep her pride.

Her finger shot out to jab his chest. “When I’m ready…when I’m ready. I finish what I start, and I’m not done yet—uh!”

“Then finish this,” he murmured after the kiss he intended her to remember. While he held her close, he kissed the teardrops from her lashes and nuzzled away the cold dampness on her cheeks. No matter what happened, she was his to protect and—the next thought sent him reeling—
Michelle was his to love.
He didn’t know how to tell her, but he would try. He’d try to give her what a woman should have—tenderness and safety. “And you’ve got one other problem—you’re not safe in that cottage, living alone. I want you here.”

I want you here.
The command echoed harshly through the small house, trimmed with his fear for her. In a second thought he realized that there was a whole family ready to help protect Michelle—a family who had claimed J.T. and himself. The Tallchiefs hadn’t hesitated to help with her house, and all it took was one call to one message machine—no money offered and no terms asked. Liam blinked; he realized that he had everything a man could want, right here—
a family, a homecoming and a woman who had his heart were all his, after all those hard years.

A little dizzy with the new thought, Liam suddenly admitted that all those dreams were his, the dreams he’d thought were only for other men.

He’d have to do better than ordering and yelling at her, he thought as Michelle eased away from him. Her bottom lip trembled, and a fresh supply of tears brimmed at her lids. He knew if one fell, he’d grab her close and— “I don’t like orders, Tallchief. Unless I’m giving them,” she stated crisply in her executive tone.

Tears and a woman’s raised hackles weren’t an easy
mix, and they were Liam’s first trial as a man determined to change. He ran his hands through his hair, uncertain how to handle her, how to tell her of his need to protect her. He’d just yelled, stunning himself, and when a man’s control slipped that much— “I can’t watch my son at night and worry about you getting hurt in the cottage, all alone.”

He frowned as another novel thought zipped across his fears, shaking him. He’d had few allies in his life, and Michelle had definitely positioned herself between him and her parents. “You tried to protect me, didn’t you? When your parents arrived?”

For a moment she stared blankly at him. Then she denied his claim with a toss of her head. “I don’t know why I should protect you. Look at the size of you, you’re strong enough to lift a small car, and you carry me all over the place. What is that…? Carrying me? And don’t you realize how appealing you are? How good looking and smart and wonderful with your son?”

She threw up her hands and stalked the length of the room, picking up a toy dinosaur to cuddle it against her. “You don’t need anyone to protect you. You’re so complete in yourself. With those dark and dangerous looks, that shaggy black hair that any woman would want to cut and trim—rather like Delilah to Sampson. Oh, don’t ask me…it’s a woman’s taming thing for a delectable man with hair like yours, badly needing a trim…something about you that makes a woman want to drag you back to her cave…. Then there’s that little-boy thing—how delighted you are with J.T. and…and those sultry gray eyes and that arrogant swagger and those long legs and narrow hips and that cute little triangle of hair on your chest that leads down to—well, never mind….”

Liam fought the hardening of the anatomy she was
about to describe. If she had put her hand on him there—But she hadn’t. If she had touched him—He shook himself mentally as Michelle continued raging— “I’ve no doubt that you’ve had women falling all over you. It just amazes me that you’ve got any stamina at all, but you certainly proved that last night—my goodness, we’re talking marathons here. I got nailed, Tallchief, well and good. Okay, okay, so I managed my share of—I wanted to be alive and you gave me that…whatever, and you’re trying to tell me that I would protect you? Don’t think so, bud. Not me. Uh-uh. I take care of me.”

Liam’s happy little glow stunned him; his boots seemed to float inches above the floor. Michelle’s hot-tempered opinion of his strength, looks and virility was untrue, outrageous and flattering. He just could get used to that sassy mouth calling him out and making him feel like a Greek god. “I like to carry you because I’m your lover and I’m going to be your husband and the father of your babies, if they come along,” he said solemnly, and then gave her a kiss that was softer and spoke of the future he wanted. “Just so you’ll know,” he added, when she tore herself away from him. “You’re afraid of giving too much of yourself away, and now I know why—your parents aren’t exactly the picture of love. Lady, I’m coming after you, and I mean to win. Get used to it.”