Chapter Ten

Jasira tore off a piece of her garlic bread and swiped up the last bit of the sauce on her plate. She was having a wonderful time. He was amazing to be around. He’d talked about his parents, his two siblings—a brother and a sister—and now was talking about the tribe.

She swallowed her bite and said, “So it’s more than just Lakota, Dakota, and Teton Sioux?”

“Actually it’d be Dakota, Lakota, and Nakota.” Stone leaned forward, his plate pushed to the side and he stared at her. “There are branches and divisions throughout the Sioux nation. Gives us different customs and all of that.”

She chewed her lower lip for a moment. “Okay. So then although you’re Lakota, you’re also…”

“I’m a Miniconjou Lakota Sioux.”

The word rolled off his tongue like Min-nee-con-z-hoo. Jasira said it in her head a few times.

“Does it mean something special?”

He smiled, showing her the dimple in his right cheek. She shifted on the seat as heat pooled in her belly. He is almost too good looking for his own good. Or mine.

“Yes. Miniconjou means ‘Plants by the water’.” Stone got to his feet and began to clear the table.

Helping him, Jasira said, “That’s beautiful.”

“I don’t usually meet a lot of people interested in this. Why are you?”

She didn’t take offense by his question for she didn’t sense anything but honest curiosity. “I guess I’m just naturally inquisitive. And combined with my experience on the road and on the ride…I don’t know.”

“Do you know much about your Comanche great-great grandmother?”

Jasira shut the dishwasher and returned to the table, taking her seat opposite him again. “Unfortunately, no. Not anything other than they met after he lost his arm at Wounded Knee and retired from the Army.”

An indescribable emotion crossed his face before he managed to get it under control. She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Stone got to his feet and went to the kitchen. He returned with coffee and a lemon pudding cake. Jasira watched him, unsure if she’d done something to offend him. He smiled at her as he poured her a cup of java and cut her a slice of cake.

“Oh my, that looks all too good and fattening.”

“Eat,” he ordered, taking his seat.

Picking up her fork, Jasira indulged in a bite. She moaned in pleasure as the cake flooded her taste buds with rich flavor. “Ohhh, this…this is good.”

His eyes heated and burned her. “You have no idea,” he said in a graveled tone. Stone took a drink of his coffee, then cut a piece off his own slice and ate it. “Have you gone to the Wounded Knee grave?”

She shook her head, embarrassed. “No.”

“Would you like to go with me?”

Jasira lifted her head and met his gaze. “Yes. I’d like that a lot.”

He winked and her mind drifted down a totally different road. I wonder if this cake tastes better off his lips. I bet it would. But then, I bet anything and everything does. She shifted again and tried to control her thoughts.

The rest of dessert was relaxed and lighthearted. They cleaned up the remainder of the meal together, and Jasira walked to the door while Stone started the dishwasher. Then he was at her side escorting her through the dark to her vehicle. The cold night made her shiver. He took her keys from her and started her Pathfinder. She sighed when he draped her hooded jacket around her shoulders. Instead of releasing her, Stone drew her in close to his chest. Jasira allowed her body to sink into his strong, warm, hard physique. His arms wrapped around her and he lowered his head near hers.

“You going to be okay driving back?”

“I’ll be fine,” she responded softly, in absolutely no rush to leave his embrace.

“Thank you for spending the day with me.”

“I had a wonderful time, Stone.”

“We’ll do it again soon. And we’ll figure out when to go out to Wounded Knee.”

“I can’t wait,” she murmured.

He kissed her, and his tongue swept through like a fire, branding her. Her toes curled in her shoes and her fingers dug into the material of his shirt along his lean waist.

“Go now, Jasira,” he rasped, dragging his mouth off hers. “Before I forget how to be a gentleman.”

Don’t be one. Oh please, don’t be one! Take me to your bed and… Jasira slammed the door on those thoughts. Licking her lips, she fought down the moan as the lingering taste of him seeped into her again

“Goodnight, Stone. Thanks for everything.”

He released her and held the door for her. Once she was buckled in, Stone kissed her lightly one more time, leaving her wanting so much more.

“Night, Jasira. Drive safely.” He shut the door.

With a wave, she hit the lights and backed up before driving away. Stone was on her mind the complete trek back to her apartment. Her body—hypersensitive and aroused—never totally relaxed until after she had a hot shower and slid into bed. Stone’s eyes were with her as she traversed the skies on her way to the land of dreams.

Over the next week, she didn’t see Stone, but she spoke to him numerous times. What little free time she had, Jasira researched Wounded Knee and called home to talk to her grandfather to see what he remembered his grandfather saying about it. That Sunday all the information she’d acquired ran through her head when she drove to the airport.