Thunder Horse Heritage. Elle JamesЧитать онлайн книгу.
to be? If he was capable of being a good father, then she had no right to keep him from his daughter. Yet could she let him become part of their lives without developing feelings for him? Feelings that would place her right in her mother’s shoes, spending all her life worrying over him all the time?
In the outer room, Tuck unbuttoned the blue chambray shirt he wore and let it slide down over his back.
Julia’s breath caught in her chest.
Tall, broad shoulders, swarthy skin, hair hanging down almost to his shoulders, he could have been in a commercial promoting the Lakota Indians of the Dakotas, or an extra in a Wild West movie.
No wonder she’d fallen in bed with him. What single woman wouldn’t want to? It was hardly surprising she’d been too caught up in the moment to think of taking necessary precautions. She looked down at the sleeping bundle nestled at her side. She couldn’t regret, even for a moment, anything that brought her daughter into her life. But still, she knew she could have handled the situation much better.
During her pregnancy, she’d struggled with the truth, knowing she should tell Tuck about the pregnancy. Julia knew it really boiled down to Tuck’s work with the FBI. She’d been determined to raise Lily on her own, proving she didn’t need a man, especially one who was in such a dangerous line of work.
Guilt lodged like a twisted sock in her belly. She should have told him. He had every right to see his daughter. He could have been there for her when Lily had been born. Maybe things would have worked out for them. Tuck might be luckier than her father and sister. He might live to see his own grandchildren brought into this world.
Sure, and pigs can fly.
Pain washed over her anew. What more proof did she need? Her FBI agent father had died in the line of duty. Her sister worked for the FBI, and now she was dead. More tears welled in Julia’s eyes.
Tuck sat on the sofa and pulled his cowboy boots off. Then he stood and unbuttoned his jeans.
Julia should have turned away and allowed him his privacy, but she couldn’t. Her tears continued to slide down her cheeks, even as her gaze was drawn to the agent like a moth to a flame.
He loosened the button, his fingers grasping the zipper, then he paused. As if he thought better of it, his hands dropped to his sides and he glanced toward the bedroom.
Julia squeezed her eyes shut, feigning sleep.
The soft shuffle of bare feet on carpet let her know he’d entered the bedroom.
Carefully, Julia peeked through her lashes.
Tuck Thunder Horse leaned over the bed, staring down at the baby beside her. He reached out and brushed a finger over her cheek, his dark eyes fathomless, his square jaw rigid.
He bent and brushed a kiss across Lily’s forehead. His gaze shifted to Julia, his expression unreadable. As quietly as he’d entered the room, he moved on to the bathroom.
Julia’s gaze followed his retreating figure, an uncomfortable twinge of jealousy making her wish she’d been the one to receive the kiss, recalling how nice his lips felt on hers so long ago.
She shook her head, forcing her thoughts to clear. She couldn’t let herself fall into her attraction for Tuck again. This situation was temporary, just until the danger was resolved.
Her damp cheeks reminded her of what was glaringly important in this scenario. Her sister was dead, and she and Lily might be next.
Chapter Four
Tuck turned on the shower faucet, leaving it on a cool setting.
Sleep was the furthest thing from his mind with his ex-wife lying in the bedroom on the other side of the door. His groin tightened, memories of their fateful night together causing blood to flow and surge down low. A cold shower had been the only remedy he could pursue. Sleeping with Julia was not even a possibility. Not after she’d skipped out on him after their wedding night and omitted informing him of such a significant event as the birth of his child.
Anger at himself for still being so drawn to her burned along with the lust in his veins. Tuck stepped into the shower, the cool water pelting his skin, barely dampening the desire building inside. He grabbed for the miniature bottle of shampoo and scrubbed his hands through his hair, digging in his fingers hard enough to scrape his scalp. Yet, no amount of rubbing would rid his mind of her scent, her porcelain skin, the silken blond hair, the gentle swell of her hips, the full, sensuous lips—everything that made her Julia.
Tuck groaned, his soap-covered hands slipping down his torso to the hard erection he couldn’t shake by willpower or chilled water.
How was he supposed to keep her safe, when all he wanted was to lose himself in her body?
He forced himself to visualize the baby sleeping beside her. The dark-haired female version of himself lying so peacefully beside her mother, unaware of the danger she faced. The gravity of Lily’s situation was better at pulling him out of his fog of desire than being doused in icy water.
The baby gave him the necessary resolve to pull his head out of his lust and focus on the situation at hand. No matter what he wanted or desired, the baby was his main concern. Keeping Lily—and her mother—out of harm’s way had to be his focus. The only way to keep them safe was by catching the man who’d killed the NIGC representative and Julia’s sister.
He’d seen the video. The distance from the subject and the graininess made it difficult to determine the identity of the shooter. With advanced techniques and equipment, they had a chance. If he could get Julia, Lily and the cell phone out of Fort Yates intact.
* * *
JULIA LAY BESIDE Lily, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep with the sound of the shower on the other side of the bathroom door. Tuck would be standing naked beneath the spray. As if it was only yesterday, she recalled standing in a similar shower in this very hotel over a year ago with Tuck Thunder Horse, admiring her husband’s strong, sexy body, her fingers roving, exploring, her tongue tasting and memorizing every inch of the Native American.
Her pulse quickened, her blood burning a course straight to her core. She hadn’t taken a lover since that night—even before she found out she was pregnant. She’d just known that no other man would make her feel the way Tuck had. While her marriage had been brief, those hours she’d spent in Tuck’s arms had been electric, overpowering—above and beyond anything she’d ever known. Had she been too rash running out on Tuck before giving their crazy marriage a chance?
The thought of her sister lying in a cold, dark morgue brought her back to reality with a dull thud against her bruised heart. No, she had been right to leave and avoid falling deeper in love with the man. Had she stayed with him, she’d have set herself up to suffer the similar heartache of having lost her father and sister to the bureau.
She’d seen what it had done to her mother, watched her as over the years she’d withered away, dying by inches every day her husband was on active duty and then fading slowly of a broken heart once she’d lost him.
The sudden buzzing of her cell phone jerked Julia out of her morose thoughts and back to the present. She grabbed for the device and stared at the screen display. “Blocked Sender.”
Julia sat up and glanced at the bathroom door. Should she answer or let it ring? She wished Tuck would walk out at that moment and tell her what to do. But the shower continued on.
After the third ring, Lily woke and let out a cry.
Her nerves jangled by the evening’s events and Lily’s cries, Julia couldn’t think straight. She pressed the talk button and held the phone to her ear, her heart stopping, her vocal cords frozen in her throat.
“Julia Anderson, everyone thinks you’re dead. But I know the truth.” The raspy voice growled into Julia’s ear. “I also know what your sister sent you, before she died.”
“I d-don’t k-know what you’re talking about,” Julia