Tender Taming Read Online Free

was literally his prisoner in the frightening Glades.
    “Madam,” he answered slowly, sipping his own coffee, “even I do not have perfect vision in the darkness. I seldom receive social calls at my cabin on flooded nights like this. I heard you; I followed you to find out who you were and what you were up to. Then I did try to help you and all I got for my efforts was a lump on the forehead.”
    Whitney gnawed her lower lip pensively. There was an ugly black bruise sprouting along his temple where the blow from her makeshift club had struck. “I—I’m sorry—I didn’t know what you were—you might have been an alligator or—”
    The deep, mellow sound of his laughter interrupted her; his amusement was now open and more infuriating than ever. “This is incredible!” he said as he chuckled throatily. “You were going to ward off a hungry alligator with twelve inches of mangrove root?”
    “Well, I started off with a can of Mace—”
    “Oh, Lord!” he scoffed. “That’s even better. Mating an alligator!”
    Fighting her rage and discomfiture, Whitney tried to lodge a protest. “I—”
    “Never mind.” He sat across the room from her and turned his quizzing to another vein, still keeping his steadfast eyes locked upon her. “Where were you headed?”
    “Naples—of course!” Even she knew the highway led in only one direction. “Why?”
    “Just curious. It’s so pathetically obvious you’ve never been in these parts, I thought I’d make sure you were in the right state.”
    That was the final straw. She had admitted her stupidity, her foolishness. She had apologized profusely for it. There was no way she was going to sit and quietly accept insults from this arrogant know-it-all! Storming to her feet with a spray of mud, she declared imperiously, “That’s enough! I don’t have to endure this from some alligator-wrestling Seminole—”
    “Miccosukee,” he interrupted with droll complacency, her outburst having amused him further rather than angered him.
    “Pardon?” Startled, Whitney dropped her raving from inborn and inbred politeness.
    “Miccosukee,” he repeated, a handsome smile spreading across his face. “Same nation, different tribe. The US government recognized us years ago.” As she stared at him, lost and still confused by his words, he added, “But I do wrestle alligators now and then. Don’t all of us Glades Indians?” he asked, his bronze face guileless with pretend naiveté.
    Releasing a pent-up breath, Whitney found herself laughing. He was teasing her, but then she deserved his words. She did have preconceived notions about a people of whom she was totally ignorant. “I don’t know,” she answered with a return smile prettily highlighting her face despite its grimy condition. “Do you all wrestle alligators?”
    He sipped his coffee and grinned enigmatically. “Are you here on business?”
    “Yes, I am.”
    “And what might your business be?”
    Whitney decided that answering his questions could cause no harm. His frank, unwavering stare was still upon her and his queries were domineering and autocratic, but he did seem to have a sense of humor. Besides, she was in his cabin and at his mercy.
    “I work for T and C Development,” she said. Suddenly realizing that he was one of the Indians she would be trying to cajole to her point of view, she warmed to her subject and became professionally charming. “We have a land dispute going with the Seminole Nation,” she told him truthfully. “I’m supposed to work with a Jonathan E. Stewart and come to an equitable conclusion.” Almost to herself she frowned and added, “I wonder why the Seminoles didn’t choose one of their own to enter the negotiations?”
    Amusement was back in his glacial eyes. In fact, they were twinkling away merrily; “The council believes Stewart will represent them with their best interests at heart,” he answered.
    “You know about this!” Whitney exclaimed, very eager now to hear