Tallchief: The Homecoming Read Online Free PDF

trust. A woman like Michelle was nothing but trouble. Her green eyes narrowed up at himas she waited. Working for Reuben, Liam hadn’t had time for dating, until Karen in his last year of high school. She was shy and sweet and he’d wanted to protect her. It was a quiet loving and she soothed him, her softness filling the empty hole in his heart.
    Michelle Farrell wasn’t shy or sweet and needed no one to protect her. She was spoiled, expensive and highly volatile, and after his reaction to her, he intended to keep his distance.
    “I can tow your car to the franchised dealer for repair. I’m not working on it,” he said carefully. He wanted her away from him, from his life. Michelle had dug in; she’d probably ride his backside until the car was repaired, and he didn’t trust himself with her.
    Those dark brown eyebrows lifted, her expression imperial. “You’d rather not work on my car. Isn’t that nice…a garage and a mechanic who can choose his customers.”
    “Yes, ma’am. But I didn’t say rather. I said I’m not.” Liam took his time, preparing his thoughts and washing the heavy grime from his hands. He dried very carefully, aware that Michelle’s grease-stained palm was still hovering, away from that taut curved body—the woman’s body he’d held in his arms last night, an unexpected sensual fever sweeping through him.
    He’d wondered then, out there in the raging summer storm, how that soft pale flesh would feel against his darker skin—with nothing but rain between them. Pushing down an uncustomary curse, he slammed a drawer of assorted bolts closed with unnecessary force.
    “Why not? Why not work on my car?” Her sharp tone told him that she wanted to take him apart—the lady demanding and expecting her rights. She wouldn’t take less than her due.
    “Don’t want to,” he said. He’d skipped the preliminaries, the warranty that would be invalidated if mechanics other than those trained in the high-priced brand worked on the car. He wished he hadn’t turned—with just that jolt of excitement—to see if he could set her off….
    “Well. How nice, Mr. Tallchief. I suppose you’ve got a waiting list, preferred customers and all that. You pump gas and order repair parts and once in a while hook your little wrecker and tow in a dead car. I don’t see any exactly special or selective services in any of that. Just why don’t I qualify as a customer?” Her dirty hand slashed the air, the wildly waving strands on the top of her head shimmering in the garage’s shadowy light. The grease mark on her cheek gleamed against golden skin too soft for the scars and calluses of his hands.
    “You can buy gas—when you’ve got a car that runs,” he offered, wondering why he was enjoying the sight of this classy woman angry with him.
    She glanced at J.T. to find him sleeping, before she tore into Liam, a courtesy he appreciated. She lowered her voice. “You’ve changed your name and your son’s to Tallchief. I want to know why. You were born Liam Cartwright.”
    “It’s my business.” He hated the darkness from the past, the bitterness lashing at him. Mary, the woman he’d thought was his mother, had insisted on his name, linking him to his rightful inheritance—and he loved her for giving him that much. The judge who legally changed Liam and J.T.’s name understood his need to give his son more. No one else had a right to his past.
    Liam wasn’t ready to explore his past, shifting from one identity to another had been difficult enough. Heknew himself well, and when he was ready, he would open the letters in the chest and face his past.
    “No, I’ve made you my business. I won’t let you hurt my friend or the family she loves. The Tallchiefs didn’t question your motives—I do.” The grease-stained hand reached to thrust against his chest, leaving the imprint of her small, graceful hand. Liam studied the black stain of a woman who wasn’t likely to give up easily. He almost