Tender Taming Read Online Free PDF

had come to an end.
    “More coffee?” he inquired suddenly. “Or if you like, I can make tea.”
    “Coffee would be fine,” Whitney replied quickly, once more terribly conscious of his broad, bare chest so close beside her. The rippling gold skin was smooth and tight, completely devoid of hair. Not an inch of skin could be pinched from his form, and Whitney longed to reach out and touch it and feel the sleekness. Whoa, she told herself, suddenly dizzy and keenly aware of his clean, masculine scent. Time to move!
    Stumbling in her haste, Whitney tripped over her own feet as she tried to rise from her crossed-leg position. A strong hand immediately snaked out to steady her.
    “Thanks,” she murmured, lowering her lashes and walking gingerly to the window. White Eagle silently rose after her and calmly began to prepare a new pot of coffee.
    Leaning her forehead against the cool pane of glass, Whitney stared out into the black night. What an unusual trick of fate the evening had played upon her! Little more than an hour ago the Glades and its inhabitants had been but words and pictures in her mind. She had inadvertently stumbled into a situation that was proving more educational than any book had ever been. That she had to appreciate. The strange things that the remarkable Indian was doing to her unraveling composure were another matter entirely …
    White Eagle was watching his surprise guest, assessing her with a curiosity that would have stunned Whitney were she to know its cause. His crystal gaze softened momentarily; she looked like a beautiful, woebegone child as she stared out the window, her hair drying and fluffing around the delicate contours of her creamy face; her arms clasped tightly around a slender form that seemed incredibly petite beneath the drooping tails of his huge shirt. Then White Eagle stiffened imperceptibly; his gaze hardened again to that of a glittering gem. She was accepting his hospitality and responding with intelligence to the lessons he had attempted to give her. But she had a job to do, and that was where her interest lay. Every aspect of her—her poise, her dainty appearance, her chic though destroyed clothing—all spoke of spoiled affluence. Her attitude was condescendingly kind. A spark of anger ignited within him as he thought of her as yet another outsider determined to cause “beneficial change” while understanding nothing of the true problems.
    She turned to him suddenly with a wistful smile, and a tightness gripped his throat. God, but she was lovely!
    “Tell me,” she said with a slight shudder, “why would anyone choose to live out here in this bleakness?”
    Eagle smiled with thin lips, a motion that did not reach his eyes. He turned his back on her to pour the coffee. “The Seminoles didn’t choose to live out here originally. The name itself has two meanings: ‘runaway’ and ‘wild.’” Having poured the coffee, he sauntered over to her and continued in a biting tone. “A brief history: The Seminole and Miccosukee tribes are the descendants of the Creek Confederation—Georgia Indians. They began to migrate south in the eighteenth century, absorbing the remnants of the earlier tribes who had been mostly massacred. When Jackson became president, he determined to transplant or annihilate the Indians in Florida. The Seminole Wars began. Some of the clans signed treaties and allowed themselves to be shipped west. Others refused to be conquered. They fled further and further south, forced to the sanctuary of the swamp. They learned to live with it, adapt to it and appreciate the beauty of it. It became their land; they never surrendered to the United States government. And that, young lady, is why land simply cannot be stolen any longer. Warriors can no longer take the battle to the field, but the people can wage war in the courts with the rights of the citizens they have become!”
    Whitney found that she had backed herself into the wall as his speech had grown more