Free Lakota Renegade by Madeline Baker

the battered chair, the slop jar under the bed, the cold iron bars that separated them. How could he make jokes at a time like this?
    “What are you doing here?” he asked, wondering at her silence. “Your sister made it pretty clear that she didn’t want you to have anything to do with me.”
    Jassy shrugged, as if what Rose wanted was of no importance. “I brought you something.”
    She’d been holding one hand behind her back. Now, she brought it out, revealing a brown paper bag.
    Creed arched one black brow. “Cookies,” he guessed.
    Taking the bag from her hand, he placed it, very carefully, on the foot of the cot. “You shouldn’t have come here, Jassy.”
    “I thought you might be lonely.”
    Lonely? He was madder than hell at being locked up. He was more than a little worried about the outcome of a trial, especially considering his reputation, but he hadn’t realized he was lonely until the words fell from her lips. It hit him with stark clarity that he’d been lonely most of his adult life.
    And for the first time in his life, he was worried about someone besides himself. He couldn’t go to prison! Damn, he hated to think what would happen to Jassy when he was gone. Anger roiled within him, threatening to choke him, as he recalled how Rose had offered to sell him a few hours of Jassy’s time.
    Damn. “Jassy…”
    “I saw what happened in the street last night.”
    Creed frowned. “You did? How?”
    “I wanted to see you, to ask you what Rosie said.”
    “Hell of a time for a girl your age to be prowling around,” Creed muttered.
    “I wasn’t prowling around. Oh, Creed, I was so scared. You might have been killed.”
    Relief washed through him, sweeter and more potent than wine. She’d seen it. He had a witness who could testify in his behalf.
    Creed swore under his breath. He hadn’t wanted to involve Jassy in this mess, but now it couldn’t be helped.
    “Are you all right?” Jassy asked, frowning at him.
    “Yeah.” Lord, he hated it when she looked up at him like that, her brown eyes all soft and warm, her lips slightly parted. It made him think of warm summer nights along the Powder River, when he had been young and anything was possible.
    Unable to help himself, he reached through the bars and took the ribbon from her hair, running his hands through the silk of her hair until it framed her face.
    “Why did you do that?” she asked.
    “Damned if I know.”
    But he did know. He liked the way she looked with her hair down, and he wondered when red had become his favorite color.
    “You never told me what Rose said.”
    And he never would, not when a lie would be kinder than the truth. “She told me to stay the hell away from you if I knew what was good for me.”
    “Oh.”
    “The hell of it is, I do know what’s good for me.”
    Jassy looked up at him, her brown eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Do you?” she asked, her voice quivering.
    “You’re good for me, Jassy,” Creed murmured. “Too good, but I can’t seem to leave you alone.”
    His words were the sweetest she’d ever heard, and she swayed toward him, unmindful of the bars that crushed her breasts. Slowly, she rose on her tiptoes, her gaze quietly beseeching him to kiss her.
    Creed hesitated for a moment and then he put his arms around her as best he could considering the bars that stood between them and kissed her, savoring the taste of her lips. She was sweet, so sweet. She tasted of youth and innocence, of burgeoning womanhood. He’d never known anything so exhilarating, never felt such an intense need to possess, or such a powerful urge to shelter and protect, which was pretty funny, he thought, seeing as how he was the one locked up.
    “Ah, Jassy,” he murmured and kissed her again, his tongue delving into the dark secret recesses of her mouth.
    Jassy’s legs went weak and she leaned against the bars, her arms wrapping around Creed’s waist. She had been so afraid he would refuse to see her, afraid