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me that I will never learn it!”
    “I did not say that.”
    “Well, what do you want me to do?” she exploded, unconsciously tilting her chin to an arrogant angle. “Die and come back to life as an Indian?”
    “Hardly.” Eagle’s bright eyes were dancing devilishly. “I want you to get to know the Seminoles and Miccosukees. So far all you’ve told me you know is that the Indians live in grass hovels and wrestle alligators, and that to improve their deplorable lot, you would put them into rows of whitewashed houses away from this ‘bleak’ swamp.”
    “Well?” Whitney snapped curtly. “Is it bad that I want to offer them nice homes on dry land?”
    “It is bad that you patronize!” Eagle growled, his features rigid. “If you see J. E. Stewart with an attitude like that, you’ll be spending the next decade in court.”
    “I’ll handle J. E. Stewart, thank you,” Whitney said acidly. “But I will find out more about the life-styles—”
    “And how are you going to do that?”
    “I’ll visit the damn villages, of course, you idiot!” Pure exasperation had driven Whitney to the crude name-calling; that and a profound desire to wipe the arrogant cynicism from his eyes.
    “Idiot?” Both brows raised in a high, black arch. Muscles flexed involuntarily across the expanse of his chest and down the length of his arms. Whitney shrank into the couch, regretting her snide comment and fearing that she might have incited him to violence. He stretched a hand to touch her cheek and she unwittingly emitted a small cry of fear. The tension left White Eagle’s eyes and he chuckled. “I’m not going to hurt you.” His thumb, rough and calloused, traced a pattern along her jawline, and Whitney quivered, not from fear but from the simple yet delicious sensation of the tender gesture.
    “Idiot, huh?” he repeated with a laugh. Such a fine thing she was! Like a delicate, porcelain doll. Yet as he watched her liquid gaze upon him, tremulous but full of defiance, self-righteousness and determination, he was overcome by a sense of possessive curiosity. A strange longing really to know the woman beneath the elegant trappings gripped him painfully. At the same time he wanted to break her of the proud superiority she insinuated in so many ways.
    Of course, he could easily do that with a few words. But then he would never know …
    A full, satanic smile broke across his face, highlighting his eyes with a handsome, rakish glow. Whitney stared at him incredulously, certain she was dealing with a madman.
    “What is the matter with you?” she queried crossly. “One minute you look as if you’re going to snap my head off, and the next thing I know you’re finding me vastly amusing!”
    “Nothing, nothing!” White Eagle assured her quickly. “I just had a tremendous idea.” Gripping both her small hands within his large ones, he began to quiz her. “You don’t have to see Stewart until next week, right?”
    “Right, but how did you know?”
    “You mentioned it earlier,” Eagle said quickly. “I’m assuming you’re over twenty-one and on your own, right?”
    “Right—”
    “No husband?”
    “No, I’m divorced—”
    “Good! And you seriously want to do what is best for the Indians?”
    “Of course!”
    “You want to understand them and their way of life?”
    “Yes, I told you that—”
    “Well, then, Miss Latham,” he said smugly, “I am going to help you. I will take you to meet the Miccosukees as you never would purchasing souvenirs from a roadside stand. By the time you meet with Stewart, you will have a very clear and concise picture of just what the Indians do and do not need.”
    He was quite serious, Whitney realized, but she was more confused by him than ever. “Do you mean you’re going to take me to meet your family? That—”
    “Not meet them,” Eagle interrupted. “Live with them, as one of them.”
    “What?” Whitney shrieked. “You want me to go live in a grass … a grass