This Fierce Splendor

13

Patrick strode out of the smoking room and headed for the front door. His expression was stormy and the sharp click of his boots on the tiled foyer reflected the rebellion he had not allowed himself to express in the presence of his grandfather.

“Wait, Patrick!”

He stopped and glanced at the woman coming down the steps. “Elspeth.” His frown disappeared as his gaze ran over her slim figure dressed in a dark blue riding skirt, brown calf-high boots, and a white cotton blouse. He grinned. “Where’s our little blackbird? You look a lot like Brianne in that outfit.”

Elspeth pulled a face. “I should. These are her clothes. Rising Star, Brianne, and Silver got together last night, and suddenly I had a new wardrobe.” A tiny frown wrinkled her brow. “I don’t know if I should have taken advantage of their kindness, but they insisted. Perhaps I can find a way of repaying them.” The frown faded and she smiled at him. “It’s good to see you, Patrick. Are you well?”

He nodded, his gaze on her face. “I don’t have to ask if you’re better. You’re a little pale, but otherwise you look as fit as you did when you came to Hell’s Bluff.” He glanced down at her boots. “I gather you’re going riding.”

She nodded. “I’m going to make the attempt. I thought I’d better really learn to ride before I start for Kantalan.” Her expression brightened. “Perhaps you’d be good enough to take me to the corral and show me how to saddle one of those horses. I promise not to bother you after that.”

“No bother.” He opened the door and let her precede him. “I was going to the corral anyway.” He scowled. “Gran-da tells me Dominic is down there looking at the new mare Cort bought for Brianne.”

Elspeth cast a sidewise glance at him. “You don’t seem to be pleased about the prospect of seeing him. Silver told me he sent you away from the cabin.”

“He didn’t send me away,” Patrick said, stung. “I decided to leave.” He smiled. “Let’s just say that he can be very persuasive when he makes his mind up.” His expression darkened. “Like Gran-da, who sent for me this morning and told me to settle my differences with Dom and make him feel welcome here.”

“Are you going to do it?”

“Yes,” he said grudgingly. “As I said, Gran-da can be very persuasive. He has a tongue like a bullwhip and the stubbornness of a mule.” He paused, and there was a short silence before he burst out, “I would have done it anyway, I just don’t like to be pushed.”

And he also didn’t like the humiliation of knuckling under to his grandfather, Elspeth thought. It said much for the loyalty and respect Shamus commanded that Patrick had given in to his demand. But the boy was definitely chafing and her glance wandered around the courtyard, searching for a way to change the subject. “Is that a chapel?” She pointed to a small stucco structure slightly apart from the main house. “I wouldn’t have thought the Delaneys-” She broke off, but it was too late.

Patrick’s eyes were already dancing with amusement. “You didn’t think a family as iniquitous as the Delaneys would have any use for a church?”

“I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“No offense taken.” Patrick chuckled. “Gran-da probably wouldn’t have had the chapel built if it hadn’t been for Manuela. She raised all tarnation until he finally gave in. She even had her own priest brought up from San Felipe and wanted him to live at Killara, but Gran-da wouldn’t have it. He built Father Benedict a house in the village and lets him say mass in the chapel for the vaqueros and their families on Sunday, but that’s as far as he would go.”

“That seems very generous.”

“Oh, Gran-da can be generous.” He scowled. “When he’s not being a son of-” He stopped and then substituted “difficult.” He stiffened. “There’s Dom.”

Elspeth followed his gaze. Dominic straddled the top pole of the corral fence, watching a sorrel mare in the corral. He glanced down at the vaquero on the ground beside the fence and said something, then laughed as the man answered. The vaquero had to be an old and trusted member of the Killara household, Elspeth thought absently; his expression held far too much affection for Dominic for the situation to be otherwise.

Then Dominic’s gaze rose and he saw her and Patrick walking toward him. The smile curving his lips faded and then was gone. “Hello, Elspeth.” He inclined his head. “Patrick.”

Patrick was equally formal. “Welcome home, Dom.” He looked from his uncle to the sorrel on the far side of the corral. “What do you think of her?”

“She’s fast, but I’ve heard the Kentucky horses don’t have the stamina we need out here and their temperament causes them to do some pretty stupid things.” His gaze met Patrick’s. “You know Killara can be pretty unforgiving of mistakes.”

Patrick stood looking at him and then a slow smile lit his face. “I haven’t found that to be true. You’re usually allowed one mistake as long as it’s not repeated.”

Apology tendered, apology accepted, Elspeth thought with amusement and the pride of both men remained intact.

“I’ve been trying to get Brianne to let me ride the mare, but she’s being damn selfish.” Patrick glanced at Elspeth. “Maybe you’ll have better luck.”

Elspeth cast an apprehensive glance at the spirited horse. “I wouldn’t want to ride a horse Brianne valued. Besides, it looks a little… large.”

“You’re going riding?” Dominic’s tone was sharp. “You don’t even know how to ride. Where the devil is Silver?”

“Silver is spending the morning with Rising Star. I decided it was time I learned and I’m sure it isn’t as complicated as-”

“Is Rising Star sick?” Patrick asked, his gaze anxiously on the house.

“No, but I understand they get little opportunity to spend time together and I didn’t wish to intrude.” She turned to Patrick. “Will you choose a horse for me?”

Patrick hesitated. “I don’t think we have any horses that are right for a tenderfoot.”

“Maybe the gray,” said the vaquero Dominic had been speaking to as they arrived. “Nina is very old and has not the energy to cause the señorita trouble.” There was a gentle smile on his round moon face. “Shall I saddle her? I don’t think she would hurt you.”

“Yes, please.” Elspeth smiled gratefully at the Mexican. He was of medium height and garbed in dark denim trousers and a bright blue cotton shirt. A blue bandanna banded his forehead and held back the shiny dark hair that fell to his shoulders. His large black eyes were gazing at her with eagerness and warmth. “That would be very kind of you, Señor…?”

“Ramon Torres,” Patrick supplied. “This is Señorita MacGregor, Ramon.” He looked again at the gray mare Ramon had indicated. “I think she’ll do for Elspeth. Cut her out, Ramon.”

“Sí.” Ramon nodded quickly and grabbed his lariat from the corral post. “It will only be a minute.” He opened the gate and slipped among the milling horses.

“I don’t like this, Patrick.” Dominic’s voice was tight.

Patrick looked at him in surprise. “Ramon’s right. The gray is the gentlest horse on the ranch. All she’ll have to do is hold on.”

“I don’t like her going riding at all. For God’s sake, she isn’t strong yet. What if she gets tired and takes a fall?”

“Will you kindly stop speaking of me as if I weren’t here?” Elspeth asked in exasperation. “If I get tired, I’ll stop. If I fall off, I’ll get back on. It’s very simple.”

Patrick’s lips twitched. “Yes, Dom, what’s wrong with you? You heard her, you’re building mountains out of molehills.”

“I was the one who had to pick her up when she fell off one of those mountains, and I don’t want to have to do it again.”

Elspeth felt a swift jab of pain at the hardness of Dominic’s voice. “You needn’t worry, I have no intention of asking that of you.” She turned to watch Ramon Torres stalk the gray with surprising grace and swiftness for a man of his stolid, squat proportions. “He’s very good at this, isn’t he?”

Dominic’s moody glance left her face and shifted to the Mexican in the corral. “Has he been at Killara very long, Patrick? The last time I was here, old Tomas was taking care of the horses.”

“About three months. We didn’t really need anyone, but he was a wonder with the animals, so we took him on. It was a good thing we did, because we found Tomas in the stable with his head split open two weeks later. We figured he must have fallen from the hayloft and hit his head on the anvil.” His face became shadowed. “I liked old Tomas.”

“You hadn’t met Ramon before today?” Elspeth asked. How strange. She couldn’t have mistaken the expression on the Mexican’s face as he looked at Dominic. She had received such a vivid impression of the man’s feeling for Dominic. “I thought he had been at Killara for a long time.”

“Dominic and Patrick both looked at her in surprise.

“Why would you assume that?” Dominic asked.

Elspeth frowned. “I don’t know. I guess it was because he was looking at you with such… affection.”

Patrick burst into laughter. “It isn’t men Dom usually inspires to instant affection. Perhaps we should inquire about Ramon’s tastes.”

“I don’t understand,” Elspeth said.

Dominic shot Patrick a lethal glance. “Of course you don’t, but I’m sure our Patrick will be willing to explain.”

Patrick looked a little sheepish. “Sorry, that kind of slipped out.” His gaze went to Ramon Torres, who had managed to lasso the gray mare and was leading her out of the corral. “Come on, I’ll get you Brianne’s old saddle from the barn. It will be lighter and easier for you to handle.”

The two men had evidently decided the subject was closed, Elspeth realized with frustration. They had both laughed at her and yet she knew she was right. Ramon had looked at Dominic with an almost loving gaze. “Thank you, that would be a great help. I certainly don’t want to have to depend on any man for assistance.”

Patrick pursed his lips in a silent whistle. “No, ma’am. You sure wouldn’t want that.”

Elspeth smiled reluctantly. Patrick might belong to the conspiracy of male supremacy, but he was trying to help her. “Which way should I ride so that I won’t get lost?”

“You don’t have to worry about that as long as you stay in the valley. You can see the house from practically everywhere.” He frowned. “Just stay away from the Mexican village. Sometimes the vaqueros drink a little too much mescal.”

“You’re letting her go by herself?” Dominic snapped. “For God’s sake, what are you thinking of?”

“Gran-da told me to go back to Shamrock today and help them finish up.” Patrick smiled innocently. “You’re the only one who’s not doing anything. I think you’re the one who should go with her.”

“No one has to go with me. I told you-” She broke off as she met Dominic’s gaze. He looked so strange. His gray-blue eyes were blazing, yet the curve of his lips was not tight but full and sensual. The tension emanating from him was nearly tangible.

“I’ve stopped listening to what you tell me,” he said thickly. He stood as if a statue, staring at her with his light eyes brilliant, restless. He turned away. “I’ll go saddle my horse. Be ready to leave in ten minutes.” Before she could speak he was walking swiftly toward the barn.

Patrick laughed softly. “I think Uncle Dom is a tad upset this morning. We’d better humor him and be sure we’re ready when he is. I’ll saddle the gray this time and tell you how to do it as I go along, okay?”

She nodded. “Splendid.” She cast a glance at the entrance to the barn through which Dominic had disappeared. She didn’t want Dominic with her, but no one seemed to care what her preferences were in the matter. She turned to Patrick. “Why don’t you go and say hello to Silver and Rising Star before you leave? I know they want to see you.”

Patrick’s smile disappeared. “I don’t have much time. I have to get over to Shamrock.”

Elspeth frowned. He hadn’t seemed in the least hurry to depart before this. “Don’t you want to see them? I know you like Silver and I thought you and Rising Star were old friends. Brianne told me that you all had lessons together when Rising Star first came to Killara.”

“That’s right.” Patrick kept his eyes fixed on the gray horse that Ramon was leading through the corral gate. “Rising Star didn’t know now to read or write English, of course, so Gran-da hired a school-teacher from back east to live at the house and give the three of us lessons.” He suddenly smiled. “But in three years Rising Star knew more than the teacher, so Gran-da let the schoolmarm go and Rising Star taught us. I’ve never seen anything like the way she worked to learn. She couldn’t seem to get enough. You should have seen the way her eyes would light up when she caught on to something. Lord, she was beautiful. Not like she is now. She’s different now. Just as beautiful, but different. When she first came to Killara, Brianne and I were four and she was sixteen but she seemed as much a child as we were. She was always laughing and joking and making up games.”

Elspeth’s gaze rested on his face and she experienced a flicker of anxiety she didn’t fully understand. It had something to do with the glow of tenderness illuminating Patrick’s eyes. “Then why don’t you go to the house and see them?”

He turned and looked across the courtyard at the house. He didn’t speak for a moment and Elspeth had the feeling he had forgotten she was there. “Maybe I will,” he murmured. “Just for a minute.” He tugged his hat down over his eyes and turned away abruptly, starting across the stableyard toward the barn. “First I’ll go fetch Brianne’s saddle for you.”

Elspeth stared after him, surprised at the suddenness of his departure, and then turned to look at Ramon, standing a few yards away holding the gray mare. His dark lustrous eyes watched her with bland good humor, and, as his gaze met her own, he smiled at her.

A sweet smile, but not the tender, loving one he had given Dominic.

“You were right, it is far more painful to trot,” Elspeth said.

“What?” Dominic looked over his shoulder, his expression abstracted. Elspeth experienced a surge of annoyance. It was the first word he had uttered since they set out an hour ago and exactly reflected the moody remoteness he had exhibited the entire time. There had been no need for her to be apprehensive about Dominic’s coming with her. She might as well have been alone. “You told me once it was more painful to trot than to gallop. I’m ready to attest to it.”

“I do recall saying that.” He remembered saying more than those words. He had told her that their next ride would be more enjoyable, but that hadn’t proved true. Not for him. The ride back to Hell’s Bluff from the cabin had been sheer torture, and this trip today had been little better. The tension coiled within him like barbed wire. No matter which way he turned to try to free himself, it only drove the barbs deeper.

He had tried not to look at her, not to speak to her, but it had done little good. She was there. He had never been so excruciatingly conscious of the physical presence of anyone before. Last night he had lain sleepless for hours, his body rigid and aroused and as aware of Elspeth lying in the bed in the chamber next door as if there were no walls separating them. His nerves had been tuned to such a pitch that he felt if she turned over in her sleep or her breathing changed tempo, he would know. “Do you want to stop and rest?” he asked.

Elspeth cast a glance at the red tiled roof on the house in the valley below. From here, on this summit in the foothills, it looked small and far away. Too far to attempt until she eased the nagging ache in the hollow of her spine and the numbness of her bottom. “Just for a little while.” She added politely, “If you don’t mind. I know I’ve taken a great deal of your time and-”

“For God’s sake, I don’t mind.” He cut her off harshly. “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to stop.” He got off his horse and came around to stand by the mare. “I told you this wasn’t a good idea.”

“It was a good idea,” she said indignantly. “In spite of your forebodings, I didn’t fall off and it’s perfectly natural for me to become a little tired. There was no need for you to come with me, and I don’t need you to stay with me now. Why don’t you go back and-”

“Be quiet.” He jerked her from the saddle with more swiftness than gentleness. “You wanted to rest.” He set her on her feet, took the mare’s reins, and turned away. “Rest.”

She watched him lead his own horse and the gray mare down the trail and tether them to a pine tree several yards distant. Then he was turning and coming back to her, a brown saddle blanket over his arm, his expression as hard and closed as it had become from the moment he had seen her walking toward him across the stableyard this morning.

He spread the blanket beneath a pine tree a few yards away. “Sit down.”

She was becoming very tired of both his churlishness and his orders, but it would have been ridiculous to refuse a much needed rest out of sheer contrariness. She crossed to the blanket and sat down. The ground was hard but far better than the saddle which had reminded her of an instrument of torture before she had been on it more than fifteen minutes. She stretched her legs out in front of her, supporting herself on her arms. The sky was a brilliant blue between the spiky fronds of the evergreen branches above her, and it was blessedly cool here among the trees. A bird was singing somewhere above her and the air was full of the scent of crushed grass and pine. The surroundings were inexpressibly soothing, and, in a world so lovely, she found it difficult to remain annoyed with Dominic.

Perhaps he had a good reason for his shortness with her; he had probably wanted to spend these precious hours at Killara with his family yet felt it his duty to come with her. Heaven only knew, she had been burden enough of late to annoy a saint. Her dreamy gaze shifted from the peaceful blue sky to Dominic, who sat leaning against the gray-brown bole of a pine tree a few feet away. His arms were linked loosely around his drawn-up knees and his black stetson was pulled low to shadow his features. It was a relaxed position, but he was radiating a tension that seemed to reach out and touch her with its leashed power. He disturbed her, and she didn’t wish to be disturbed in this tranquil spot. She moistened her lips nervously with her tongue, trying to think of something to say that would rid the atmosphere between them of that disquieting emotional charge.

“Don’t do that!”

Her gaze flew to his face. “I beg your pardon?”

He drew a harsh breath, his fingers clenching together so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Never mind.” He closed his eyes. “Talk to me.”

She stared at him in bewilderment. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t care.” Anything to keep him thinking and not feeling. Anything to keep him from going over the edge.

She was silent, looking at him. What did he want from her? He was in need-she could feel it-but she didn’t know how to fill that need. Yet she desperately wanted to help him, she realized suddenly. “Shall I tell you about Kantalan?”

“Why not? Dreams are as good as anything else.”

“Its not a dream.” For some reason she experienced no resentment from the impatient comment. “Oh, I suppose dreams were a part of it, but if I hadn’t had more than that to hold on to, they wouldn’t have been enough to sustain me through all those arguments with my father.”

“I thought he believed Kantalan existed.”

“He did.” She looked down and began absently to smooth the creases in her riding skirt. “That wasn’t what the arguments were about. It was the city’s origin that my father wouldn’t…” She drew a shaky breath. “He said I was a fool, that I was an ignorant child who would never approach either his knowledge or his insight.” Her nails dug into the heavy gabardine of the skirt. “Maybe he was right about me, but he was wrong in this. I know he was wrong. Kantalan wasn’t built by the Toltecs, it was a separate colony. All the clues were there but he refused even to try to put them together.”

“Colony?” Dominic’s lids had opened and his light eyes were gleaming in the shadowy darkness of his face.

She wished she could see his expression, those translucent, burning eyes watching her were making her a little nervous. “Have you ever heard of a place called Atlantis?”

He didn’t answer her for a moment. “If I have, I don’t remember it.”

“Atlantis was an island, the birthplace of civilization. It was destroyed by a great earthquake that sent it to the bottom of the sea. Everyone thinks it’s a fable made up by Plato, but I believe it existed.” She paused. “And I believe Kantalan was one of its colonies.” She waited, as if expecting him to refute her words. When he didn’t speak, she rushed on. “Oh, I know Atlantis was supposed to have been in the Mediterranean and Kantalan half a world away, but there are too many similiarities for them not to be tied together somehow. No argument can convince me that Kantalan didn’t spring from Atlantis.”

“I’m not arguing, Elspeth. I’m listening.”

And watching her with an intentness that made her heart pound and her mouth grow dry. She looked down again, her finger nervously resuming its tracing of the crease in the fabric of her skirt. “I’m sorry, I guess I’ve become accustomed to defending my theory from attack.” She moistened her lips again with her tongue. She heard a low sound, as if Dominic had suddenly shifted, but when she looked up she realized she must have been mistaken; he was sitting in the same place. Watching her. “It seemed so clear to me. There are so many similiarities.”

“What similiarities?”

“The legend of Kantalan speaks of its great pyramids, and Atlantis had pyramids. Both civilizations worshiped Ra, the sun god. Atlantis had four rivers intersecting the city and Kantalan is said also to have had four rivers forming a cross in the middle of the city. The legend speaks of a great lodestone in the temple of Ra that had magical properties. What other civilization could have given birth to such a wonder? Oh, there are so many things. I believe that the Egyptians, Toltecs, Mayans, and the Incas were also colonies, but that they somehow evolved differently. Perhaps because of Kantalan’s isolation it was able to retain its similarities to the mother country. Dear heaven, I hope that’s true. Can you imagine actually being there, studying a city that’s a mirror of Atlantis?”

“No, I can’t imagine it.”

“Well, I can.” Her eyes glowed softly with excitement and her breasts were rising and falling with each breath. “I can imagine strolling through the streets and seeing the statues of the ten kings, of walking into the palaces and finding the ceilings of ivory and walls of gold. I can imagine seeing the four rivers that form a cross and the-”

“Stop!” He was suddenly beside her, pushing her back on the blanket. He had tossed his hat aside and she could see what had been hidden in its shadow. Her breath left her body and heat turned her bones soft and melting. His chest labored with the harshness of his breathing and a pulse pounded wildly in the hollow of his throat. “I can’t imagine any of those things. I don’t know anything about Atlantis or Kantalan. I don’t even want to know. All I want is you.” His lips covered hers with a fervor that brought no pain. His arms closed around her with desperation, his hands tangling in her hair as he moved over her. His lips worked swiftly, feverishly, draining her of strength in a hundred kisses that robbed her of breath and made her head spin.

“No!” she murmured. “I don’t want this.”

“Yes, you do,” he muttered. “We both do.” His tongue plunged into her mouth, stroking her with warmth. Lowering his hips, he moved slowly, yearningly, against her.

She gasped, a shiver tingling through her. Maybe he was right. Maybe she did want this to happen, she thought dazedly. It was difficult to decide with this haze of heat enclosing her. Dominic’s fingers were swiftly unbuttoning her blouse, pushing down the straps of her chemise. She should stop him.

Her breasts were swollen, hurting as they had the night they’d ridden back to Hell’s Bluff. She gazed up at Dominic’s face in helpless fascination. His sun-gilded skin was flushed, his lips drawn back from his teeth in a feral grimace. Slowly he pulled down the bodice of her chemise and looked at her. Something strange began to happen to her then. Her nipples were turning hard, rosy, tight, and she had a wild urge to lift herself, offer her breasts to the man looking at them with such hunger. But she didn’t have to offer, his dark head was lowering slowly and his breath came out in a low groan.

“This is what I’ve wanted to do a thousand times in the last few weeks,” he said hoarsely. “I wanted to get rid of these damn clothes and look at you.” His hand closed on her left breast and his palm tightened around it, throwing the pink crest into pointed prominence. “I wanted to make you bloom for me.” His mouth enveloped her, his lips sucking strongly as if to pull the nectar from a honey-sweet flower.

Fire. In her veins, in the soles of her feet, in the air flowing through her lungs. She cried out, her spine arching up to him.

He was murmuring thickly, feverishly, as his tongue gently teased the nipple he had brought to life and subjugation. “I want to know that all I have to do is reach out and touch you and this will happen.” His hand wandered down her body. “Spread your legs, love. I want to feel how soft you are down there.” His palm gently rubbed between her thighs. She tensed, inhaling sharply. The material separating them was a pitifully inadequate barrier against the warm hardness and fiery friction. “I dream about you, do you know that? I dream I’m looking at this pretty part of you and I remember how you felt against my hand.”

She wasn’t fighting him, perhaps this was what she had wanted to happen. Perhaps she was so lost to virtue that she wanted to give herself to Dominic Delaney as his other women had. Cats in the dark…

“No!” She rolled suddenly to the opposite side of the blanket. She had caught him by surprise. “You’re wrong, I’m not like…” Tears were suddenly raining down her cheeks. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why?” He lifted his head, his eyes blazing. “Because I’m going insane.” His face was taut with strain. “For God’s sake, stop crying.” His hands closed into fists as if fighting for control. “You’re not hurt.”

She wasn’t sure that was true. There was a dull, empty ache between her thighs and a sharp pain somewhere near her heart. She sat up, adjusted her chemise, and quickly buttoned her blouse. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “I know that.”

“Then stop wailing.” He stood up, leaned down, and lifted her roughly to her feet. “You’ve ‘rested’ long enough. We’re going back to the house.” He picked up his hat, turned, and strode down the trail to where the horses were tethered.

“I don’t know why you’re angry with me,” she called. She wrapped her arms around herself to stop the trembling. “It’s not my fault you’re having to do without your hetaeras.”

He didn’t answer. He untied the horses and led them up the trail.

“It’s not sensible to be upset with me just because I resisted your advances. You’re certainly no gentleman.”

A flare of anger lit his pale eyes with icy fire. “No, you’re right, I’m no gentleman, I’m a fool. I’ve been acting like a bloody sheepbrain, sighing and afraid to speak, lusting but afraid to touch.” His hands closed on her waist and he tossed her onto the saddle. “No more, Elspeth. No more.”

She looked down at him, her fair hair tumbled to her shoulders in a wild cloud of tawny gold, her eyes as green as the pine forest around her. “What are you saying?” she whispered.

“That you’ve made me into a milksop, a weakling.” His lips parted in a reckless smite. “Somewhere in our acquaintance I stopped being Dominic Delaney and became Elspeth MacGregor’s whipping boy. But it’s come to an end, Elspeth.”

“I never tried to change you.” She lifted her chin. “Not that you couldn’t have used a good deal of reformation.”

“Perhaps you didn’t have to try. Maybe guilt did the task for you. Whenever I thought I’d broken the chains that held me, you managed to forge new ones to hold me at your heels.” His smile deepened and she was suddenly seeing the rakish devil-beauty she had encountered that first evening Dominic had walked into the parlor at the hotel. “Well, it’s over. I once told Patrick I was my father’s son. You’d best remember that, sweetheart. Da and I take what we want and worry about the consequences later.” He turned away and swung into the saddle. “I didn’t have to let you go just now. I figure that makes us even. I don’t owe you anything any longer.” He turned his horse and started down the trail. “And I won’t be fool enough to let you go again. Lock your door tonight. Don’t be alone with me for a minute. Never believe a word I tell you.” He glanced over his shoulder to direct a mocking smile at her. “And you might remain a virgin for another twenty-four hours.” He turned around and kicked the black into a gallop. “But it’s not likely. Not likely at all, Elspeth.”

Ramon Torres sighed morosely as he slid the rifle back into its saddle holster. He remounted Chiquita, turned, and whipped the mare into a dead run. It was necessary he be back at Killara before Delaney, and the man was moving at a breakneck pace down the trail. Ah, well, he would make it. He had scouted these hills and knew every shortcut possible. It was a necessary precaution for a man in his profession to know the lay of the land.

He really should have taken the shot, but he had never dreamed Dominic would stop before he had entered the little gringa. Ramon still felt the disappointment eating at him. He had wanted desperately to watch his prey moving in and out of his woman, unknowing of the power that, he, Ramon, held over him. He could feel his loins harden at the thought of looking down the sight of his rifle and slowly, very slowly, pulling the trigger.

His lips curved in a smile of genuine enjoyment as he realized what a fine death that would be for any man. He wanted Dominic Delaney to have a death worthy of him. He had a fine bold name and possessed the dark, dangerous beauty of a great cat. It was going to be a rare pleasure to put Dominic down, and this little setback should not really bother Ramon. He had found that unexpected twists of fate often made the game only more exciting. He was glad he hadn’t been hasty. Now he could savor the kill. Perhaps he would even pamper himself and get close enough to watch Dominic’s eyes as he died.

Dominic wanted the gringa. God alone knew why the man had stopped when she had resisted him, but it might be to Ramon’s advantage. There was no more potent bait under the sun than a bitch in heat and no more thrilling kill than the death of a man who was enjoying life to the fullest.

He suddenly laughed aloud as an amusing idea occurred to him. Why not make Dominic a present of the gringa? Then Ramon could lie in the loft tonight and look at the great house and imagine what Dominic was doing to the woman. It would bring him the most delicious pleasure, to know he was controlling the prey unbeknownst to Dominic, and the possession of a woman always brought a feeling of joy and satisfaction to a man that made life infinitely sweeter.

His laughter faded but the smile of satisfaction remained as he leaned low over Chiquita’s neck and murmured softly, urging her to go faster. Ah, yes, Dominic Delaney might yet get his chance for the fine death Ramon had planned for him.