need to come to a few terms here.'
'But, but' -- she sputtered.
'But you said you'd find out the truth!
You told Clara'--' I told Clara I'd find out the truth. I didn't tell
her that I'd go to war on your behalf.'
'Bastard!' Tess spat out the epithet.
'Calm down, Miss. Stuart! Such language from a very proper and genteel
young Southern woman! I told you, say what you want, and we'll take it
from there.'
'What I want? Well, I ... I want you to stay! Then when he sends his
guns, I'll have my guns!'
'Jon Red Feather and I against a horde of hired gunmen. Mm. I should
stand tall and let this man pump me full of bullets for the benefit of
having you call me a scurvy rodent?'
Tess caught her breath and tried to control her temper. She lowered her
lashes and counted to ten, then kept going to twenty, then started all
over again because he was laughing at her.
She moved suddenly, and he must have thought that she meant to strike
him because he cast an imprisoning 97 arm around her. She stiffened in
his hold.
'Lieutenant, this is completely unnecessary.'
'Is it? I can't help but feel cautious around you, Miss. Stuart.'
She swore softly.
He laughed.
'Go ahead! Laugh!' she said angrily.
'And just run like a cur with its tail between its legs-when we get to
Wiltshire.'
'A cur? I thought I was a rodent.'
'I can't find words for what you are, Lieutenant.'
'Pity,' he drawled. His eyes were on her, smoke and fire.
His arm was warm and strong around her. The heat of the sun bore down on
them, and she felt as if it touched her and brought a liquid rush
throughout her. She could not draw her eyes from his, nor could she
dispel the sudden, brilliant memory of his lips upon hers.
'We could bargain, Miss. Stuart.'
'Bargain?'
'Yes. If I'm going to die, I'd like it to be for a little more than a
smile.'
She stared at him. She felt a heat like that of the sun suffuse
throughout her body, bringing a rampant beat to her heart, a flood of
burning red to her cheeks and a tremor deep inside her. He could only
mean one thing, she was certain. If he was going to stay, he wanted her.
She should have been outraged. She should have been able to say that he
could be damned, that her honor was worth far more than her life.
Except that. There was something that washed over the outrage 'like the
deep, rich waves of the ocean. It was the same thing that caused the
pulse to beat ever more fervently in the column of her throat, the thing
that held her speechless. He watched her, that wry smile twisted so
tauntingly into his features. He was horrid. He was awful.
He was exciting, sensual, masculine. The scent of him beguiled her, just
