Sloan was still too much in shock at Dona Lucia’s announcement that Cruz had brought back a fiancee from Spain to relish the thought of spouting polite amenities. How could Cruz have demanded she become his wife under such circumstances? She refused to let Dona Lucia believe she was the least bit distressed by her news, which would surely be the case if she begged off. She squared her shoulders and said, “I’d love to meet her.”
It took the tap of Dona Lucia’s fan on her son’s shoulder to draw Cruz’s attention away from the young woman. “You have a visitor, my son.”
Sloan was grateful for the evening shadows that hid her expression when Cruz turned to see who it was. She fought to control her pulse as he lifted her sun-browned, callused hand to his lips.
“Cebellina! How pleased I am that you decided to come.”
Sloan swallowed, suddenly struck dumb by the pleasure she saw in Cruz’s blue eyes and heard in his voice. “I… I… that is…”
Cruz kept her hand in his as he drew her forward and said, “Cebellina, I wish to present Senorita Refugia Adela Maria Tomasita Hidalgo. Tomasita, this is my… my very dear friend, Senorita Sloan Stewart.”
The young woman respectfully nodded her head to Sloan and said in beautifully accented English, “Please, call me Tomasita. Don Cruz told me so much about you on our journey from Spain that I think of us already as friends, Senorita Stewart.”
“Call me Sloan, please.”
Tomasita smiled. “If you wish.”
It was a smile of warm welcome and acceptance and therefore completely confusing to Sloan, who had expected this high-bred Spanish woman to be as arrogantly condescending to her as Dona Lucia was.
“I hope your journey to Texas was a pleasant one,” Sloan said.
“Don Cruz has been more than kind.” Tomasita’s lashes lowered to conceal her expressive eyes, even as her hand timidly touched Cruz’s sleeve. “I do not know what I would have done if he had not arrived when he did.”
Cruz dropped Sloan’s hand and covered the slender fingers resting on his sleeve. “You have nothing to fear ever again, little one.”
Sloan watched as Tomasita raised her lashes to reveal wide blue eyes that gazed shyly at Cruz. In the next instant, Tomasita turned to Sloan and said, “You are not yet dressed for the party. Shall I take you to a room where you can bathe and change?”
Sloan found herself liking the young woman, who had extended only courtesy and friendliness to a stranger. “I need to speak privately with Cruz for a moment.”
“My son is-”
“Excuse me, Mama,” Cruz said. “Will you please take Tomasita to get a glass of punch while I speak with Sloan?”
He had phrased it as a question, but when Dona Lucia responded with tightly pressed lips, Sloan realized that it had actually been a polite command.
A moment later, Cruz had slipped his hand under Sloan’s elbow and was guiding her inside the hacienda, where they could be alone.
They crossed the covered wooden veranda and entered the
Cruz led her to a heavy rawhide chair near the stone fireplace that took up one whole wall of the room, and bade her sit down.
“I would rather stand.”
“As you wish. I am glad you came, Cebellina.”
When Cruz reached out to replace a wayward strand of her hair, his knuckles accidentally brushed against Sloan’s bruised cheek. She winced at the pain of even that slight pressure on the tender flesh.
“What is this?”
“Nothing.” Sloan instinctively covered her cheek with her hand. She realized her mistake and quickly stuck her hand in her pocket. But she saw that she had only increased Cruz’s suspicions.
“It’s nothing,” she repeated.
Cruz reached out and captured her chin, turning her face so her cheek was fully exposed to the candlelight. She watched his eyes narrow and his cheeks pale as his thumb skimmed the dark bruise on her face. “Who would dare to do this?”
She bit her lip and held still in his grip, uncertain what he would do if she tried to escape and unwilling to test his temper right now.
“Who?” he demanded.
“Rip and I had a disagreement. It’s nothing to fuss about. The bruise will go away in a few days.” She tried a wry grin, but winced when it reached her bruised cheek. “Believe me, I know. It’s happened before.”
“But it will not happen again. You belong to me now, and I protect what is mine.”
His hand circled her nape under her hair and he tilted her face up to his. Sloan shivered at the low animal threat in his voice as he continued, “You will not return to Three Oaks.”
“You presume too much!” But her voice came out in a whispered croak that was somewhat less than convincing.
Sloan would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation, except she was afraid she might become hysterical. Cruz’s authoritarian announcement rankled, but at the same time, she could hardly defy him and return to Three Oaks under the circumstances. The feeling of being trapped returned.
Sloan freed Cruz’s hand from its disturbing caress. When he started to reach for her again, she grabbed both of his hands and held them in front of her. Never having held his hands before, she was surprised at the size and strength of them.
She looked up earnestly at him. “I didn’t come here to fulfill our bargain, Cruz.” She immediately felt the tension in his hands and quickly continued, “But I do need your help.”
“You know you only have to ask, and anything I have is yours.”
Completely unnerved by her body’s tingling reaction to his touch and the husky sound of his voice, Sloan sought some way to break the growing spell between them. “Won’t you need to talk with Tomasita first?”
Cruz frowned. “Why should I want to speak of such things to Tomasita?”
She pulled her hands from his. “There’s no need for any more pretense, Cruz. Your mother told me.”
“Told you what?”
“That you’re betrothed to Tomasita. That you have been for several years.”
Cruz’s indrawn breath made Sloan feel as though the air had been sucked from her own lungs.
“Mama speaks of her dreams as reality.”
“Did she dream your betrothal?”
Cruz sighed deeply. “That much is true. When your sister Cricket ran away to marry Creed, my father was furious. He still needed the gold your father had promised him as a dowry if she married me… and so he sought it elsewhere.
“Meanwhile, I made my vows to you. My father did not tell me until he was on his deathbed that he had arranged my betrothal to the daughter of an old and dear friend.”
Cruz reached out again to lift Sloan’s chin, so she had no choice except to look into his eyes. “I promised my father only that Tomasita would be well wed, not that I would marry her myself. She is only seventeen. She would have lived her life out among the sisters in the convent if I had not brought her back with me from Spain.
“You must see I had no choice. I could not leave her there.” He searched Sloan’s face for understanding.
“Does Tomasita know… about us?”
“Of course not! And she knows nothing of the betrothal, either. She knows only that I am her guardian,” he admitted gruffly. “She will, of course, remain my responsibility until I can find her a suitable husband.”
Sloan wasn’t sure what to think. She had seen the looks exchanged by Cruz and Tomasita. Maybe he would rather have the younger woman after all. “I’ve never wanted to hold you to our bargain. I never thought it was fair to you, anyway. If you want to marry Tomasita, I won’t stand in your way.”
Cruz slanted his thumb across Sloan’s mouth to silence her. “I am happy with things as they are. I already have a wife. Just because you have denied me the right to take you to my bed does not make our vows any less sacred.”
He bent his head slightly and his lips grazed hers. By the time Sloan tensed, his lips were gone. She avoided Cruz’s eyes, afraid of what she would see there, focusing her gaze instead on the frogged braid that trimmed his velvet coat.
The touch of his lips had left her heart pounding. What was it she feared? She could not name it. She only knew there was danger if she stayed near him. Yet she had nowhere else to go. She tried to find words to put the barrier back between them.
“I can never be more to you than a friend. Your brother-”
“-was a fool.”
“-was my lover. The father of my child.”
Cruz swallowed the urge to shout, “It does not matter what you were to my brother!” It mattered. It wounded him to know she had loved his brother in a way she could never love him. He had fought the vision of Tonio lying next to her, touching her. He’d had honor enough not to try and take her from his brother, but that had not stopped him from wanting her.
“I can wait a little longer to take what is mine,” he said quietly. He did not have to say more to know that Sloan understood him.
“Can you tell me what made your father so angry that he struck you?” Cruz asked.
“I told him I wouldn’t share Three Oaks.”
Cruz frowned.
Sloan sighed and explained, “Rip found out Luke Summers is his bastard son. He’s made Luke heir to Three Oaks.”
Sloan met Cruz’s eyes and couldn’t bear the sympathy she saw there. He understood what losing Three Oaks meant to her. She had already chosen Three Oaks once before over a husband and a son. Battling her urge to weep, she forced her chin up another notch and crossed her arms under her
