“Dona Lucia will not hear of this,” Cruz interrupted, his tone commanding obedience. “As you said, we were merely playing a game. No harm has been done.”
Sloan wasn’t so sure.
There was something more in Tomasita’s sapphire eyes when she looked up at Cruz now than had been there before, something that suggested the lively, precocious child had given way to the demure, uncertain woman.
And Cruz’s eyes followed Tomasita in a way they hadn’t before.
None of the adults were in the mood to play tag any longer, and Cruz only managed to hush Cisco’s protesting cries by gathering him up for a piggyback ride down to the nearby spring.
“It is my duty to guard your honor,” Josefa said to Tomasita when Cruz had gone. “But you must also do your part.”
“But-”
“Listen to me!” Josefa admonished fiercely. “If you continue to act so little the lady, no man will want you for his wife.”
Sloan saw from Tomasita’s trembling hands as she gathered up the picnic supplies that the young woman was humiliated by Josefa’s words. Tomasita’s flushed face revealed she was still confused by her reaction to Cruz.
Reluctant as Sloan was to admit it, she thought perhaps Cruz had been as surprised by the womanly form and potential for passion that lay hidden beneath Tomasita’s proper facade as Tomasita was herself.
Sloan felt a queer tightness in her chest. She recognized it as jealousy. She had told Cruz she didn’t want to be his wife. Only now that she saw him with Tomasita, she realized she didn’t want him to be some other woman’s husband, either. She was angry with herself for feeling so ambivalent. Either she wanted to be Cruz’s wife or she didn’t. Which was it?
She had never questioned her attraction to Cruz. But she had done everything in her power not to fall in love with him.
First, she knew the power that would give him: He would not have to command-she would be more than willing to obey. She did not think she could ever learn to trust him enough to give him such a hold on her.
And second, as irrational as she knew it was-and that was what really galled her-she could not help fearing that if she let herself love him, he would die and leave her alone.
So where did that leave her? Unsettled. Unsure. And undecided.
Cruz returned to find the three women had packed away the picnic supplies and were ready to return home. Sloan refused to meet Cruz’s eyes, and merely agreed with him when he suggested they should leave.
“We must do this again sometime soon,” Cruz said, with forced cheerfulness.
Sloan answered with the ambivalence she had been feeling since the game of tag. “If I’m still at Dolorosa, it might be fun.”
Cruz’s lips pressed together in disapproval, but Sloan noticed he didn’t contradict her. Too bad, she thought. She was itching for a good fight.
Chapter 7
SLOAN NORMALLY ROSE WITH THE COCK’S CROW and was out in the fields by first light. So she felt chagrined when she awoke on her second day at the Guerrero hacienda and realized daybreak had found her abed. She wasn’t sure what had finally awakened her until she saw the shadowy form sitting beside her on the bed.
She jerked at the sheets to cover herself as she hurriedly sat up. “What are you doing here?”
“I have duties I must see to, and I did not want to leave without speaking with you.”
Sloan had never been more aware of Cruz’s claim on her than now, when he made no apology for observing her in her sleep. “You’re here now. Talk.”
She was startled when he grasped her shoulders and forced her to lie back down. She met his eyes, then let her gaze drop to the long, tanned fingers that touched her skin. Her gaze rose again to meet his, the demand for release there for him to read. He ignored it.
Cruz couldn’t believe the seductive picture she made with her glorious sable hair scattered in abandon on the pillow. She had never looked more like his heart’s desire.
Sloan tensed when Cruz braced his palms on either side of her head, effectively imprisoning her without even laying a hand on her. Her flesh shimmered in excitement. Her blood went streaking through her veins. She felt as though he had taken ropes and spread-eagled her helplessly before him. Her whole body tautened, struggling against invisible bonds, waiting with delicious urgency for what was to come.
“I have made arrangements for you to rest today,” he said, his voice rich and deep.
“I’m not tired.”
“The dark circles under your eyes say otherwise.”
She turned her face away to escape his piercing gaze.
“Look at me.” When she didn’t respond, he reached out to cup her chin with his hand and gently turned her face toward him.
“Humor me. Rest today.”
“And tomorrow?”
“We will speak of that tomorrow.”
“What will you be doing today?” Sloan asked.
“The fall roundup has begun. I ride with my vaqueros.”
“I want to come along.”
“It is not done.” At Sloan’s frown, he added, “A lady does not ride with the vaqueros on Dolorosa.”
Sloan heard the censure in his voice. It was exactly the kind of rein she had expected him to exert on her behavior, but it distressed her to feel its tug so soon. She had trouble keeping the asperity from her voice. “With whom does a lady ride?”
“With her brother or her father… or her husband.”
“So you’re saying that unless you’re my… husband… I can’t ride with you?”
He smiled gently. “That is the way of it.”
“That’s an old-fashioned attitude that doesn’t belong in Texas.”
“In Texas, as elsewhere, a woman obeys her man-as she should.”
“You’re not my man!” Sloan snapped.
“Ah, Cebellina, and whose fault is that?”
The tension crackled between them. She denied his sensual challenge by refusing to acknowledge it. “I need something to keep me busy. I’m used to working. I can’t simply lie abed all day and do nothing. I want to come with you on the roundup.”
“No.”
Sloan looked into Cruz’s deep blue eyes and saw that on this, he would not compromise. Her chin jutted mulishly. “You can’t stop me.”
Before she could react, his fingers had laced with hers above her head, and he had covered her with his body. She stiffened, fighting her body’s riotous reaction to his-tender breasts swollen against a hard chest, a concave belly arching to male hips, slender thighs pressed to corded muscles of steel.
Her voice bit like a whip, hard and sharp. “Let me go.”
“You will stay at the hacienda?”
Sloan’s lip curled derisively. “Is this the way you treat all your guests? Am I a prisoner now?” She watched as chagrin altered his stony countenance, then saw a wry smile forming.
“No one else would dare to provoke me the way you do.”
Cruz caressed the calluses on her hands, recognizing them as the signs of a life spent laboring as no woman should have to do. He wanted to cosset her, to treat her like a queen. But she wanted none of it. He could not help admiring her for her spirit, but at the same time he shook his head in dismay at her willfulness. Perhaps it would not be so bad to let her come with him… another time.
He released her hands but did not free her completely. He felt her shiver as his hands moved slowly down her upraised arms to her shoulders, until he finally curled one hand around her nape. Absently, his fingers threaded through the dark, silky hair.
“How can I convince you to stay here? Shall I say it would please me if you do? I do not understand what makes you want to do a man’s job. Is it not enough simply to be a beautiful woman?”
“No. And I’m not beautiful.”
His hands framed her face to prevent her from looking away from him. “Oh, but you are. Very beautiful.” His thumb brushed her full lips, then traced the arch of her brow. He caressed her high cheekbone, and admired the softness of her skin.
Sloan fought against the tremors that shook her as Cruz’s hands worked their magic. Tonio had never made her feel like this. She was strung tight as a bow with anticipation. She could not move, could not break the contact between them. Her hands were fisted above her head. It was the only way she could resist touching him back.
“You are very tempting, Cebellina,” he murmured.
When she opened her mouth to speak, his fingertips stopped her. “Also very stubborn.” He smiled at her, his eyes lambent with suppressed desire. “I cannot let you come with me on the roundup, but if you must work, then perhaps Mama can find something for you to do here at the hacienda. Although you must know, there is no need for you to do anything.”
“All right. Fine. I’ll stay here and work in the house.”
Desperate to escape Cruz’s sensual onslaught before she succumbed to it, Sloan would have agreed to anything. The way Cruz made her feel…
