San Antonio Rose (Historical Romance)
or what she answered. "He's a fine horse. Must have cost
someone a hatful of gold."
    "My-er...I once knew a family who raised
blooded horses. Soledad is from their herd."
    "Soledad? Why did you name a horse
`Lonely'?"
    "When he was a colt, he did not want to be
with the other horses. But he would follow-"
She broke off for a moment. "He would follow
the owner's daughter around like a faithful
puppy. It was quite a sight."

    He could tell she was troubled, and he was
trying to take her mind off the battle today. He
had been hard on her, and he was feeling guilty
for that.
    "It's a wonder the daughter could give him
up, since he was so faithful to her."
    "Life is full of difficulties." She turned over
onto her side again and closed her eyes. "I want
to sleep now."
    Ian knew she would have trouble sleeping,
just as he would. He had loaded the rifle earlier,
and he placed it within easy reach. There were
bound to be deserters spread throughout the
hills, and he didn't intend to be surprised by
one of them.
    He heard Emerada sigh and had the
strongest urge to reach out and touch her, to
bring her some semblance of comfort. "If they
knew my bed partner, I would be the envy of
every man in Texas and Mexico tonight."
    She knew him well enough by now to guess
that he was going to say something insulting.
"Believe me, you are just one of many," she
replied, hoping to nettle him. "I am practiced
at lovemaking, as you have probably guessed."
    "I'm not surprised," he murmured, wondering why he was so angry. "You know too much
about men not to have learned it in the bedroom."
    "That does not mean that I will welcome any
unwanted attention from you," she said hur riedly, hoping she hadn't given him the wrong
impression. "I choose my men carefully."

    "Go to sleep, San Antonio Rose; you are safe
with me. I have never been one to fancy another man's leavings, especially not if that man
is Santa Anna."
    No one could make her as mad as Ian. "I
never invited you to my bed, and I never will. I
pick and choose whom I take for a lover."
    He turned his back with a jerky motion, and
she smiled. She had gotten under his skin at
last, even if she had told a lie to do it.

     

In her sleep, Emerada gravitated toward the
warmth of Ian's body. She fit into the curve of
his arms and sighed contentedly when she
snuggled tighter against him.
    Her silken hair fell across his face, and he
could smell some sweet, exotic scent. Carefully
he reached up with the intention of removing
her hair from his cheek, but when he touched
the silken strand, he caressed it, loverlike.
    His body came alive as if someone had lit a
fire inside him. Since the first moment he'd
seen her in Houston's camp, he'd wanted to kiss
those defiant lips. He wanted to crush her in his
arms, awaken her passion, to make her feel
some of the torment she'd put him through.
    Ian lowered the strand of hair from his lips, his body trembling. She stirred something
within him that burned through his whole
being.

    Emerada moved her face, and her lips were
only inches from his. He could feel her breath
on his mouth, and he sat up quickly to keep
from taking her into his arms.
    She merely moaned in her sleep without
waking. Arranging the blanket over her so it
would be a double thickness, he walked down
the hill to where the horse was tethered, needing to put some distance between himself and
Emerada. This dancer who admitted to being
with many men had fired his passion as no
other woman ever had. He stood for a long moment, trying to clear his mind.
    What strange circumstance put him and
Emerada on the same path? he wondered.
What twist of fate made him want her so badly
that it hurt?
    He heard a twig snap and gazed up the hill
where Emerada slept, thinking she might have
awakened. She was sitting up, probably awakened by the same noise he'd heard. Perhaps it
was only an animal.
    Damn it, he'd left the gun behind!
    Taking care to remain

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