Texas Woman by Joan Johnston

silky hair, but it was questionable whether either of them was really soothed by the calming motion.
    “All right, Cebellina. We will wait . . . a little longer.”
    When Sloan sought, at last, to ease from Cruz’s embrace, he let her go. She slowly raised her head to meet his gaze. His vivid blue eyes asked questions and demanded answers.
    “I have to be honest with you. I don’t want to be your wife, Cruz.” Her cheeks flushed, then paled. “Your brother would always stand between us. Even if he didn’t, we both want our own way too much for us ever to be able to get along. I’ll never agree to leave Three Oaks . . . and you’re bound to Dolorosa. So you see, there really isn’t any hope for this marriage.”
    “But you
have
left Three Oaks,” Cruz reminded her.
    “That was a mistake. One I intend to correct. As soon as I can come up with the right plan.”
    “Then you will accept my hospitality for a while.” When Sloan opened her mouth to object, Cruz added, “I insist.”
    Sloan bristled, but nodded. “All right. But this touching . . . it can’t happen again.”
    “I cannot promise that.”
    Sloan huffed out a breath of air in frustration. “Don’t you see how difficult it will be for both of us if you insist on forcing us together?” Sloan’s voice became strained. “Because I won’t put my heart . . . or my body . . . in another man’s keeping . . . ever.”
    Cruz thrust a hand through his hair and left it looking wild. “I would never hurt you, Cebellina.”
    “Tonio said as much.”
    His jaw tightened in anger. “I am not my brother.”
    “You’re a man. And a man will say or do whatever is necessary to get what he wants from a woman.”
    “All men are not so treacherous.”
    Sloan snorted derisively. “Oh no? I’ll introduce you to a few of the plantation rakes who came to see me after Tonio’s death. They had heard I was pregnant and that Tonio was dead. They only wanted to offer me comfort in my bereavement. Or so they said. It took me a while to realize what they really wanted was—”
    Cruz put his fingertips on her lips to silence her. He could easily guess what the young men had wanted. He would have protected her from them if he had known. But being Sloan, of course she had not asked him for his help. “Is there nothing I can do to convince you to trust me?”
    “I’ll trust your word that you’ll keep your distance from me so long as I’m here.”
    “I will not promise to stay away from you,” he said at last. Then he smiled, a warm, heart-stopping smile that revealed even white teeth and made crinkles appear at the corners of his eyes. “But I give you fair warning, Cebellina, that I will do everything in my power to be certain you welcome my touch.”
    Sloan gasped, then laughed aloud. “You’re incorrigible!”
    “It appears so.” The devilish smile stayed on his face as he continued, “Now, for the reason I came to see you so early. It is Sunday, a day of rest. I have decided we should have a picnic.”
    In her delight at the whole idea, Sloan ignored the fact he had already “decided” what they should do. “A picnic sounds wonderful! Is there anything I can do to help get things ready?”
    The tension left Cruz’s shoulders when he saw she wasn’t going to argue with him about going. “I took the liberty of asking Ana to pack a basket for us. I will leave you now to dress. Once we have eaten breakfast, we can go.”
    Cruz leaned down to kiss her, then remembered his promise. He paused with his lips a hairsbreadth from hers, waiting. When Sloan did not draw away, he tantalizingly brushed her lips with his, then grasped her lower lip with his teeth and nibbled on it, sliding his tongue along its edges before he finally released her.
    Sloan was stunned.
    “You will find I always keep my promises, Cebellina.”
    Before she could respond, he was gone from the room.
    Sloan found herself humming as she dressed in clean trousers and a shirt and tugged on