have
visitors!"
The
next moment the courtyard was swarming with servants and filled with the
murmuring of voices as Brett was welcomed and his wound exclaimed over. With
much clucking he was led away by Bonita and Josefa, Ollie following jealously
behind. Clemente and Elias swiftly and competently saw that the baggage was
unloaded and taken to the rooms that would be Senor Dangermond's during his
stay. Another call from Alejandro brought more men running from the stables to
take charge of the horses.
The
courtyard deserted now except for Sabrina and her father, Alejandro sent her a
thoughtful look as she stood there, her hair tumbling down to her waist, the
boyish garb somehow intensifying her femininity. Just the faintest note of
censure in his voice, Alejandro said slowly, "I think the time has come
for you to put aside this unsuitable apparel. You are a young woman now, not a
wild savage." A slight smile softening his words, he continued lightly,
"Your madre would not be happy if she could see you now, chica .
She would think I had done badly in raising you." He quirked an eyebrow at
her, as if encouraging an answer, but there was a stubborn tilt to her chin
that he knew too well, and a second later he turned away and entered the house
in search of his guest.
Feeling
strangely bereft and oddly resentful at the same time, Sabrina glared at the
empty courtyard. Inside she was a mixture of emotions: ashamed and angry at her
father's words, not precisely happy with Brett Dangermond's arrival, and yet
not unhappy, more confused and a little insulted at the way he had treated her.
One thing was certain though—Brett Dangermond had come back into her life with
the suddenness and violence of a lightning bolt, and she was very much afraid
that her world was never going to be the same again.
CHAPTER
SIX
It
was several hours later before Brett and Sabrina saw one another again, and the
intervening time had been used to good effect by both of them. Brett's wound
had been tended to by Bonita, and while she muttered that it would have to be
sewn and that it was going to leave a scar, there was no real worry about it.
Bathed,
shaved, and clothed in a white cotton shirt and black breeches and boots, his
wounded arm resting in a sling of scarlet silk, Brett bore little resemblance
to the brigand Sabrina had first thought him. Only those deep-set, cynical
jade-green eyes betrayed that while he wore the trappings of a gentleman,
underneath his aristocratic bearing might very well lurk a brigand.
It
was true that the sudden meeting with Sabrina had thrown him momentarily off
guard and that for one dangerous moment, as he had tasted the sweetness of her
lips, his defenses had suffered a serious breach. But that insanity had lasted
only for as long as it had taken him to realize the folly of what he was
feeling, and he had cursed himself roundly for being such a fool. By the time
they had arrived at the hacienda, he had convinced himself that the incident
meant nothing.
Sabrina's
emotions were harder to define and were certainly far more confusing. She had
never known desire until he had kissed her, never before been overly curious
about what went on between a man and a woman. But Brett's warm lips on hers had
awakened a host of sensations that she wasn't positive she wanted to feel,
suspecting that they could plunge her into treacherous waters.
After
her father had left her in the front courtyard, she had wandered upstairs to
her room. As she had walked past the open doorway of Brett's room she had had
no inclination to linger in that vicinity. Sabrina knew she should have
inquired after his wound, but she was too angry and distressed by the entire
series of events to do so. She was also vaguely conscious of an uneasiness at
knowing he would be situated just down the hall from her own room.
Not
that she expected Brett to creep down the hall and ravish her, she thought with
a
visitors!"
The
next moment the courtyard was swarming with servants and filled with the
murmuring of voices as Brett was welcomed and his wound exclaimed over. With
much clucking he was led away by Bonita and Josefa, Ollie following jealously
behind. Clemente and Elias swiftly and competently saw that the baggage was
unloaded and taken to the rooms that would be Senor Dangermond's during his
stay. Another call from Alejandro brought more men running from the stables to
take charge of the horses.
The
courtyard deserted now except for Sabrina and her father, Alejandro sent her a
thoughtful look as she stood there, her hair tumbling down to her waist, the
boyish garb somehow intensifying her femininity. Just the faintest note of
censure in his voice, Alejandro said slowly, "I think the time has come
for you to put aside this unsuitable apparel. You are a young woman now, not a
wild savage." A slight smile softening his words, he continued lightly,
"Your madre would not be happy if she could see you now, chica .
She would think I had done badly in raising you." He quirked an eyebrow at
her, as if encouraging an answer, but there was a stubborn tilt to her chin
that he knew too well, and a second later he turned away and entered the house
in search of his guest.
Feeling
strangely bereft and oddly resentful at the same time, Sabrina glared at the
empty courtyard. Inside she was a mixture of emotions: ashamed and angry at her
father's words, not precisely happy with Brett Dangermond's arrival, and yet
not unhappy, more confused and a little insulted at the way he had treated her.
One thing was certain though—Brett Dangermond had come back into her life with
the suddenness and violence of a lightning bolt, and she was very much afraid
that her world was never going to be the same again.
CHAPTER
SIX
It
was several hours later before Brett and Sabrina saw one another again, and the
intervening time had been used to good effect by both of them. Brett's wound
had been tended to by Bonita, and while she muttered that it would have to be
sewn and that it was going to leave a scar, there was no real worry about it.
Bathed,
shaved, and clothed in a white cotton shirt and black breeches and boots, his
wounded arm resting in a sling of scarlet silk, Brett bore little resemblance
to the brigand Sabrina had first thought him. Only those deep-set, cynical
jade-green eyes betrayed that while he wore the trappings of a gentleman,
underneath his aristocratic bearing might very well lurk a brigand.
It
was true that the sudden meeting with Sabrina had thrown him momentarily off
guard and that for one dangerous moment, as he had tasted the sweetness of her
lips, his defenses had suffered a serious breach. But that insanity had lasted
only for as long as it had taken him to realize the folly of what he was
feeling, and he had cursed himself roundly for being such a fool. By the time
they had arrived at the hacienda, he had convinced himself that the incident
meant nothing.
Sabrina's
emotions were harder to define and were certainly far more confusing. She had
never known desire until he had kissed her, never before been overly curious
about what went on between a man and a woman. But Brett's warm lips on hers had
awakened a host of sensations that she wasn't positive she wanted to feel,
suspecting that they could plunge her into treacherous waters.
After
her father had left her in the front courtyard, she had wandered upstairs to
her room. As she had walked past the open doorway of Brett's room she had had
no inclination to linger in that vicinity. Sabrina knew she should have
inquired after his wound, but she was too angry and distressed by the entire
series of events to do so. She was also vaguely conscious of an uneasiness at
knowing he would be situated just down the hall from her own room.
Not
that she expected Brett to creep down the hall and ravish her, she thought with
a
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