Love a Dark Rider Page 9

  "Those are the bare facts," she said tautly. "But it wasn't the way you're making it sound! I loved Sam! I didn't want his blasted money! He was good to me, he cared for me and protected me, and I would never have

  done anything to hurt him or take advantage of him! I loved him!"

  An expression that made Sara suddenly breathless and frightened at the same time crossed his dark face. "You loved him!" he said furiously. "You loved him! Well, if you loved him so damned much, if you're such a grieving little widow, tell me why you turn to fire in my arms when I touch you! Tell me that!"

  Sara swallowed, deeply agitated by the course of the conversation. Even if she wanted to, there was no way she could explain to him, to herself or to anyone else why he affected her as he did, and she said the first thing that came to mind. "It was the brandy!" Seeing the sardonic smile that curved his lips, she stammered, "A-a-and the lateness of the hour! You s-s-startled me!"

  Something gleamed in the depths of his golden-brown eyes and he sprang up from his chair and came around the desk in one lithe move. Grasping her upper arms and pulling her next to him, he drawled, "Let's just see the truth of that, shall we, chical You've had no brandy, it is broad daylight and you can't say that I've popped up unexpectedly in front of you."

  Sara could smell of the not-unpleasant scent of tobacco on his breath mingling with the coffee he had drunk earlier, and in that instant before his mouth closed warmly on hers, it seemed the most intoxicating aroma in the world. The touch of his lips on hers, the firm heat of his mouth as he kissed her leisurely, were nothing like the other kisses they had shared, but the effect was the same: she could feel her breathing suddenly becoming suspended and the pounding of her poor, silly heart beating in the same wild, sweet tempo of her blood. His hands tightened and he dragged her closer, deepening the kiss as he did so, his tongue demanding and finding entrance into her mouth. She moaned softly, half entreaty, half delight as he stroked his tongue coaxingly against hers, tempting

  her further into the heady web of desire he was weaving around them. Sara could feel herself slipping, could feel the world beginning to spin violently out of control when he groaned deep in his throat and his hands caught her head, holding her where he wanted her while he drank greedily of her sweetness.

  Her carnal senses in an uproar, she was dizzily aware that if she didn't stop him, if she didn't do something immediately, in a precious few seconds it would be too late . . . and he would have proof that everything he had said of her was true. . . . That thought exploded through her brain and with a sob she wrenched her mouth from his, breaking the hold of his hands on her head. Her lips crimson and swollen from his kiss, she looked despairingly at him. His breathing was faintly labored and his eyes were full of the powerful desire that had so swiftly seized them both.

  For a long moment they stood there staring at each other, and then his mouth slanted into a grim smile. "Well, I think we've just proved the lie of your words, haven't we, sweetheart?"

  Sara slapped him. She couldn't help it. His words enraged her so much that before she even thought about it, before she even knew she was going to do it, her hand had already shot out and smartly connected with his cheek.

  In guilty satisfaction she stared at the imprint of her palm burning redly on his dark face, but the expression in his eyes made her take several prudent steps away from him. "You deserved that!" she muttered. "You've done nothing but insult me and try to take advantage of me since the moment you arrived."

  Thoughtfully, he touched his skin where her hand had landed, and to her astonishment, he nodded slowly. "I suppose that's one way my actions could be construed," he said dryly. To her further bafflement, he

  turned and reseated himself in his previous position. As if the moment of passion had never been, he folded his arms over his broad chest and said quietly, "Tell me about the Shelldrakes. Why are they living here?"

  Unsettled by the sudden change in Yancy, Sara walked back to the desk and fiddled for a moment with a few papers that were lying on top, trying to gather her flustered thoughts. "It was the war," she said finally. "Although it wasn't just the war. Like most Texans, Tom supported it fully and stripped himself to provide funds for it—that and several bad investments left him almost destimte by the time Lee surrendered at Appomattox." Sara lifted her gaze and looked at Yancy. "He was wounded, did you know? He saved Sam's life by risking his own. His left arm is virtually useless and he has found it hard to deal with his infirmity." Her eyes darkened for a moment, memories of Sam's broken body crowding into her mind. Dear God! If only Sam had come home with nothing more than a useless arm .. .

  The door to the office was suddenly flung open and Ann Shelldrake surged inside. "Does he know? Have you told him?" she demanded.

  Yancy looked slowly from one woman to the other, his golden gaze moving from the guilty expression on Sara's face to Ann's malicious one. His eyes narrowed and in a cold, deadly voice he asked, "What? What hasn't she told me?"

  Ann smiled with satisfaction. "Why, only the fact that Sam left her Casa Paloma!"

  C&7

  There was an awful silence in Sam's office as the seconds slowly spun out. Yancy's hard gaze locked onto Sara's tense features, he asked icily, "Would you care to tell me what in hell she's talking about?"

  "Oh, you needn't badger Sara about it," Ann said airily, coming further into the room and seating herself comfortably in the chair next to Yancy's. "She doesn't like to talk about it, but apart from some small bequests to Bartholomew and Tansy and a few others, Sara gets everything .. . except, of course, your half of Magnolia Grove." Ann sent a sly glance in Sara's direction. "For a little nobody, she did very well for herself, wouldn't you agree?"

  Never taking his eyes off Sara's increasingly strained features, Yancy agreed silkily, "Oh, yes, I'd say that she did damn well for herself! But tell me, does the will specifically state that she is to have Casa Paloma?"

  "Certainly!" Ann said sweetly. "Of course, there are some rather peculiar conditions set forth." She smiled like the cat that got the cream. "Shall I tell you what they are?"

  Fighting free of the terrible paralysis that had beset her the instant Ann had entered the room, Sara exclaimed hotly, ''That's enough^ Ann! Yancy can learn the full terms of Sam's will from Mr. Henderson, anytime he

  wants to." Forcing herself to meet his cold gaze, she added tightly, "Since you seem so interested in the contents, I suggest that you ride into San Felipe this afternoon and see Mr. Henderson. He will explain everything to you."

  Yancy smiled wolfishly at her. "But I would much rather have Ann explain it to me. After all, she is right here and most eager to tell me ^v^rything!"

  Wishing desperately that she'd had more time to prepare herself for this moment, cursing Ann's untimely arrival and just generally wishing she were anywhere but right here, Sara took a deep breath and said with commendable calm, 'There is no reason to bother Ann. I can tell you the contents of your father's will myself."

  "But, darling," Ann cooed, "it is no bother at all!"

  Sara's soft mouth hardened. "I'm sure it isn't, but since this is technically none of your business, I would appreciate it if you would allow Yancy and me to finish our conversation in private."

  Ann pouted, but she didn't pursue the matter. She rose graceftiUy fi-om her chair, her black silk skirts rustling about her feet. "Well, since you feel that way about it, darling, I have no other choice." Slanting a provocative look at Yancy, she murmured, "You and I shall have a nice little chat later on—I have so much to tell you!"

  Sara nearly stamped her foot with vexation at the older woman's provoking tactics, and not for the first time, she considered firmly telling Ann and her husband that they would have to make other living arrangements. Ann was too much like Margaret for anyone's good. Watching Ann complacently make her way from the room, Sara knew she had made a very bad mistake in consenting, even tacitly, to the Shelldrakes' accompanying her when she began her new life at Casa Paloma, and
that if she was wise, she would immediately take steps to undo the damage she had so foolishly done to herself. But that was

  a problem she could deal with later. At the moment, she had a far more volatile situation to face, and bracing her slender shoulders, she looked squarely at Yancy.

  Yancy, too, had been watching Ann, and it was only when the door had shut quietly behind her that he glanced back at Sara. His expression inscrutable, he said, "Tell me again how the Shelldrakes ended up here."

  Glad to postpone the inevitable, Sara shrugged. "You know your father—Tom was a dear friend of his, and when he lost his plantation, it seemed only natural for Sam to offer them a place to stay, especially since Tom had been gravely wounded protecting your father during the war."

  "A place to stay, si, but I don't think my father, despite his sometimes ridiculous generosity, intended for them to be his dependents forever," Yancy commented dryly.

  Sara's gaze dropped and she grimaced. "Probably not! I'm sure he would have eventually come up with some way for Tom to reclaim a certain amount of independence, but.. ."

  "But Sam died," Yancy said coolly, "and you inherited everything."

  "Not everything!" Sara replied, stung, glaring across at him. "He left you half of Magnolia Grove!"

  "I don't give a damn about Magnolia Grove! I don't give a damn about anything of Sam's except Casa Paloma! And you know it!" He gave a bitter laugh. "Hell, everyone knows it—isn't that why I killed Margaret, to keep her from getting it?" His face hard and set, his amber-gold eyes glittering fiercely, he said harshly, "And if I didn't want her to have it, I sure as the devil don't want you squatting right in the middle of my rancho either! Now, tell me: what will it take for you to let it go?" He leaned forward, his expression intent, and offered bluntly, "I'll sign away any interest in Magnolia Grove if you'll grant me Casa Paloma." When Sara

  only stared mutely back at him, he tried a different tack and said more softly, "Casa Paloma is Alvarez land; it always has been. Sara, my great-grandfather settled that land, and it means nothing to you. It is wild and untamed and no place for someone like you—you have no use for it. I'm asking you—no, I'm pleading with you—to be reasonable. I'm willing to give you my share of Magnolia Grove for the place. It's probably a fair trade, considering the condition of Casa Paloma." He waited for several minutes and when Sara still remained silent, his mouth thinned angrily and he growled, ''For Dios Since that's not enough, I will pay you a good price for it—in gold. Surely that will satisfy your greedy little soul!"

  Sara was already shaking her head before he had finished speaking. Quaking inside, she muttered, "It's not mine to give you."

  His eyes narrowed. "Oh, and what do you mean by that? Either he left it to you or he didn't. Which is it?"

  Sara took a deep, fortifying breath and said in a rush, "Sam left it to my children, and—and if I don't have any children, then Casa Paloma is to pass on to Bartholomew and Tansy."

  Braced for an explosion, she stared defiantly across the desk at him. His expression one of ludicrous astonishment, he slowly leaned back in his chair. Like a man having been dealt a stunning blow, he bent his head and dazedly rubbed his forehead. "Your children!" he muttered under his breath. "Casa Paloma is to go to your children!"

  Encouraged by his reaction—at least he wasn't throttling her—Sara admitted gingerly, "I was as surprised as you are when Mr. Henderson read me the will." She bit her lip, waiting for him to say something. He didn't.

  There was a curious stillness about his long body, and with every passing second, Sara was uneasily aware that

  he was turning the implications of Sam's will over and over in his mind. To her shame, the image of herself big with his child slid slyly into her thoughts and to banish it, she hurried into speech. "I'm sorry that this has been such a shock for you—it was for me, too, when I first learned of it." She nervously cleared her throat and added, "I'll just leave you alone for now. I'm sure you have a lot to think about."

  He raised his head at that and the expression in his eyes froze her where she stood. ''Vdlgame DiosV he muttered with quiet fury. "Behind those angelic features of yours, you're even more clever than Margaret was! She was willing to settle for what she could get from my father, but you, you want it all, don't you?"

  Angered at his coupling of her name with Margaret's, Sara glared at him, but she was also puzzled by part of his statement. "What do you mean by 'more clever than Margaret'?" she demanded.

  "Why, only that you must have very cleverly manipulated Sam for him to have put a provision like that in his will! And he must have been utterly besotted with you even to conceive of you bearing my children! If you were my wife, even if I were dying, I would not be able to tolerate the thought of you giving birth to another man's children." Yancy laughed, but it was an ugly sound and there was no mirth in it. "What is it, I wonder, about your enchanting little face that makes normal men act like fools? You almost fooled me, too, did you know that?"

  Sara shook her head, hardly comprehending what he was saying, too stunned by his horrible interpretation of the facts to defend herself. She was like Margaret? She had manipulated Sam?

  Like a wide-eyed doe mesmerized by the approach of the stalking tiger, she stared as he rose swiftly from his chair and came around the desk to stand in front of her.

  Insultingly, his gaze traveled assessingly up and down her slim body.

  "I've probably seen," he began silkily, "better candidates to be the mother of my children, but Sam, thanks to your self-serving intervention, seems to have limited my choice." The fury underlining his words terrified Sara, but she seemed unable to move. Even when he touched her, when he reached out for her and jerked her roughly up against him, she remained immobile.

  His breath was warm and smoky against her cheek as his lips moved with surprising gentleness over her skin. "Do you want to know the real irony of the situation, amigaV he asked in an oddly tortured tone, the fury still evident, but muted by the stronger emotions that flowed through him. "The real irony of this entire situation, querida, is that you haunted me as no other woman ever has, not even Margaret. I couldn't get the memory of your big green eyes or the sweetness of your mouth out of my mind. When I left here, I took your beguiling little image with me—I even almost came back for you, but I told myself that you were too young, too innocent for me." His hands slid to her throat. "Can you imagine what I felt when I learned that you had married Sam? When I discovered that I had totally misjudged you? The chagrin? The fury at my foolishness? Do you even begin to understand my bitter disillusionment when I learned so painfully that the sweet guise you project so effortlessly is a lie and that you had tricked me into seeing you as something you weren't?" His fingers tightened imperceptibly and Sara knew a moment of fear. "I could have killed you!" he snarled softly. "You appeared to be so guileless, so sweet and gentle . . . you made me dream of things I had given up hoping for and yet underneath . . . underneath, you were every bit as black and corrupt and calculating as Margaret!"

  His eyes were locked on her mouth when he finished speaking and then he smothered a curse under his breath, and as if he could not help himself, his mouth lowered to hers and his teeth nipped half tenderly, half painfully at her bottom lip. He lifted his head and starred derisively down into her upturned face. "It shames me to admit it," he muttered, "but even believing you as iniquitous and cunning as Margaret— I still wanted you! I hated you then, cursed your soul and damned you to hell!" He smiled without humor. "And now I find that through your own cold-blooded manipulations, you have bound us together in an unholy union—my children, bom of your body, for the lands of my ancestors." He kissed her fully then, his hands cupping her face, his mouth taking hers with a swift brutality.

  The touch of his mouth on hers shattered the paralysis which had gripped her, and with a soft moan Sara fought to escape from the fierceness of his kiss. Despite her struggles, he held her fast for several seconds, his lips and tongue taking what he wanted. Only w
hen her hands clamped tightly around his wrists and she tugged with all her might did he lift his head and stare down into her appalled, angry green eyes.

  "You're blaming me for something I didn't do and you're attributing ugly, wicked motives to me that I never had!" Sara exclaimed vehemently, her lips stinging from his savage kiss.

  "Am I?" he asked harshly. "Somehow I don't think so! The facts are plain: you married Sam for what you could get and, not satisfied with that, you concocted a scheme which would force me into an alliance with you . . . and with me comes all the wealth and vastness of Rancho del Sol, as well as the silver mines in Mexico." He gave a rough bark of laughter. "I suppose that these days I am a much better catch than Sam. Even Margaret might

  been have been tempted, considering the condition of Magnolia Grove! As for you . . ." He sent her a look full of contemptuous hostility. "You found as clever a way as I have ever seen to make certain that you could get your avaricious little claws on everything— why else would Sam have left Casa Paloma to you as he did?"

  Sara stared at him, visibly shaken and deeply dismayed that he could believe her capable of such villainy—that he could take the facts and twist them into something so ugly and unrecognizable. Unhappily, she began, "You don't understand . . ."

  "What don't I understand? That you saw an opportunity and took it?" he demanded grimly.

  "It wasn't that way at all!" she replied sharply, her temper rising.

  "Then perhaps you can explain it to me—particularly why Sam left Casa Paloma tied up in such a ridiculous fashion!"

  "I don't know!" Sara cried with exasperation, jerking free of him. "I don't know what was in his mind those last days! He was dying! I certainty didn't pester him about the contents of his w/7/! I had no idea how he had left things until Mr. Henderson read the will aloud."