remember from the days before the war.

"Jori--Miss. Stuart, please. Just return her in one piece, Jon."

"He's trying to pretend that I take scalps. I don't, you know," Jon

informed her gravely.

Tess smiled again--brilliantly. Everything about her lit up. Smiles for

him, and taunts for me! And still, Miss. Stuart, we are irrevocably

bound, aren't we? "Evenin', James," the colonel addressed him.

"Evenin', sir."

"I see that Miss. Stuart has been whisked away." He nodded toward the

dancers.

"Well, she's lovely. A very welcome addition to our little soiree, eh?"

"Yes, sir."

"Ah! Well, you shall't be lonely long. There's Eliza coming to whisk you

away, I dare say."

Eliza was on her way over. She had stopped to chat at the punch table,

but now, with her fan fluttering against the heat of the night, she was

hurrying around the dancers to greet him.

He hadn't seen her since he'd come back with Tess.

But she knew. She knew that he'd come back with a woman, and she knew

that he was with Tess tonight. He could see it in her velvet dark eyes.

She was smiling, but it seemed that the curve of her lip hid a snarl.

She was still something to behold. Her neck was long and swan like her

hair as dark as ebony, and though she was slender and graceful, a man

could g~t lost for hours in her voluptuous breasts. Her skin was ivory

and flawless, her lips red, her face lovely. Jamie knew she'd had her

mind set on tormenting him for some time. He usually enjoyed her company

because she was such a brazen piece of baggage. He'd seen her break half

a dozen hearts before she'd deter67 mined to stomp on his, but he'd

always managed to hold his distance from her. To take care that he never

spoke a word that sounded like commitment.

He hadn't been able to refuse her constant seduction. He hadn't been her

first lover, and he was sure that he wouldn't be her last.

She was especially seductive this evening, her ink-dark hair caught to

one side of her head and plunging in a black cascade over one shoulder,

her bodice so low-cut as to reveal the endless depths of the valley

between her breasts, her kelly-green gown contrasting beautifully with

the darkness of her hair and the perfect ivory of her complexion.

"Jamie, darling'! Well, you have saved the first dance for me. I've

missed you so!"

In full view of the company she slipped her arms around him, rose on

tiptoe and kissed his lips.

He waited for something to stir inside him. He swore inwardly. It was

Tess.

He was obsessed, and any other touch would leave him cold until he had

quenched that newfound fire. "Eliza, nice to see you," he murmured,

catching her arms and unwinding them from around him. She pouted

prettily, but he barely noticed. He was looking past her, toward the

dance floor where Tess smiled and laughed, swirled and dipped and

whirled in his best friend's arms.

They were striking together, the tall half-breed and the exquisite blond

who looked so delicate but had a will of pure steel. "Dance, yes!" he

muttered, and he swept Eliza into his arms and onto the floor.

"I was afraid that you hadn't missed me!" she told him, her eyes growing

dark.

"What? Of course I missed you," he said.

"You didn't come to see me last night."

"No, I had reports to fill out."

"I waited for you. Very late. Into the night."

"I'm sorry."

I'll wait again."

It was promising. Maybe he could close his eyes and imagine that he held

Tess's sun-honey blond hess

No. It wouldn't be fair.

He smiled.

"Eliza, I brought Miss. Stuart to the dance."

"Miss. Stuart?

Oh, yes! I heard about her! The zany woman who thinks white men are

Comanche." She shuddered.

"Honestly, Jamie, I understand how you might feel responsible, but just

walk her home and then come on over."

"Can't, Eliza. Not tonight."

She looked furious for a moment, as if she was about to argue. But she

fell silent, pressing closer to him. The musky scent she was wearing

rose around him. He felt the pressure of her breasts, the flash of a

thigh. She wanted to excite him.

"I'm glad to find you so understanding, Eliza," he said pleasantly.

"Of course. I'm always understanding," she told him gravely, sweetly.

Like hell, he thought. But he smiled. Jon was no longer dancing with

Tess.

She'd already danced with half the men in the regiment, Jamie thought

irritably. She was in the arms of a young sergeant now, a handsome

towhead stripling! A kid who probably hadn't even shaved yet. And he was

gushing all over her.

Just about to trip over his own darned tongue. Jon reclaimed her.

Jamie gritted his teeth, determined to watch his date for the evening no

more. He had no way of knowing that Tess Stuart was watching him every

bit as covertly. Those strange stirrings rose inside her as she watched

the ebony-haired enchantress laughing, pressing against him, heaving her

bovine breasts beneath his nose. She was very anxious to be retrieved by

Jon, and managed to dance her way over to the tall Sioux.

He promptly cut in and swept her around, smiling like the devil's own

disciple.

"Mr. Red Feather?"

"yes?"

"Who is the massive mount of mammary glands?" He laughexl and bent low

to whisper against her ear.

"That, Miss. Stuart, is Eliza."

He lifted his head again and smiled benignly toward Jamie.

"Keep an eye on that one," he warned Tess.

"I certainly intend to," she told him sweetly, then she tossed her hair

and laughed, and the sound of her voice was like a melody on the air.

And every man in the place seemed to turn to her. Including Jamie

Slater.

Chapter Four.

Tess didn't see how or when Jamie extricated himself from Miss. Eliza,

but within a few minutes, he was tapping on Jon's shoulder, claiming her

for a dance. She smiled serenely as they moved to the music. Hemust have

attended many of these little balls. He was as accomplished at dancing

as he was with riding and shooting. She felt suddenly as if she walked

on air herself, as if the room and the people all around them faded, as

if they shared more than a simple touch. Maybe they did. His eyes were

boring into hers.

"Enjoying your conquests, Miss. Stuart?"

She widened her eyes.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean every snot-nosed young trooper here is ready to lie down and die

for you." "Really?" she asked with a sweet note of astonishment. "Well,

how very genteel of the lads, how kind! But tell me, Lieutenant, how am

I doing with the others?" His jaw twisted slightly, but there was still

amusement to his smile.

"The graybeards, Miss. Stuart, are quite willing to dig their own

graves, if need be, for your cause."

"Oh, dear! Ah, well, let's hope that it need not be. But I'm curious,

sir, how am I doing with the men between nineteen and ninety?"

"Would it please you to know that a number of them were probably quite

ready to slit one another's throats for the mere bounty of your smile?"

She didn't know if he was teasing. Not anymore. The smoky quality was in

his eyes again. She lowered her lashes, shivering slightly, wondering if

he was really a man to play with so freely. Then she raised her eyes

with a bold and sweeping challenge.

"Thank goodness, sir, that you would not participate in such a skirmish!

I mean, as one could see how heavily involved you are ..."

"What?" he demanded, scowling.

"The bountiful brunette, Lieutenant. Miss. Eliza."

"Oh, Eliza." He said the name dism~ssively. Too dismissively. He knew

Eliza well, maybe better than he wanted to at the moment.

"Yes, Eliza," she said pleasantly.

"Are you engaged, Lieutenant?"

"Good heavens, no!"

"Ah, was the horror of that statement over the possibility of

engagement, or over Eliza?"

"Miss. Stuart, you are very presumptuous."

"Sir, no one is forcing you to dance with me."

His arms tightened around her. He was smiling, but there was a sizzle to

the smile, and it sent little shock waves rippling all along her system.

Maybe she was playing dangerously. It was delightful. Maybe she risked

igniting his temper to extremes she had yet to know. She realized that

she was willing to do so, that the storm taking place within her own

heart and body was demanding that she do so. "Miss. Stuart, I am your

escort to this dance, remember?" he said bluntly.

"Oh ... yes, well, I suppose that I had forgotten. When I saw the way

your lips became pasted together with Eliza's ..."

"Jealous, Miss. Stuart?"

"Well, how could I be? I have just entered into your life. I couldn't

possibly mean to dissuade you from, er, liaisons you have been

nurturing."

She heard the clenching of his teeth. The scowl that tightened his

handsome features seemed to reach inside her and take her breath away.

She felt his hand upon her waist, warm and powerful, and the fingers of

his other hand so tightly entwined with hers that the pressure nearly

caused pain. She inhaled a clean scent from him that also seemed to