amount of time determining what he wanted to pack on the supply horses

and what he might bring in Tess Stuart's wagon.

Dealing with Colonel Worthingham hadn't been hard. Eliza had been behind

the trouble, he had known that.

Worthingham might be blind about his daughter, but he was a good

officer.

Not that Eliza wasn't careful. She had been with Worthingham when Jamie

went to see him. She had spoken of the danger, of how Jamie was needed

at the post, and she had been so sweet no one might ever have suspected

her of having an evil thought.

Worthingham had suggested that another man might do the job; Jamie had

politely reminded him that he wasn't officially in the cavalry anymore,

and that had done the trick. He had three months now, three months on

his own.

And Jon was his own man. He always had been. Jamie was glad Jon was

coming along, even if he was being a thorn in Jamie's side over Tess. As

if the minx needed any champions. The girl did know how to fight her own

battles.

He didn't want to battle, he thought. He closed his eyes, then

remembered the way she had looked that morning, half dressed and

completely seductive, the outline of her delineated by the sunlight

against the soft white cotton.

And she 83 had smiled and thrown herself into his arms. He remembered

the taste and feel and texture of her and had known that he had to get

out of the room before he took a running leap and fell upon her in the

disarray of her gown and covers.

He was a fool. He should be steering as clear of her as he could.

Instead, he had given his word to take her to Wiltshire. And he kept his

word.

There was just so much he wanted from her in return. And she was

desperate enough to give it.

That wasn't the way he wanted her, he told himself. But then he

reflected that he wanted her in any way possible, and he wasn't quite

sure ethics entered into the question. And he had to stop thinking about

her. He clenched his teeth and set to work.

It took most of the day to requisition the weapons and ammunition he

wanted to take. It was dark by the time he was ready to return to his

rooms. He wanted a good dinner and a long, hot bath before he started

out on the trail.

His orderly would have arranged for his bath. When he opened the door to

his office and saw that the lantern had been lit and a steaming hip bath

set in the bedroom, he breathed a sigh of relief. He tossed his hat onto

a chair, unbuckled his scabbard and holster and set his weapons on his

desk. He pulled off his boots and left them where they fell.

By the time he reached the doorway to the bedroom, his shirt was

unbuttoned and he was flinging it on the floor. He was anxious for the

bath.

But then he paused in his trousers, his eyes narrowing. He wasn't alone.

Eliza was in the bedroom. And Eliza had been in his bath. She was curled

up on his bed, her dark hair damp and forming tiny ringlets to frame her

face.

She wasn't exactly naked, but her appearance would have been less

decadent if she had been. She was wearing a lace corset he could almost

see through, and which lifted her cleavage to bold new heights. She wore

some kind of silk and lace pantalets, and nothing else.

"I came to say goodbye," she told him huskily. "Eliza, you're a fool,"

he told her irritably.

"What the devil do you think you're doing in my room?"

"Aren't you glad to see me?"

"Frankly, no."

She curled up on the bed, watching him like a cat.

"I'm not letting you go off with that little blond slut."

"Eliza, take a look at yourself and think about what you're saying."

"I'm in love with you!" She stood and walked toward him, swaying, her

lips parted and damp.

"I'm in love with you, Jamie, why do you think I've made love with you?

Do you think a secret rendezvous is all right, but you're afraid of me

being here because of my father?"

She had reached him. She started to slip her ams around his neck, but he

caught her hands.

"Eliza, I'm not afraid of your father. You should be. He'd send you back

east in two seconds if he had the least idea about your trysts."

"He'd make you marry me!"

"No one will ever make me marry anyone."

"You owe me!" She pouted.

"Jamie, I've lain with you" -- "Hm. And half of Companies C, D and E,"

he agreed. She freed a hand, ready to slap him. He caught her hand, and

for a moment they were very close. Then he saw her smile. Smile like a

wanton, with tremendous pleasure. She was looking over his shoulder.

Tess was standing in the doorway. Chaste and beautiful with her golden

ringlets piled atop her head, her pure white blouse buttoned to the

throat, her full skirt navy and subdued, her only jewelry a brooch at

her throat.

She stood there, very still.

"I was told by a young officer that you wanted to see me here,

Lieutenant. I wouldn't have been so careless as to en85 ter myself, but

he pushed open the door, and so here I am, to my great embarrassment.

Good evening, Miss. Worthingham.

Lieutenant, did you send for me?"

"I did not!"

"Then I must offer my apologies. Excuse me." She turned.

"Wait a minute?" Jamie thundered.

Tess ignored him.

Eliza was laughing softly. He caught her and shook her hard.

"You did this!"

"Min. You'll never get beneath her skirts now, Jamie!" Eliza said

happily.

Jamie didn't reply. He shoved her from him and walked away. He didn't

give a damn that he was barefoot or bare chested he was just glad he

still had his trousers on. He didn't know why it was so damned important

that he catch Tess, he only knew that it was.

"Tess!"

She was walking away from him, ignoring him. He caught up with her and

took hold of her shoulders, swinging her around.

"Tess!"

"What?" She wrenched herself from his hold. He circled her, determined

to catch her if she moved.

"I

called you! Why the hell didn't you stop?" Tess looked at him, wishing

she could be half as calm or serene as she was pretending.

She hadn't suspected a thing. The young soldier had appeared at her door

just minutes ago, and he had been very proper, and she had imagined his

mission to be a true one. Lieutenant Slater 'had requested her presence

at his office.

She hadn't even known that his office and his bedroom were connected.

And she had thought that the summons sounded just like Jamie. He would

give her some other trivial order about the next morning. Don't

oversleep, don't be late, don't touch anything of mine that I set in

your wagon.

And so she had come without a thought. Without a single thought.

She had never imagined what it would feel like to see him in another

woman's arms. It had been awful seeing the brunette worse than naked,

draped all over him. Her hair curling over his naked flesh. Her breasts

cast against him, his arms locked upon her, the fever between them. She

inhaled and exhaled. She wondered if she had heard the words right

between them. No one can make me marry anyone. That was what he had said

to her. Wasn't it?

They had been lovers. He had all but admitted it. And maybe they would

be again. Maybe he would take Tess to Wiltshire, and he would come back.

Maybe he shouldn't go to Wiltshire. Because if he did, if they were

together, they would become lovers. And maybe he would be just as cool

to her. Maybe making love meant nothing at all to him, when the desire

within her was something that had never happened before. It was special,

unique, precious.

But then again, she couldn't allow the brunette to win the game. Not

this way. She didn't deserve to win anything this way.

"Damn you, Tess, will you listen to me?"

"I don't see what difference it makes, but go ahead." He stared at her

hard.

"That was a setup."

She didn't reply. He caught her shoulders again, pulling her against

him.

"I'm telling you, it was a setup!"

She still didn't reply, and he looked into his eyes and swore suddenly.

"Why the hell am I explaining this to you?

Think what you want, Miss. Stuart. To hell with you." He left her

standing in the street. She heard his angry stride as he started away.

"Lieutenant!" she called. She didn't turn around until she sensed that

he had stopped. Then she turned to meet his eyes.

"I'm very aware that what I just saw was a setup. I'm sorry for Miss.

Worthingham, that she felt it necessary to put 87 on such a show.

Perhaps you might want to provide her with a bit more tenderness or

care."

He swore and walked away.

Tess smiled and started to her room. But then her smile faded. It had

been a setup, but she had sent him right back to the enemy's arms.

When she went to bed that night she lay awake in torture, wondering what

had happened next. She had advised him to offer tenderness.

Had he done so? Had he slept with the bewitching brunette in his arms,

against his heart?

She tossed and turned in wretched anxiety and she very nearly overslept.

If it wasn't for the timely arrival of Dolly Simmons, she would have