Joan Johnston - Texas Woman

Something curled up tight inside her. She had made a terrible mistake, made assumptions she should not have made. No other man would have her now.

She felt her throat constricting, felt her chest tightening until she was afraid she might suffocate. She rose awkwardly and searched desperately for her clothing, dressing herself as quickly as possible.

Nearby, Luke clothed himself slowly, methodically.

When she was dressed, Tomasita turned to face the man who had taken her virginity. “I… I did not know… I should not have presumed…” She swallowed over the lump in her throat.

Luke felt bad. He felt awful, in fact. He had only intended to steal a few kisses. Or maybe just caress her soft skin a little. Somehow things had gotten out of hand.

He had always been able to stop himself in the past. But he had wanted Tomasita like he had never wanted another woman. Needed her like water in the desert. And he had known he might never have another chance to possess her.

So he hadn’t stopped.

Luke reached out to touch Tomasita, but she jerked away. “Will you be all right?” he asked.

“I will be fine. Do not concern yourself.”

Tomasita turned and walked away from him back toward the hacienda. She heard him swear under his breath, heard him kick his mount, heard the muffled hoofbeats as the horse galloped away.

Suddenly, the night sounds were deafening. Crickets and frogs. The water. The wind. The scream that rose in her throat and could not find escape.

CRUZ TURNED TO FILL HIS SENSES WITH THE woman lying across from him in the huge Spanish bed they shared as man and wife. The linens smelled of the lavender soap she used, and the musky odor of sex.

She looked like a woman who had been well loved. Her sable hair billowed around her face on the pillow, her lush sable lashes fanned her cheeks, which were scattered with a light dusting of freckles. Her mouth was parted and her lips were full and swollen from the passionate kisses they had shared during the night past.

Her fiery responses had enflamed him. Over the past two months they had spent together, the loving had only gotten more intense, more fulfilling. He knew he would never get his fill of her.

But though he had possessed Sloan’s body, she had kept her heart and soul apart. He was hardly in a position to cast blame, however, since he also had been selfish with parts of himself.

His clandestine work for the British had forced him to exclude Sloan on more occasions than he wanted to consider. It had taken a lot of time to gather the information Sir Giles wanted, and he could hardly tell his wife the real reason he had not wanted her to come along with him on his journeys.

He had also been unable to share with her his fury that Alejandro Sanchez had escaped justice. Cruz had chafed at the fact that until the Republic no longer had any need for his services-that is, until the annexation of Texas had been approved by the American Congress-he could not take any action against his brother’s murderer.

He had bitten his tongue and bided his time through November and December. Three encouraging political events occurred during this period that led him to believe annexation might finally be at hand.

In Mexico, a revolution drove Santa Anna from the presidency and the new president, General José Joaquin Herrera, was a man disposed to peace with Texas.

In Texas, Dr. Anson Jones, a man pledged to support Sam Houston’s policies favoring annexation, was elected to replace Houston as the next president of the Republic.

In America, a virtual unknown, James Knox Polk, of Tennessee, a friend of Sam Houston’s and a man in favor of westward expansion, was elected to replace President John Tyler.

Lately, Cruz had read accounts in American newspapers that said the annexation of Texas was “inevitable.” In fact, it was considered a foregone conclusion that when the American Congress reconvened in February, 1845, it would immediately ask Texas to become the twenty-sixth state.

Cruz had not been surprised to receive word that Sir Giles wanted to see him. He suspected the British had come up with some final, desperate plan to thwart annexation. Because once Texas was annexed, the British citizens who had invested millions of pounds in Mexican bonds secured only by land in Texas would have to admit, at last, that their investments were not worth the paper they were printed on.

Cruz was not looking forward to the trip because it meant leaving Sloan-again.

She had seemed content at times over the past two months, but was agitated and impatient at others. He was no more certain now that she would still be with him at the end of April-when the six months she had agreed to give him were up-than he had been the night the priest had married them.

As he gazed at her in the pale gray light of dawn, her lids slowly lifted. For an instant he thought he saw pleasure in her deep brown eyes, but whatever her feelings for him, they were quickly masked.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice rough from disuse.

He reached to brush a stray curl from her cheek, noting the softness of her skin, the silkiness of the hair beneath his fingertips. “Good morning.” He leaned over and pressed his lips against hers.

He felt the tremor go through her as they touched, and was hard-pressed to control his desire for her. He had to speak now or he would never be able to leave her.

“I must leave for San Antonio today.”

“Meeting another ranchero?” she asked, her brows rising skeptically.

“Sí.”

She kept her lids lowered so he couldn’t see her eyes, and her hands toyed with the cotton sheet that barely covered her full breasts. He saw the shadow of a dusky nipple through the cloth and his loins responded by tightening with pleasure.

“I want to go with you,” she said.

“No.”

“Why not? It isn’t as though I would intrude on your business. I have acquaintances of my own in San Antonio I could visit, and I could check to see whether there’s any news about Betsy’s uncle while I’m there.”

Cruz could hardly explain that she would be in his way when he made contact with Sir Giles, but neither could he come up with a satisfactory reason to keep her at Dolorosa. “I will not have time to keep an eye on you-”

“Why would you need to do that?” she said with asperity. “I’ll keep an eye on myself.”

Cruz ignored her statement and rose from the bed to dress.

Sloan forced her gaze away from the lithe muscles that bunched in her husband’s shoulders as he stretched, the strong arch of his back, the taut, hard buttocks which, she noticed with chagrin, were decorated with fingernail-shaped crescents she had put there last night in a moment of mindless passion. She could find no fault with his body, but she was more than a little perturbed by his attitude toward including her in his business.

She had been an obedient-almost docile-wife, allowing Cruz to come and go as he pleased, leaving her behind at Dolorosa, failing to include her more times than not. But she was beginning to feel the constraints of being a dutiful wife. Taking care of Betsy and playing with Cisco weren’t enough to keep her occupied. The nearly complete absence of responsibility, after so many years of being responsible for so much, left her feeling restless.

Not only that, but the constant strain of her relationship with Doña Lucia, and the lingering uncertainty of whether her marriage with Cruz would last, were starting to wear on her. She needed to get away.

So she said, “If you don’t take me with you, I’ll simply go on my own as soon as you’re gone.”

Cruz frowned. “You agreed-”

“I have to get away from here for a while, Cruz.” Her voice was calm, but inside she was wired as tautly as a bowstring. “Either I go with you or I go alone, but I’m going.”

Sloan had sat up abruptly to state her ultimatum, unmindful of the sheet that had covered her nakedness. Once her tirade was over, she realized the cloth had fallen to her waist and Cruz was staring at her. Her nipples puckered under his intent gaze, and she grabbed at the sheet to cover the signs of her vulnerability to him.

Cruz knew he couldn’t keep her here if she made up her mind to go. He realized he would have more success keeping her ignorant of his reasons for traveling to San Antonio if she came along with him. When necessary, he could make his excuses and leave her safely in their room at the hotel while he met with the Englishman.