“I was just thinking that your father isn’t the only one with dreams of vast kingdoms,” she said. “I think you have a few aspirations in that direction yourself.”

The eagerness faded from Dominic’s expression. “Perhaps you’re right. I guess I like the idea of running a kingdom as much as he does. My father and I are cut from the same cloth. The only difference is that he’s a builder and I’m a destroyer.”

“What do you mean?” She had never seen him like this. They had reached a certain level of intimacy in these last few weeks, yet she realized now she didn’t really know him at all. She had never seen the eagerness or excitement that had illuminated him when he had spoken of his plans for Killara, nor had she seen the pain and bitterness that was on his face now.

He shrugged. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” He was walking swiftly down the corridor, passing a number of polished wood doors. “I think you’ll be comfortable in Brianne’s room. She was the first girl born in the family and we all kind of spoil her. If Killara is a kingdom, then Brianne is our princess.”

“She’s very lucky. It must be wonderful to be a member of such a large and close-knit family.” Elspeth tried to keep the wistfulness from her voice. “I hope she won’t mind me ousting her from her bedchamber.”

“Not Brianne. She doesn’t mind anything but being bored. To her, any change has to be for the better. It wouldn’t surprise me if she talks Da into letting her spend the night with some of her friends in the Mexican village.”

There was warm affection in his tone. It appeared Dominic was as fond of the Delaney “princess” as he was of her twin brother, Patrick. “Village? I didn’t see a village on the way here.”

Dominic paused in front of a door at the end of the hall and shifted his hold on her to open it. “It’s over the hill, beyond the family cemetery. Da wanted it close enough so that a shot could bring the vaqueros running when they were needed but far enough away to give us privacy.” He was striding toward a canopy bed whose rosewood headboard towered a startling nine feet and was crowned in the center with the carved head of a deer. The canopy and coverlet gracing the large bed were a rich bottle-green velvet. Plump, cozy pink roses patterned the thick beige carpet on the floor, and graceful green vines curved in feathery trails on cream-colored wallpaper. A black lacquer vanity and full-length oval mirror were luxuries a true princess would have envied, Elspeth mused. It was difficult not to compare this magnificent chamber with her own starkly ascetic room in her home in Edinburgh.

Dominic placed her on the bed and stepped back. “Silver should be here in a moment. Is there anything I can get you before I leave?” His words were impeccably polite.

She experienced a throb of disappointment, bewildering in its intensity. For a few moments she had thought she had come closer to understanding him than ever before, and now he had once more shut the door on revelation. The room that had seemed so welcoming was suddenly chill and foreign and the man before her was a stranger too. How else could she expect to feel in a place where young men could be taken out and hung like fowl in a butcher shop? She swallowed to ease the sudden nausea that assaulted her along with the memory of the hanging. She sat up hurriedly and smiled with an effort. “No, thank you.” She smoothed a strand of pale brown hair neatly behind her ear with nervous fingers. “I’ll be quite all right. Your mother said your father wished to see you, and I wouldn’t want you to keep him waiting.”

He hesitated, his eyes narrowed on her face. Then he sat down beside her on the bed. “A few more minutes won’t hurt.”

“No, really I-”

“I’m staying,” he said flatly. “My mother was right, you’re pale as death. I thought once you were away from Hell’s Bluff it would be better. It’s not, is it?”

She shook her head. “I keep remembering,” she whispered. “I keep seeing… You were there. You know what I see.”

He nodded. “And I can’t promise you it will go away, but it will lessen. In the meantime, you’ll just have to try to think of something else.” He smiled with surprising gentleness. “Would you like me to tell you about how my father managed to give my mother her palace?”

“You said your vaqueros had built it. ‘Vaquero’ is Spanish for cowboy, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “It was a little more involved than that actually. Sixteen years ago Da couldn’t have afforded to build anything grander than a teepee. We’d been burned out three times by the Apaches and every time we gathered a decent herd together, the Indians raided us again, putting us right back where we started. Da finally managed to get one herd to market and decided he had to do something.” He paused, a reminiscent smile touching his lips. “We crossed the Rio Grande and rode deep into Mexico to a village called San Felipe. Da had heard the whole country was suffering from a terrible drought at the time and the herds down there were skin and bones. But Lord, they were cheap.” His grin deepened. “Very, very cheap. None of us spoke more than a few words of Spanish but Da managed to make himself understood. He bought any animal on four feet down to the last heifer and made a deal with every able-bodied man in the village to come back to Killara and work for us. He promised them wages, a place to build their own homes on the property, schooling for their children. They didn’t have anything to lose and everything to gain. It was the kind of arrangement they understood on the ranchos down there. They accepted Da as their patrón and helped us drive the cattle home to Killara. Then we turned around and went back and moved the entire village of San Felipe to Killara.” He made a face. “Hell, it was harder than shifting those longhorns. They brought everything with them, wheelbarrows carrying everything from furniture to pots and pans, and wagons filled with babies, grandmothers, chickens, and geese.” He shook his head. “And mules. My God, how I hated those mules. There aren’t any more devilish creatures on the face of the earth than those sons of Satan. I was only fourteen, but I felt as if I were ninety and climbing fast by the time we reached Killara.”

A tiny smile tugged at her lips. She could almost see the young boy, Dominic, trying to deal with that motley collection of humanity and animals. “You carry your years very well. You don’t look a day over thirty,” she teased.

“Because I make sure I don’t come within a mile of those long-eared fiends these days.” He looked down at her hand on the velvet coverlet. Such a small hand, fine-boned, graceful, and fragile. Without thinking, he started to reach out and touch her. He stopped, letting his hand fall to the coverlet a few inches from her own. “Well, Da got his herd and my mother got her fine house. Da told the vaqueros if they’d build him a great house, he’d see that they would never have to worry about a place to live or work again. My brother Donal even found a bride down there, which was a damn good thing. We might not have gotten this place built for another ten years without Manuela to interpret for us.” He grinned. “Come to think of it, the reason this place looks like one of those fancy hidalgo’s haciendas is probably Manuela’s doing. She was the daughter of a Spanish nobleman visiting in San Felipe when Donal met her, and she never did like the idea of living with a bunch of wild gringos. It’s entirely possible she told the vaqueros we wanted a house like the ones she was used to in Spain. After Donal died she sure hightailed it back to Spain in a hurry to live with her more ‘respectable’ relations.” His smile faded. “But she took her son, Lion, with her. She had no right to do that. He was a Delaney and Donal’s son. He belonged to Killara.”

She was gazing at him in wonder. “You love them all, don’t you? Every single Delaney who walks the earth.”

“They’re my family,” he said simply. “My blood. We don’t always agree, but the bond is there. We’re a part of each other and a part of Killara.”

Elspeth felt again a piercing envy born out of her loneliness. She looked down at Dominic’s big, tanned hand on the bed beside her. Why had he stopped before he touched her? She would have liked to have had the comfort of his hand on hers. But would it have been comfort? There was an odd tingling in the center of her palms as she thought about Dominic’s fingers moving on her flesh. His fingers were long and hard and yet there had been no hardness as they had moved down to curl in… Her cheeks suddenly flushed and she tried to remember what Dominic had been saying. “You’re very fortunate.” Her words came haltingly and she swallowed to ease the tightness of her throat. “Sometimes families aren’t quite so amiable.”

The velvet coverlet was soft beneath his fingers, and he began to rub his palm lazily back and forth, enjoying its texture. His index finger began to thrust absently, rhythmically, into its soft pile. There weren’t many textures as sensually pleasing to the touch as velvet. At the moment he couldn’t remember anything that equaled it except Elspeth’s silky white thighs, her tight springy curls clinging seductively to his fingers. The muscles of his stomach began to knot painfully and the air left his lungs. His hand slowly closed on the fabric of the coverlet, his nails rending its delicacy with unconscious force. He cleared his throat but his voice was still a hoarse rasp. “So I understand. You’re right, I’ve been lucky.”

“You can leave us now, Dominic.” Silver stood in the doorway. “You heard your mother, the old man wants to see you.”

For a moment Dominic was tempted to order Silver out of the room. He was hurting. He wanted to lock the door and lie down on this big soft bed beside Elspeth and take off-Christ, he couldn’t stand much more of this. He forced his hand to unclench and release the velvet captured in his clasp and then stood up. “See that she has breakfast and then a good rest.”