The torment of lust had lessened, Dominic realized with a jolt of shock. It had not disappeared entirely, he was still conscious of a nagging ache within him, but his annoyance with Sweetness had at least made him think of something else beside Elspeth. Now that he thought about it, for the past five days the mule had kept his mind so occupied, he hadn’t had the opportunity to think of anything else.

An ironic smile flitted across his lips at the thought of how disappointed Azuquita would be if he realized his downright ugliness was acting in Dominic’s best interest.

“Why are you smiling?” Elspeth asked, puzzled.

“I was just thinking that bringing Azuquita wasn’t such a bad idea.”

She looked relieved. “You’re not upset about it any longer? Sweetness is very strong. I surely hope his behavior will improve once he gets to know you.”

The mule’s lips pulled back from his yellow-white teeth.

Dominic smiled back at him, mirroring the same toothy menace. “We’ll see if your hope pans out.” He got to his feet and grabbed hold of the shredded rope. Sweetness immediately tried to bury his teeth in Dominic’s hand. “I think I’ll be the one to take care of him from now on. As you say, we have to get to know each other.”

Elspeth blinked. “If you’re sure that’s what you wish.”

Dominic tugged at the rope. Azuquita didn’t move. “On your feet, my little sugar.” His tone was almost affectionate. “It’s back to the other animals with you. You’ve done enough damage for one night.”

It took him thirty minutes to get Azuquita off his haunches and tethered with the other animals. By that time Dominic was annoyed and exhausted enough almost to forget the silken warmth of Elspeth waiting for him only a few yards across the fire, and he fell asleep in minutes.

It was two days later that the heat that had followed them from Killara into Mexico appeared to be on the verge of breaking. Blue-black clouds rolled across the western horizon and in the afternoon the wind carried with it the bite of cool moisture.

Elspeth took a deep breath, letting the pungent dampness flow through her. “Doesn’t it feel like a blessing? It rains frequently in Edinburgh, but I don’t think I’ve fully appreciated it. I feel as if my bones are made of sand. Do you think the storm will come this way?”

“Yes.” Dominic swung off his horse, with practiced agility dodged Azuquita’s attempt to step on his boot, and grabbed the mule’s lead rope. “And we don’t have much time to build a shelter.”

“We’re stopping now? We still have a few hours before sunset.”

“The storm’s close enough. I like my comfort and I don’t have any intention of sleeping in the rain.” He was leading the stallion and mule into a pine grove at the side of the trail.

“What are you going to do?”

“Build a lean-to. I saw some ocotillo shrubs about a quarter of a mile back.”

Ocotillo. She hadn’t the faintest idea which bush he was talking about, but the word had a lovely musical sound. “How can I help?”

“Unsaddle the animals and tether them to a tree that has a lot of protective foliage.” He reached into his saddlebags and drew out a pair of heavy leather gloves and a sheath containing a hunting knife. “I’ll be right back.”

He was back in twenty minutes carrying a huge armload of narrow greenish-brown sticks from three to four feet in length.

“Ocotillo?” she asked.

He nodded. “You lay them close together and they form a pretty good roof for a lean-to. Pine branches are better for the supports though.”

“Can we have a fire?”

He didn’t look up. “A small one.”

By the time the shelter was built, the grove was beginning to be inundated with the eerie golden light that sometimes precedes the darkness of a storm. The two gnarled support branches were nearly five feet tall; once the blankets were spread and a fire built, the tiny enclosure was reasonably cozy.

The wind was swaying the tops of the tall pines and the golden light was disappearing. Now there was only a still purple gloom reflected from the storm clouds overhead. Elspeth’s head lifted, and she experienced a tiny thrill of excitement as if she, too, were mirroring the tempest about to be unleashed. The cool breeze lifted her hair from her forehead and she could smell the heady scent of rain, grass, and rich earth.

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” she asked softly.

“It won’t be wonderful for long.” Dominic crawled under the lean-to. “In about a minute the sky is going to split wide open and you’re going to be drowned if you stay out there.”

She didn’t seem to hear him. Her gaze was on the darkening sky and she gave a little shiver of anticipation. “It makes me feel strange. I don’t know… powerful. Do you know what I mean?”

His expression softened as he looked at her glowing face, radiant in the dimness of the grove. “Yes, I know what you mean. Now, come in under the lean-to before you get wet.”

She sighed and then reluctantly crawled under the shelter to sit beside him, settling back against the saddlebags Dominic had propped against the tree. “It would almost be worth it.”

He shook his head. “You’d get chilled and we sure as the devil don’t want you ill again.”

“I won’t become ill. I’ve never felt more healthy in my life.” It was difficult to remember a time when she hadn’t felt this strong and well, and yet it had been only a month ago that she had been bedridden at the hotel in Hell’s Bluff.

The rain began to fall, at first sporadically, then in huge drops, and as Dominic had predicted, the heavens opened. Rain poured down with stunning force. She could hear it pounding the ocotillo roof, but surprisingly few drops managed to pierce the branches.

The fire Dominic had built was small, but they managed to prepare a meal of beans and hardtack. After they had finished, there seemed nothing to do but sit and watch the rain.

20

Surrounded by the falling rain, gazing into the ever-changing brilliance of the leaping flames, was rather like being enclosed in a silver box holding a glowing ruby, Elspeth thought dreamily. It was not as exciting as the wildness that had preceded the storm but was still very satisfying.