Dominic Delaney was not what Elspeth had expected. He was not the uncouth barbarian described by her father nor did he bear significant resemblance to his nephew, Patrick, standing beside him inside the parlor doorway.

She supposed he could be considered quite beautiful by those in thrall to the slightly wicked appeal of the likes of Byron. The last rays of the setting sun streaming through the window highlighted the shining darkness of his neatly barbered hair and revealed the tiniest hint of a wave in its thick crispness. His long sideburns accented the high cheekbones of his slightly elongated face, and the hollowed line of his jaw and deeply bronzed skin gave him a faintly Spanish look. His attire had the same Latin air: a waist-length black suede jacket, a shirt of fine white linen, and a black string tie.

He inclined his head. “Miss MacGregor.”

The two men stepped closer. Patrick and Dominic Delaney were of a similar height, a trifle over six feet, and both were slim. At that point the resemblance ended. Dominic Delaney had none of Patrick’s loose-boned elegance. He was in his early thirties and his physique was more mature, his chest wider and deeper, his shoulder broader, the muscles of his thighs heavier and clearly delineated in the black trousers tucked into polished black boots. Even the way he walked was different from his nephew. He moved with a restless grace as if suppressing a powerful and volatile energy. Still, there was nothing to indicate there was anything particularly intimidating about the man.

Then, as he drew closer, Elspeth abruptly changed her mind. The eyes gazing into her own were a queer blue-gray shade that appeared warm, almost soft at first glance. It was only when she realized the keenness with which his gaze was holding her own that she became aware of how cold they were. A shadow of a stubble darkened his cheeks and the cynical smile curving his well-shaped lips could never in a hundred years be described as soft. The gun belted low on his hip was curiously unobtrusive and then, with a little shock, Elspeth realized why. It was unobtrusive because it was as much a part of him as those icy translucent eyes. Yes, she could see now how her father would think of him as a hard and relentless man.

She was experiencing a strange breathlessness as she held out her hand. “Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Delaney. It’s very kind of you to take the time.” Oh, heavens, her voice sounded like a child’s. She took a deep breath before going on. “It was most important or I wouldn’t have bothered your nephew to bring you. I did offer to go to you.”

For an instant there was a flicker of humor in Dominic’s eyes as he shot a glance at Patrick. “I’m surprised he didn’t see fit to take you up on your offer. It might have saved us all time and trouble if he had.” He could just see this prim little miss being escorted into the parlor at Rina’s place. One look at the negligee-clad Dulcie lolling in half-naked splendor on the cushions of the horsehair couch would be enough to send her running for the next ship to Scotland.

He took her small hand and pressed it politely before releasing it. “I’m afraid you’ve gone to great trouble for nothing, Miss MacGregor. I can’t help you.”

“My father thought you could.” She steadily met his gaze. “If you wished to do so, that is. Won’t you sit down?” She gestured to the striped couch a few feet away and was gratified to see Dominic take a seat. “I have no intention of giving up and going home as my father did, Mr. Delaney. You’re going to have to stop this foolishness and be sensible.”

There was a faint explosion of breath from Patrick, who had remained standing. “I believe I’ll leave you alone to discuss the matter and get a bite to eat in the dining room. I’ll see you later, Dom.”

“No.” Elspeth’s command stopped Patrick at the door. She had felt a sudden sense of panic, realizing only when the younger Delaney was about to leave how much his presence had bolstered her confidence. “I mean… there’s no need for you to go. After all, you are related.”

The color ebbed and flowed under Elspeth’s clear silky skin, and Dominic found himself watching with something close to fascination. A little owl, Patrick had called her. Wide, solemn eyes, a quivering rustle of black plumage. He could see the rapid throb of the pulsebeat in her delicate temple. He felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch that pulsebeat, to run the pads of his fingers over that silky skin. He glanced away hurriedly. Christ, what was the matter with him? For a fraction of an instant he had actually felt the hot thickening in his groin that signaled intense lust. Certainly Patrick’s little wide-eyed owl couldn’t inspire lust. “Yes, stay, Patrick. This won’t take long.”

He was angry, Elspeth realized in bewilderment. She could sense it in the coiled tension radiating from him. Perhaps she should try to pacify him. Oh, dear, she was wobbling again. These Delaney men appeared to have a dreadful effect on her confidence. She supposed it wasn’t surprising she should have relapsed when that confidence was still a puling infant. She crossed to the couch and sat down next to Dominic. She kept her back very straight and she tucked her feet in their high-button boots under the hem of her gown. “It may take longer than you think, Mr. Delaney. I’m not a woman to give up easily.”

Her Scottish brogue was very evident in the words and Dominic found himself listening to the soft, rhythmic cadence rather than the words themselves. What the devil were the color of her eyes behind those spectacles anyway? Brown, he had thought at first, but now he was sure he had caught a glint of green in their depths. “You’re not?”

Patrick raised a brow in surprise at Dominic’s absent tone as he propped himself in a half-leaning position on the windowsill.

Elspeth shook her head. “Not when my purpose is such an important one. I’ve spent nearly every pound I have on this journey.” She drew a deep breath. “I want you to be my guide to Kantalan, Mr. Delaney.”

He stopped trying to pierce the thickness of those annoyingly distorting spectacles and glanced away. “I thought you did.”

Patrick gave a low, disbelieving whistle and sat up straighter. “Kantalan? That’s just a myth.”

Elspeth shook her head, her gaze fixed desperately on Dominic. “Surely you see you have to take me? There’s so much we can learn in a city more ancient than Montezuma’s Tenochtitlán.”

“A legend,” Dominic said flatly.

“It’s there,” Elspeth said with an intensity that caused her voice to tremble. “My father was sure of it, and so am I. He spent over fifteen years studying legends and stories from the Indian tribes of Mexico and this territory. All of the tales were vague and unreliable except for one. A legend originating in an Apache tribe in this area. A legend that was handed down from generation to generation as a sacred trust. The general knowledge became known to everyone as myth, while the true and detailed knowledge was entrusted only to the medicine men of the tribe. They alone learned the exact location of Kantalan and its true history.”

“I’ve heard all this before and I told your father I had no intention of going on a wild goose chase. There are hundreds of legends of lost cities full of riches.” He shook his head. “I don’t believe any of them.”

“The legend says Kantalan’s treasury contains a fabulous fortune in gold and jewels,” Elspeth said crisply. “It would all be yours. My only purpose is to study the ruins and gather information. I have enough money to outfit a small expedition and you could become a very rich man with very little effort on your part.”

“Providing Kantalan actually exists,” Dominic said caustically. “And providing we could find it.”

“It does exist. I couldn’t be more certain.” She leaned forward, her folded hands trembling on her lap. “Ever since I was a small child I’ve heard my father speak of Kantalan. I did a great deal of the research for his last expedition and I’ve pored over everything written about the ancient civilizations in this part of the world. I’m not merely mouthing my father’s words, Mr. Delaney. He was forced to give up his dream of finding the city but I canna do that. Kantalan means too much to me.”

Patrick spoke suddenly. “Why was your father so sure Dominic could help?”

“White Buffalo, an Apache medicine man, refused to give my father any detailed information. He told him only enough to tantalize him. He did say there were two people who had the knowledge to help him. One was Dominic Delaney. He wouldn’t give him the name of the other person.”

“White Buffalo.” Patrick looked startled as he turned to Dominic. “Isn’t he the medicine man of Rising Star’s tribe?”

Dominic nodded.

“And do you know-”

“I don’t know anything,” Dominic interrupted roughly. “The only time I ever talked to White Buffalo was during the week I spent in their village when Joshua married Rising Star, and that was fourteen years ago. He muttered something about the four links coming together and gave me a sort of blessing. Kantalan was never mentioned.”

“He must have told you something else,” Elspeth insisted, her gaze never leaving his face.

Something flickered in Dominic’s eyes and then was gone.

“Why? White Buffalo was an old man and my father kept the fire water flowing pretty freely during that week-long celebration.”

Dominic Delaney knew something he wasn’t telling her, Elspeth thought, and the relief she experienced made her feel dizzy. For a moment he had almost convinced her that her only lead was a false one. “It wasn’t the liquor speaking. He did tell you something. Why won’t you help me?”

“Go home, Miss MacGregor. There are no seven cities of gold, there is no Eldorado, and there sure as hell is no Kantalan.”