by Martha Hix
Resentful at his finding principles through some female, yet feeling awful for the hapless girl, Alejandra sniffed. “Who was Becky? I suppose you must’ve loved her a lot.”
“You do have a jealous streak.” Pure satisfaction eased across Reece’s features. “But you shouldn’t in this case. She was Garth’s fiancée, and I loved her like a sister.”
“I shouldn’t have jumped to a conclusion.” Abashed, Alejandra studied the ground. “Does he know she’s passed away?”
“I have no idea. All I know for sure is, she and Garth were the primary reason I volunteered to fight with Sam Houston. But the Alamo and Goliad run a close second. I, by God, wanted Texas for Texans. But mostly I want my brother back.”
His was a dangerous mission here in Mexico, and Alejandra worried for Reece. Oh, how she loved this man! Love? Did she love him? Yes! She wanted to spend the rest of her days–and nights!–proving it. She had been correct in suspecting that tonight would be the turning point in her life.
But how did he feel about her?
“You have prevailed, my Reece, in–”
Reece shortened the distance between them. “I’ve prevailed in nothing. I came to this country determined to spy on Antonio . . . and find my brother in the doing. My government and Antonio have kept me fettered too long in the latter.”
Quivering with apprehension, she said, “You aren’t . . . tell me you’re not planning to do something rash.”
But he wasn’t listening. “I’ve prevailed in nothing.”
She had an answer for him, but would he want to hear it? Surely he would. What was it he said to her, that first night at Casa Montgomery? She could never forget the gist of it. “I want to be your first thought in the morning. I want to be your last thought at night. I want to cross your thoughts at the oddest moments, as you do mine. Let me be the one whose caresses are more welcome than wine or music or riches or . . . anything else.” For Alejandra, all of that had come to pass.
So much had happened since that night, but . . . why should she hesitate in admitting her feelings? “You’ve prevailed in capturing my love.”
Reece’s brow furrowed, as if he hadn’t heard right. “What did you say?”
“I said I love you, Reece Montgomery.”
“Jandra, my darling, are you sure about that?”
“As sure as heat in August.” Pleased that he had shortened her name, thrilled that they were reconciled, she sidled toward him, and brought his hand to her bosom. “As sure as this heat in my breast.”
He covered her hand with his. A lazy smile cut across his mustachioed face. “I think we’ve talked enough about the past, my Jandra. Shall we get on to the future?”
“Capital idea.”
“Jandra . . . I’m not talking about talking.”
“Are you referring to this?” Her fingers moved to the burgeoning evidence of his maleness.
With a low growl, Reece bent his head to nip her neck. “I’m not talking about the price of eggs in China.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Night wind and the bonfire’s warmth surrounded them. His fingers combed into her luxuriant tresses. She cuddled against his chest, her arms winding around his back. God, how he had missed her. He had promised himself never to touch her again. But Reece realized that where Alejandra was concerned–especially since she had admitted her love!–keeping such a vow was as impossible as man flying to the moon, as unnecessary as the Pope taking religious instructions.
It was then that a cry filled the night air.
Alejandra tensed. “Someone’s in trouble.”
“No, my darling. It’s only a panther. Their cries sound like a woman’s.”
“You should know about those things, El Cazador.”
For the first time Reece didn’t mind being called that. There had been respect in Alejandra’s voice.
“I love you,” she whispered for the second time tonight, those words flowing honey sweet through his heart. He confessed his love again, and she sighed in contentment. But he wasn’t content. Despite his earlier suggestion that they forget the past, he had to clear it up.
“Christmas night,” he began, his throat tight, “I’m sorry for touching you in anger. I want you to know, Jandra, I’ll never do that to you again.”
“We both have guilt over that night. Yes, you were brutal, but I said some hurtful things. Which I apologize for.” She touched her lips to his, gently and far too briefly. “Why don’t you show me just how tender you can be?”
No verbal reply needed, he stepped back. Taking his jacket from the tree branch and spreading it across a carpet of leaves, Reece prepared their bed. His pulse raced. He had been so long without her, he figured it would be difficult to be tender. But he would be.
His hand beckoned hers. “Will you allow me to undress you, my darling?”
“Only if you’ll allow the same liberties.”
“I reckon I might.”
They both chuckled. There was no doubt that such pleasures were not only mutually welcomed but also jointly expected.
His fingers brushed her hair over her shoulders. “You have the most beautiful black tresses in the world, and have I ever told you I love your eyes?” he whispered huskily.
“Have I ever told you I love your eyes?” Reaching on tiptoes, she kissed the eyelid covering a blue, blue iris.
Her blouse tie, loosened earlier by Alejandra, came undone. He pulled the material over her head. Orange firelight cast her ivory breasts in golden relief. Her beautiful, pert breasts. Two of the many things about his darling that drove him wild with passion. Good Lord, could he take his time? Could he go easy? He had to. Their lovemaking must mean as much to Alejandra as it did to him.
“My shirt,” he murmured and combed his fingers through her hair. “The buttons . . .”
“Mmm, yes.” Slow as treacle, she fiddled with the fasteners. Pulling the shirttail from his trousers, she pressed a kiss on his pelted chest. “I love the taste and feel of this,” she admitted, the tip of her tongue darting out to make tiny circles on his breastbone.
There was a storm brewing in his lower regions, a mighty fire storm of passion. His hands spread across the sides of her breasts, his fingers teasing the nipples. They grew swollen and taut . . . while his manhood did the same. He tried not to growl, succeeded in groaning. He unfastened her skirt, then guided it as well as her underskirts to the ground. They pooled at her feet. He bent to slide her boots off. Carefully, he laid them close to the fire to keep them warm. Stretching to stand again, he got a full look at his woman.
Wearing nothing beyond a bandage on her forearm, she stood proudly before him.
“I don’t think I could ever get tired of looking at you,” he whispered.
She laughed. “I could get fat and drooping. You wouldn’t be so pleased.”
“Don’t count on it, my darling. I love you, not just the beauty that meets my eye.”
Her smile went radiant.
He tugged on his boots, tossing them over his shoulder. She stepped forward to divest him of his breeches. Her hands smoothed over his naked hips.
“I am hot for you, my beautiful, naked Reece,” she murmured. “And you are hot for me.”
The pad of a forefinger skimmed over the tip of his erection. It got even bigger, and he had never thought that possible. With Alejandra, though, anything was possible.
He guided her to the makeshift bed. Breeze rustled through the canopy of trees. The stream’s gurgling waters gave a modicum of tranquility to the environment, an atmosphere redolent with the leashed passions and heated desires of the lovers.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered. “These weeks away from our loving . . . away from you have been torture.”
“I’ve felt the same way.”
“Then let us wait no longer.”
“Patience, my darling.” His fingernail teased her chin. “Patience.”
“That’s never been one of my virtues.”
She spread
her legs for him, and he yearned to assuage his desire. Right then. Sucking in a lungful of air for strength of character, he covered her body with his . . . but he did not enter that special place.
He caressed her heated flesh. His lips trailed over her face, stopping at an earlobe. He took it between his teeth, yet his tiny nips couldn’t be called painful. She shivered, even more so when he blew a stream of breath into her ear.
“Feels so good,” she moaned.
“You feel so good,” he returned. “Let’s make it even better.”
The energy from each of them became as one. His lips took hers. How could he have ever thought he was through with her? He loved her just the way she was, which was one helluva woman. Respectful to her memories, steadfast in her convictions, and dedicated to her principles.
She opened for him; his tongue tasted her sweet mouth. He felt her squirming beneath him. And her movements wreaked havoc with his vow to go slowly.
He pulled back from her lips to inhale a calming breath.
“Kiss me,” she requested, her voice thick. She pointed to her breast. “Kiss me here. Where it feels so wonderful.”
The first time they had made love, she hadn’t even wanted him to look at her breasts, much less touch them. It made him feel wonderful, knowing her inhibitions were gone forever.
And he was more than willing to comply with her plea. He cherished a breast, drawing the tip into his mouth. Lord, this was the world’s sweetest taste! His fingers trailed to the apex of her thighs, and it was warm and wet down there . . . for him. By now she was thrashing about. And when she reached her peak, he could take no more.
He told her so.
Supporting his weight on his elbows, and his hands moving to cup her head, he thrust into her womanly place. She enfolded him in her velvety wetness, her legs wrapping around his hips. The flowers of her perfume cloaked him as he took her lips in a searing kiss of reconciliation. This is where he wanted to be. Forever and ever and ever.
Their loving was the most wonderful of his life. His happiness grew endless when she expressed that same sentiment. And he could no longer be gentle. Thrusting deep, time and again, his passions increased, and so did hers. She was moaning and shouting with pleasure; he added to ecstasy’s intonations. Her climax shook him, so strong was it. But hers was nothing compared to his own. Could it be that he had been too long without her? No. It was the depth of his love and adoration.
“I love you,” he whispered, still joined with his beloved.
“I love you, too, mi querido amor.” Her eyes fluttered closed, a happy smile on her face. And then she yawned and cuddled closer in the crook of his arm. “Just hold me while I sleep.”
He did. He slept, too, and it was the first good rest in longer than he wanted to recall. When he awoke, she was still in his arms. He levered up on his elbow to gaze upon her dear face.
He yearned to spend the rest of his life making love to Alejandra. That meant marriage. He wanted it. Had never wanted anything more. He imagined a spread of land in Texas, Alejandra at his side. He envisioned children as well. Dark-haired, bright-eyed boys and girls, all of them as headstrong and exasperating as their mother.
But would Alejandra be willing to leave the wealth and circumstance of Campos de Palmas for frontier life?
He’d never know unless he asked. But he must drag his feet in the doing. Until he could find Garth, Reece had business, risky business, here in Mexico. Furthermore, he had responsibilities as an agent for the republic to the north. He wasn’t free to take on a wife.
And Alejandra had too much on her mind, Reece was certain, with what her determination to cause trouble for El Presidente.
Which needed to stop.
Trouble would be all she could accomplish.
But what could he say to her? In the past, every time he had tried to reason with Alejandra, his arguments had miscarried. He snuggled her closer and smoothed her hair. “Sleeping?” he asked.
“Not really.” She lowered her lashes and swallowed. “Reece . . . did you really bring that dog with you as a reminder of mistakes made with me?”
He chuckled. “No. He’s tagging along because I think the mite’s damned cute.”
“What a mentiroso you’ve been.” Mock exasperation was in her voice. “But I’m glad you were lying about him.”
He was pleased at pleasing her, yet he needed to return to the subject for which he had awakened her. “Sweetheart . . . honey . . . querida, there’s something we need to discuss.”
She wiggled against him, wrapping her leg across his thigh. “We’ve done enough of that.”
Yes, and they would be doing something else, if she didn’t stop . . . Which was fine with Reece, but loving was for later. He eased back to pull his arm away. Shoving to his feet, he went for his breeches. A leg pushed in them, he smiled at his darling. That wasn’t a return smile. She looked at him curiously. Surprised, he wasn’t.
Inserting his other leg into the breeches, he said, “I want you to return to Campos de Palmas.” Naturally she started to protest, but he rushed on. “Just go. And don’t leave there. Wait for me. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
“But, Reece–”
“Another thing, don’t get involved in any sort of political dealings, no matter what de Guzman or Don Valentin suggest.”
“You should know better than to ask that of me.”
He picked up her clothes and boots. Crouching on his heels, he handed over the articles and put a loving hand on her shoulder. “I’m not going to pretty this up, Jandra. You’ve put yourself in a nest of danger, trying to outsmart Antonio. You could lose your life over it.”
“If that’s what it takes.”
That angered Reece. “Thank you. Appreciate it. Nice of you to risk throwing away the life of the woman I love.”
“There’ll be no risk.” She sat up and pulled her blouse down over her head. Lacing the tie, she eyed him. “Let me explain. You see, earlier tonight, when you pointed out the futility of my efforts, I had a change of heart. I’m not going to spy against Santa Anna. I’m going to change his mind.”
“That’s absurd. It’ll never work. You ought to know Antonio has his own mind, and no one invades it.”
“It won’t hurt to try.”
“You are the damn hard-headedest woman.”
He had two choices: Support her in her ploys, or toss Alejandra across Rayo’s back and abscond with her. The second idea held his attention, but he had to consider the entire picture. Until her mind was settled about Antonio, she’d never be happy. He couldn’t any more turn her from her quest than he could be turned from his. That was just the way they were. If they were to have a future, he must learn to live with her peccadillos. But she’d have to learn a bit of giving, too.
“Jandra, I want you to promise me something. Promise me a couple of things. First of all, be careful.”
“I will.”
“Second . . . we work together.”
“As in a team?”
Teamwork. That had been a sore subject between them. Well, that was in the past. “Right. We work as a team. I help you and you help me.”
“Seems a good plan.”
Arms akimbo and legs spread, Reece towered over her. “Now here’s the last. Any good organization has a leader. In this one, I’m it. I make the decisions. And if I say ‘pull back,’ you do it. Do you understand?”
There it was again, Alejandra’s famous look of defiance. But he would not back down. After several moments, she stared at the fire. When she turned her regard to Reece once more, her defiance had vanished. “I understand,” she said.
“Good.” He heaved a sigh of relief. “Go about your sweet-talking, and let me know everything that gets said, but . . .” He paused. “Steer clear of Mirabel Velasquez.”
Eyes rounding, Alejandra got to her feet. “I will not allow any woman to paw you, Reece Montgomery.”
“Maribel won’t be doing that. You see, she has gone over to the Texan si
de.”
“Why did she do that?”
“It’s a long story, Jandra. Long and ugly. One I just recently learned . . . and it’s sickening. Santa Anna molested her when she was a girl.” Shock and pity roiled in Alejandra’s face, and Reece took her hand. “She hates the man. And she has for years been trying to find a way to get vengeance on him. You two have a lot in common.”
“Poor, poor Maribel. Oh, Reece, we must do whatever we can to help her, in whatever way she needs. And I don’t mean just with her revenge. We must be her friend.”
Reece lifted her chin with his crooked finger. “We’ll be her friend. But I want you to remember, you two are dealing with a dangerous man.”
The next morning, on an admirer-free stretch of road leading to Mexico City, Reece tied Rayo to the rear of the litter that carried Santa Anna to his seat of power.
El Presidente greeted him warmly, then launched into a recant of the previous night.
“Such a spectacle your women made of themselves last night. I was jealous of you, I must say, Cazador. How I long for the señoritas to fight over me . . .” One wagon wheel hit a rut and jostled the occupants. Antonio wiggled, pushing his elbows into the soft covers, and sat straighter on the elevated bed. “I was enjoying myself immensely, so much so that I yearned to take little Carmelita to my tent and ravish her forthwith, but of course I had to stop the exhibition. A leader must lead, you understand.”
“Of course,” Reece came back, masking his facetiousness along with his disgust.
“Doña Alejandra, now there is a beautiful and exciting woman.” Many times he had said these things to the colonel. He never tired of saying them. “If she were not yours, Montgomery, I would have her for my own.”
“She is definitely mine.” Reece had a word with himself to keep from plowing his fist into that mocking face. “Why you’re interested in her is beyond me, though. Especially since you have Carmelita”–gorge swallowed, he undamped his teeth–“to keep you company.”