never anything else for him in my heart but a daughter's love for her father."
Yancy snorted. "And I suppose it was because he loved you as a daughter that he married you?"
Stung, Sara said sharply, "Yes, it was! He wanted to make certain that I would be protected if something happened to him during the war. He said that he had meant to adopt me, but events moved too swiftly for him to do that, and there wasn't much time before he left to join Lee to do anything but marry me!" Sara glanced down at her hands, unable to bear Yancy's contemptuous look. Her voice low, she muttered, "From the beginning it was to be only a marriage of convenience and neither of us ever had any intention of making it anything else. The marriage was arranged solely so that Sam could leave Magnolia Grove knowing that, should he die, he had done everything he could to ensure my future." Her eyes darkened emotionally. "He begged me to marry him! The idea shocked me when he first broached it and I refused, until I realized that only by agreeing could I give him any peace of mind. We had planned to have the marriage annulled after the war, but by then Sam was dying ..." A lump rose in Sara's throat and she added huskily, "The marriage was simply a way of protecting me and it shows just the sort of fine, generous man your father was—marrying me was a totally unselfish gesture on his part!"
Yancy flashed her a derisive glance. "A touching tale, but I'm afraid that I don't believe you."
Angered, Sara lifted her chin and snapped, "Very well, you don't believe me! What do you think happened?"
Yancy's mouth tightened and he leaned nearer to her. "I think," he began in a soft, dangerous drawl, "that it was you who suggested the marriage! I think that you were the one who was worried about your future and you made certain, the only way you could, that if something
happened to him, if your gullible protector was gone, you'd be taken care of!"
"That's simply not true!*' Sara replied in horrified accents. "You hardly know me—how can you believe such an ugly thing?"
Yancy laughed bitterly. "You forget that I have met your kind before. I danm near married someone exactly like you, and while she didn't project the same helpless innocence you do, Margaret knew very well what she was about!"
"I am not like Margaret!" Sara said fiercely. "I loved your father! I wanted Sam to be happy and I wanted him to have the peace of mind he needed to be able to leave me alone at Magnolia Grove."
"Oh, and, of course, it never occurred to you that by marrying him you were watching out for yourself!"
Stricken, Sara could only stare guiltily at him. She had thought of what being Sam's widow would mean, and she would have been the basest sort of liar imaginable if she hadn't realized that by marrying Sam she was, indeed, watching out for her own future. But her own future had not been the main motivation, she thought painfully. She would never have considered marrying Sam if he hadn't pressured her into doing so! She had done nothing wrong! "Yes, I knew that I was securing a future for myself by marrying your father," she admitted. "I'd have been a silly twit not to have realized it. Especially since Sam so very kindly pointed it out to me!"
A look of open dislike on his handsome face, Yancy regarded her blackly. "I'll say this for you. You're a hell of a lot more clever than Margaret ever thought of being!" He laughed mirthlessly. "She'd never have admitted her wrongs, but you—^you do it with such beguiling candor that it could easily disarm most people!"
"But not you."
His amber-gold eyes swept down her naked body. "Oh, no. Not me, lady. Like I said, Margaret taught me just how deceiving and conniving a woman can be— even a sweet-faced little jade like you!"
Sara's bottom lip quivered slightly and she blinked back the tears his harsh words brought to her eyes. "I see," she said with hard-won calmness, "that since you've already made up your mind about me, there is nothing else for us to say on the subject. But tell me, if I am such a despicable creature, if I am as vile as Margaret, how can you even bear for me to possibly be the mother of your child?" Her clear green eyes met his unflinchingly. "That was the purpose of what we just did together, wasn't it?" Some of her anguish bled through the iron control she was keeping on her emotions and she asked huskily, "Wasn't it all part of your plan? The entire reason you abducted me? To make certain that it was your child I conceived? So that Casa Paloma would again belong to someone of Alvarez blood?" Her voice shook slightly. "You cold-bloodedly set out to make love to me—you must have planned all this very well—and you dare to accuse me of being conniving? From where I sit, I can't see that your motives are much different from the ones that you accused me of!"
Yancy grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her slightly. "I never planned a danm thing! Except to take you to del Sol!"
"Oh? You're telling me that what happened was just an accident? That you didn't mean to make me pregnant? That you don't hope that a child will result from what we did today?"
"'Demoniol It wasn't like that at all! I never meant to—^" He broke off and scowled at her. "I only meant for us to stop and rest. You'd been in the saddle since shortly after midnight, and when we came to this place I thought"—^his scowl deepened—^"I thought that a short
rest would be good for you before we traveled any further today."
"Is that so?" she asked sweetly. "You had no intention of seducing me? The idea of making love to me hadn't crossed your mind at all?"
He cursed virulently under his breath and pushed her back onto the spring grass. His dark, handsome face looming above hers, his mouth mere tantalizing inches from hers, he muttered, "You little witch! You have to know that since I kissed you in Sam's office I've thought of nothing else but making love to you!"
He kissed her roughly, as if he were angry, but whether with her or himself, Sara couldn't tell; she only knew that letting him kiss her was dangerous and that she dared not allow it to continue. She struggled against him, but he was bigger and very determined and she could not dislodge him, his warm, long, muscled length pressing her deeper into the grass. His lips were demanding as they moved over hers, his tongue bluntly forcing itself into her mouth.
Dizzily Sara fought what was happening, frantic to stop him before things went too far. Finally she managed to get an elbow between their locked bodies and twisted her mouth away from his.
"Stop it!" she choked out. "Don't make things any worse than they already are!"
They were both breathing hard and for a long moment they stared at each other, their faces still close together.
The dark desire faded from Yancy's eyes and, a bitter cast to his mouth, he muttered, "I didn't intend this either ... I..." A half-angry, half-bewildered expression crossed his face. "I get near you and I stop thinking about anything but how sweet your mouth would taste, or how much I want to bury myself within you ... how slick and hot you would feel, how tight, how much pleasure you would give me." He paused, his eyes boring into
hers, and he said thickly, "You must believe, Sara, I never meant for this to happen/* Honesty made him add, "At least not now. Not here and not like this. I really only meant to give you a respite from our journey. You have to believe that when I woke you, it was only to tell you that we had to be leaving. I never meant to kiss
you *' He swallowed, his eyes dropping to her soft
mouth. "It just happened ... I didn't plan it. You were just so sweet and irresistible—I meant to kiss you just once, but ..." Almost compulsively, he brushed his mouth near the comer of hers. "But once I kissed you, I could not stop myself ... I wanted you.*' He slowly kissed her again, his lips dragging erotically against hers. Huskily he said, "I want you again ... now...."
His kiss was black magic, but knowing that if she didn't escape him now, before the demands of her own body befuddled her, there would be no escape, Sara tore herself from his embrace and scrambled hastily to her feet. Avoiding looking in his direction and the carnal temptation he offered, she shakily gathered the rest of her scattered clothing and ran blindly to the small creek that edged the area where they had stopped. D
ropping her clothes on the dry ground, she stepped right into the rushing water, glad that the creek was deeper than it looked. The sun-warmed water rose almost to her hips. She had a savagely instinctive need to wash the signs and scent of their coupling from her body, as if by destroying any outward evidence she could also obliterate the fact that it had ever happened. Again and again she dunked herself under the water, her hands scrubbing her flesh, frantic to completely erase the tiniest renmant of their passion.
Sara wasn't even aware that she was crying, the tears streaming down her face, until Yancy, having joined her in the creek, pulled her into his arms and said softly, *'Preciosa Don't cry! I never meant—" He cursed under
his breath and muttered, "I'm sorry. I swear I won't touch you." His mouth twisted bitterly, for he was too aware of his shortcomings where she was concerned. "I mean, I swear I'll try not to touch you again—^you're just too damned appealing for your own good!"
She looked up at him. "Then let me go," she said huskily. "Take me back to Magnolia Grove."
Yancy's arms tightened around her and his half-remorseful, half-indulgent expression vanished instantly. His mouth set in hard lines, he said, "No. Don't ask that of me!"
Angrily Sara pushed herself out of his arms and, heedless of her nakedness, waded from the creek. Swiftly donning her clothes, she paid no attention to Yancy as he slowly left the water and garbed himself.
Yancy watched her closely, dismrbed and uneasy at the stony set of her lovely face. Por Dios What the hell was he going to do with her? It wasn't meant to be this way! The look on her face tore at his gut, filling him with an angry, guilty despair. He hadn't meant to make love to her ... not this soon anyway, and it had had nothing to do with giving her a child or Sam's will!
Walking over to where she stood near the horses, he cleared his throat and muttered, "I made a fire and there's some coffee and sandwiches. I think it might be a good idea if you ate and had some coffee before we leave."
Sara flashed him an angry glance. "Don't be nice to me!"
Yancy held on to his temper with an effort. "Not nice," he finally said. "Sensible! There are still several hours of daylight left and I intend for us to ride until dark. Eat something now or not—^but be warned, chica: you'll be damned hungry before we stop and make camp."
Sara would have liked to throw his offer of food in his face, but her stomach rumbled just then and she spun on
her heels and stalked over to where a small fire burned. In an unfriendly silence, they drank the boiled coffee and ate the thick sandwiches that Yancy had brought with him.
It was only when they were remounted and preparing to ride on that Yancy spoke. His horse standing next to hers, the reins of her mount and the pack horse's lead rope firmly held in one of his hands, he looked at her averted profile and said softly, "Sara, I can't undo what's been done—I don't even know that I want to—but you must believe that I didn't plan what happened."
"I asked you to believe me about Sam, but you didn't. Well, now it's my turn to return the favor." She flashed him a look full of fire and, her eyes dark and stormy, said fiercely, '7 don't believe youV Averting her face once more, she stared blindly in the opposite direction from him.
Yancy smdied the delicate, stony-faced profile presented to him for a long time, stunned by the feeling of pain that knotted in his chest. His mouth tightened. Cristol He was not going to be taken in again by a pretty face! No matter what strange and powerful feelings she aroused in the region of his heart—he'd suffered through that once and wasn't about to do it again—no matter how tempting the bait! Margaret had wreaked enough havoc and anguish in his life to last him until the end of his days, and no matter how beguiling Sara appeared, no matter how sweetly vulnerable she looked, no matter how desirable he found her, he was not going to fall into that trap again! Not ever!
His voice clipped, he said, "Have it your way, then!"
The silence that now accompanied them on their journey was not pleasant, and though they had not spoken often previously, there was not one word exchanged between them during the next several hours. The stop had delayed them far longer than Yancy had planned.
and since he had a specific destination in mind for their night's camp, he pushed them hard, even continuing to ride long after the sun had set.
Not a seasoned horsewoman, although she had ridden off and on ail her life, Sara ached in every bone and muscle of her body as the miles passed. As the light faded and the darkness descended, she was thoroughly miserable, hungry, weary and achy, but she bore it all without an outward sign of distress. She swore she'd die before she'd ask Yancy to stop, but she couldn't help the grateful little groan that came from her when Yancy finally halted the horses and said, "We'll camp here for the night."
It was too dark for Sara to distinguish much about her surroundings, but she gathered from the faint gurgle of running water and the scattered dark shapes of trees that it was a spot very similar to the place they had stopped at earlier. She dismounted clumsily, shoving away Yancy's hand when he offered to help her. Teeth gritted together, she muttered, "Don't touch me!"
Yancy sighed exasperatedly and turned away, busying himself with securing the horses and unsaddling them. Sara stood there glaring at him uncertainly until he said coolly over his shoulder, "If you're not going to help, go find somewhere to sit down and stay out of my way."
Normally the most considerate of creatures, Sara tossed her tangled hair and said sharply, "Since I'm here under duress, I don't think you can reasonably expect me to help you in any way!"
He slanted her an unreadable glance in the darkness. "Yeah, sweetheart," he said acidly, "I'm sure that I can't expect you to do anyX\m% reasonably!"
"I'm glad we understand each other!" she retorted.
The open hostility between them did not lessen, and after bolting down another meal of sandwiches and coffee, Sara was glad to seek relief in sleep. Earlier Yancy
had placed her saddle a little distance from the small fire he had started and had thrown down a couple of blankets. "Madam's bed," he had said dryly.
At first glance, it didn't seem very inviting, but after what she had gone through since the last time she had been in a bed, Sara found it more comfortable than she would have suspected. Her head resting on the saddle, her belly full, and wrapped in her blankets, Sara was asleep almost the instant she lay down.
The same couldn't be said for Yancy. He sat at the side of the lazy little fire, his brooding gaze locked onto Sara's sleeping form. She was, in more ways than he cared to think about, a dilemma for him. He had planned her abduction to del Sol with an almost lighthearted zeal, certain in his own mind that it was what he needed to do in order to protect Sara from her own foolishness. Her idea of living at Casa Paloma was ludicrous—^the damned place was in danger of falling down, and in trying to repair it, she'd end up squandering every penny she'd inherited from Sam. His mouth thinned. Not that he really cared. It just wasn't practical, he told himself grimly. And there was the matter of Sam's will.
For Diosl What in hell had Sam been thinking of when he had tied up the disposal of Casa Paloma in such a way? Even if Yancy believed that Sara had been instrumental in convincing Sam to put such a requirement in his will, he had trouble persuading himself that Sam had been so totally besotted to go along with her scheming. Hadn't his father learned anything from Margaret? Besides, Sam had known how he felt about Casa Paloma! Yancy smiled bitterly. Hell! He'd threatened to kill Margaret to keep her from getting her grasping claws on the place—what did his father think he'd do to Sara? Sam would have had to know that he'd do everything in his power to make certain that Casa Paloma returned to the Alvarez lands.
In the act of taking a last sip of coffee from his tin cup, Yancy froze. Of course! That conniving old bastard! Even from the grave he was trying to manipulate him! His mouth twisted. And this time Sam had baited the trap with an almost irresistible lure—Sara!
Frowning, Yancy tossed aside his empty cup. Had Sa
m known how attractive he found Sara? Had his father put in that damnable clause simply to ensure that he was well and truly snared?
Yancy shook his head bewilderedly. Despite their differences, and there had been many, he would never have believed his father capable of such devious maneuverings. Sam had been a kind, genwous man, which gave credence to Sara's version of the situation, but his father had also been weak-willed and easily swayed, and YarK^y found it impossible to believe that Sam had methodically thought out a plan that would unite his widow aid his son. And yet the unsettling idea nagged at him that Sara might be telling the truth.... Yancy was suddenly suffused with a powerful wash of hope, but then it faded almost immediately, Margaret's memory and her betrayal inexorably rising through him. No! He was not being tricked again! Never again would he lose his head over a pretty face and a beguiling smile! Never!
There were, he finally decided wearily, no easy answers and none that fully satisfied him—not even blaming everything on Sara! And, the Lord knew, he would have liked to do just that! Grumbling and swearing under his breath, he eventually settled himself next to her on the ground. Time had a way of revealing all truths and he sure as the devil wasn't going to resolve anything tonight. Tomorrow and in the days that followed he would plumb the riddle of Sara Cantrell.
Instinctively, his body curved itself spoon-fashion along Sara's. Yancy told himself his position was necessary because he needed to be close to her in case she
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