Hannah Howell (4 page)

“He gave you a kiss for a child. Tomás gives you a kiss for a woman.” He turned with her to look at Oro, who had made a mocking sound.

“You can do better,
amigo?"
Antonie asked with a grin, partly prompted by the shock on Patricia's face.

“Of course. Who do you think instructed Tomás?” He put his arm around Antonie and proceeded to demonstrate his skill.

“Amateurs,” Justin drawled when Oro lifted his head and grinned at the increasingly warm Antonie.

“Oho, the
gringo
challenges.” Tomás laughed and was clearly as amused as Antonie was over Patricia's gaping face.

Moving next to Justin, Antonie leaned toward him and drawled, “Well,
amigo?"

Gently and clearly savoring every minute of it, Justin kissed her, then asked a little huskily, “Well?"

“I think I'd best stop this lesson or I will fall off my horse.” Antonie grinned when the young men laughed and then she took a hearty drink, for she was feeling decidedly warm. “This kissing is thirsty business."

“You're going to walk in and kiss Royal?” Patricia squeaked as she finally guessed Antonie's plan.

"Sí.
I owe him one and I always pay my debts,” she purred. “Come. If we move we will get there before the wine is gone."

They increased their speed just a little and Justin made no complaint. Antonie guessed that he was eager to get home. At the ranch there would be a soft bed to ease his pain.

Antonie kept an eye on Patricia, watching as the girl tried not to look shocked by the increasingly free behavior around her. Even Oro grew less quiet and gentlemanly as the wine flowed. He joined Tomás in entertaining the less worldly Justin with some decidedly ribald stories. That Patricia had somehow managed to remain unaware of this side of men was very evident. Antonie was rather glad that she had not been raised as a proper little lady. It looked to have a lot of drawbacks.

She turned her thoughts to Royal Bancroft as they crested a rise and the ranch came into view. Except for jade green eyes and chestnut hair, she remembered little of him. She was curious to see if he recalled her at all.

“Don't worry so, Royal. I'm sure there's a simple reason for their tardiness. We just couldn't keep holding dinner, however,” Marilyn said haughtily.

Royal thought twenty minutes a paltry delay, but did not say so. “You're right, of course. Still, it'll soon be dark.” He tensed at the sound of a commotion in the front hall. “Ah, maybe they're here at last."

He gaped as widely as his guests at the person who finally entered the dining room. That it was neither Patricia nor Justin was all that registered in Royal's mind. Those two appeared in the doorway an instant later but he was unable to acknowledge them. He only faintly noticed that the ladies at the table were looking terrified and the men were gawking.

The girl wore snug black pants that nicely displayed her gently rounded hips and slim legs. Her black shirt fit equally well over her high, full breasts. Her cornsilk hair was gathered in one thick swatch, tied with a red bandana, and brought forward over her right shoulder to hang in a heavy, glossy wave past her hips. A single holster was at her tiny waist, sloping to her hip, and a knife hilt was visible over the top of her boot, yet, strangely enough, none of it distracted from her femininity. When she reached him, she pushed back her hat which gave him a brief glimpse of purple eyes, grinned as she sat on his lap and began to heartily kiss him.

Startled was not all that Royal felt. He forgot all about the guests seated at his table as her full breasts pressed against his chest, her long fingers stroked his neck, and her honeyed tongue stroked the inside of his mouth. When she pulled away, he finally put purple eyes, black clothes, and cornsilk hair together to make a name.

“Antonie,” he croaked, hoping his guests would think he was dazed with surprise instead of white hot lust.

"Sí, gringo."
She wondered where her breath had gone. “Now we are even, eh?"

“No. I think you're a notch above me. I didn't kiss you like that,” he said softly. “What are you doing here?"

“Royal,” hissed Marilyn.

“Oh.” He realized he was still holding Antonie on his lap and set her on her feet before him.

“I brought your sister and brother back,
gringo."
Leaning against the table, Antonie nodded toward the door.

His gaze flew to the doorway where Patricia and Justin stood with a matched set of well-armed men and he finally looked closely at his siblings. Patricia was looking wide-eyed and shocked, but Justin was snickering along with the twins. It was that slight sign of camaraderie that lessened the threatening appearance of the well-armed twins. Justin's battered appearance told Royal that there had been some trouble, however, and, with Cole following suit, he started toward them. Antonie slid into Royal's seat and surveyed the table.

Patricia gave a small cry and ran to the ready shelter of Royal's arms. “We were attacked. The hands were killed."

“Ramirez, the bastard,” roared Henry Collins.

“No,” Antonie said quietly as she helped herself to a piece of pie. “It was Raoul Mendez."

“Are you sure?” Cole asked as he helped Justin sit down.

"Sí,"
Oro replied as he sat on the arm of Antonie's chair and helped himself to some wine. “There were six of them."

“Nonsense,” growled Collins. “Mendez doesn't come to this area. It was that damned Ramirez, I tell you."

“And I tell you,” snapped Antonie, “that it was Mendez. Ah,
por Dios,
strawberries.” She stabbed one with her knife and rolled it in the sugar, then popped it into her mouth, giving an ecstatic sigh.

“Ah, folks,” Royal began apologetically after he had found a seat for Patricia, “I think we will have to call it a night."

He hastily cleared his home of guests. It was hard not to tell Henry just why he trusted Antonie's word on who the attackers had been. He replied to Marilyn's somewhat shrill demands about who Antonie was with the same vagueness. It was not only a need to hear what had happened that hurried him, but an eagerness to feast his eyes on the woman Antonie had become.

“Never seen a house emptied so fast,” drawled Cole as Royal strode back into the dining room.

“They'll find excuses to come by tomorrow, I've no doubt.” He collapsed into a chair next to Antonie and sent her a mock glare. “Was it necessary to insult one of my guests?"

“Bah, that pig talks through his,” she paused and grinned, “hat. I know my
bandidos,
eh,
gringo?"

“Without doubt, but I am not about to tell Henry why that is.” He glanced pointedly at the twins.

“Ah, Oro and Tomás Degas. Manuel's sons.” She giggled when Royal groaned. “Oro has the scar."

“You said you were attacked?” he asked Patricia, taking her hand in a gentle grasp.

“On the way to San Antonio,” she replied, her voice unsteady as she recalled everything, telling the tale with Justin's occasional help.

“You weren't hurt, were you, Pattie?” he asked tensely when she had finished, for the extent of the personal attack upon her was not made clear.

“No, the rabbit is whole,” Antonie replied when Patricia seemed struck speechless. “The bastard died—quickly."

“Thank you, Antonie. You and your friends must stay the night. Rest before you go back."

“We are not going back. Not yet. We are here to give you your ranch."

Royal abruptly raised his brows. “How can you give me something I already have?"

“I put that wrong. I mean we are here to see that you keep what you have. That will clear Juan's debt. He told me to come here and to see to this matter. I promised him on his deathbed, so here I am,
gringo,
and here I stay until all is done."

“Ramirez is dead?” Cole asked.

"Sí."
She fought down a grief she had not really dealt with yet. “It is over."

“I am sorry for your loss, Antonie,” Royal said quietly.

“Ah, well, he, Julio, and Manuel will give the devil a good run, eh? Now I must clear his debt."

“There's no debt, Antonie. You could've killed Cole but you didn't, and now you've helped these two. That's more than enough."

“No, I told Juan I would come and help save your ranch. This I will do."

“Save it from what?” He tried to still the erotic images forming in his head as he watched her lick the sugar off her fingers.

“From whom. I do not know. Someone close, Juan said. Raoul is in his pay. He killed your parents and is the one who keeps raiding you. There is to be much trouble for you on this drive you plan. We will be your guns."

“Where did Juan get his information?” Royal had recently begun to think that his trouble was not all bad luck.

“This I cannot tell you. It was not for me to know. But, if Juan said you are to have trouble, you will have it."

“Much more trouble and there won't be any need to worry about the ranch,” grumbled Justin. “We'll lose it for sure."

“Exactly,” said Antonie. “That is how the game is played. Enough little cuts and you bleed to death."

“Colorfully put,” Royal drawled, hastily pouring himself a glass of the wine that Antonie, Tomás, and Oro were drinking so much of. “Just the other day I was thinking that it couldn't all be rotten luck. We were being hit harder and more often than any of the others. It was as if our every move was known. This drive now. I've only talked to a few people about it, but Juan heard of it in Mexico."

“We've known the people around here since we were born. Who the hell could it be?” Cole wondered aloud.

“You must think who would gain most.” Tomás began to finish off the pie.

“Unfortunately, Tomás, that could be any one of our neighbors.” Royal suddenly became aware of the fact that even Patricia and Justin were eating anything that had been left of the desserts. “I gather you haven't had your supper,” he said dryly.

“No,” Patricia replied and stood up. “I'll go talk to Maria, shall I? There must be something quick she can get us."

“Yes, do that, Pattie. Careful, she's not in the best of tempers."

“Oh.” Patricia stopped at the door to frown at Royal. “Has Marilyn been here helping?"

“Excessively. We'll need some rooms readied, too.” Pattie nodded and left, so Royal turned his attention back to Antonie.

“This Marilyn, she was the one sitting next to you?” Royal nodded and Antonie grinned. “She is hot for you,
gringo,
eh?"

Sending a quelling look at his snickering brothers before replying, Royal said firmly, “She was being neighborly and helping with this affair."

Antonie made a mocking noise. “If you do not want to marry her, you'd best start running faster,
amigo.
She has set a claim on you. I see the way she stares when I greet you."

“The manner of your greeting would make anyone stare."

“Pretty good, eh? I think of that as we were riding here. Even practiced, eh, Oro?"

"Sí,"
Oro replied, “but you never said which one of us was best,
querida.
You may admit it was Oro. The other two will take it like men."

Knowing she was being set up for an awkward situation, Antonie smiled slowly and leaned toward Royal, slipping her arm around his neck. “I think maybe it was this
gringo.
More practice than you or the other two."

This time Royal was not restrained by surprise. He drank greedily from her strawberry-sweetened mouth. His hands ached to move over her gentle curves, but the sound of the laughing jests of their audience restrained him.

"Por Dios!"
Maria cried, abruptly pulling Royal free of the moment of heady passion.

“Oh no, she's at it again,” Patricia muttered.

Reluctantly releasing her, Royal turned to see Maria and Patricia standing in the doorway. He went to help them with the food they had brought. It was a diversion he needed to get his thoughts out of a decidedly carnal vein. Seeing that Oro had slipped into his chair as soon as he had left it, he sat between Oro and Patricia after a wide-eyed Maria had left.

As the others ate, Royal studied Antonie and the Degas twins. It was hard to evaluate what relationship existed there. That they were close was easy to see, but whether it was as friends or lovers was not. He acknowledged a somewhat furious loathing of the possibility that she was the lover of any man, but did not delve into the why of that.

Cole was right. The girl was certainly something. She was still small, still delicately beautiful, but now she exuded a subtle sensuality and possessed the woman's body to match it. There was a wildness in her, barely leashed, that called to a man, beckoned to him to test how it would affect her passion. He had sensed some of it in her kiss and was more than eager to savor it fully.

“Have you thought of who is after your land?” Antonie asked Royal, proud of how clearly her wine-tangled tongue had performed.

“No. It's going to need a great deal of looking into. I don't want to believe it of any of the ones I know.” He sighed, the thought of someone he called friend betraying him causing more sadness than fury at the moment.

“Ah, well, there is time yet before your drive. It is too bad that Raoul's man knew nothing, but Raoul knows we watch now,” Oro said coldly, his face briefly setting into harsh lines that made him look far older than his twenty-two years.

While Oro had spoken, Antonie had realized that she had passed her limit of wine. Juan had taught her well and she recognized the signs of impending collapse. With a graceful dignity that belied her inebriated state, she rose and walked to the door.

“I will go to bed now.
Buenas noches."

She made her way carefully up the stairs, meeting Maria and a young maid just coming out of a room. With extreme politeness, she inquired about which room had been allotted to her. Maria timidly directed her and watched wide-eyed as Antonie walked to her bed, lay down, and promptly closed her eyes. Antonie made no reply to the woman's soft worried inquiries and heard Maria return to her work muttering about what sort of people the
patrón
was getting mixed up with.