Texas Proud (Vincente 2) (21 page)

"I believe this is my dance," Noble said softly,
with the merest glint of mockery in his dark eyes.

Tanner hurriedly relinquished his partner, stepping back a few paces. He mumbled something
about a glass of punch and moved off the dance
floor. Rachel seemed to float into Noble's arms as if he willed her there, and she had no strength to
refuse him. He seemed to will her to look at him,
which she did. Neither spoke for a moment. His
hand rested lightly against her waist, guiding her
steps and drawing her firmly under his spellbinding power. His fingers felt strong and warm; she
could feel the heat of them through her gloves. He
was a good dancer, strong and commanding, as
in life. His footsteps matched hers, and their bodies fell into tune with the music and with each
other.

Every eye was drawn to Noble and Rachel. Noble was so dark, so handsome Rachel was fair
and beautiful. He wore tight-fitting black trousers
with silver braid down the legs. His white shirt
was ruffled and a startling contrast to his dark
skin. His short bolero jacket had the same trim as
his trousers. He looked every inch the Spanish
don.

Green eyes stared into liquid brown eyes, and it
seemed to Rachel that she and Noble were the
only two people in the room.

Her mouth went dry and her voice came out in
a breathy whisper. "I didn't expect you to come
tonight."

Noble watched conflicting emotions play across
her beautiful face-first stubbornness, then uncertainty, lastly pride. "Didn't you, Rachel?"

"No. I didn't."

"But Rachel, you issued me an invitation. It was the least I could do since you honored my invitation."

"I don't know what you mean."

He laughed softly and dipped his dark head to
whisper in her ear. "I invited you to swim; you
invited me to the dance."

"I don't recall inviting you to the dance."

"Not in so many words, perhaps, but you did
want me to come tonight, didn't you?"

She tensed. "If you were a gentleman, you
would forget about that day I...I"

He drew her so close that she was aware of
every breath he took. She trembled from being so
close to him.

"If it is your wish, I shall never mention our
swim again." He smiled. "But my thoughts will be
my own."

"Why did you come?"

"To dance with you."

A rush of pleasure surged through her. When he
whirled her around, Rachel caught the yearning
expressions on several of the other ladies' faces.
"There are many women who would like to
change places with me tonight. Although they are
probably in awe of you."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"In awe of me?"

"No. Why should I be?"

He laughed down at her. "Why indeed? I see many men who would like to be holding you in
their arms."

"You flatter me."

His breath fanned her cheek. "No, Green Eyes.
I speak only the truth with you." His grip tightened on her hand. "Will you be equally honest
with me?"

"I must hear the question before I give my answer."

His eyes danced with humor. "It's really quite
simple. Should I be jealous of one of the men in
this room?"

"No." Her eyes were clear and honest. "There is
no one."

He let out a tight breath. "Then the men in Madragon County are all fools."

Delia watched her sister dance with Noble while
Whit watched Delia. "You wish it were you in his
arms, don't you, my dear?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm just concerned about
my sister," she replied chillingly.

Whit stared at the man he despised most in the
world the man who possessed everything he
wanted but could never have. Noble had breeding,
wealth and power. The wealth and power, Whit
could obtain, but he would always be the son of a
line foreman. He'd been born in a sod hut with
dirt floors and no windows, while Noble had been
born into an illustrious family and wore his name
like a badge of honor. "Look at him, Delia. He's even managed to convince everyone that he didn't
kill your father."

"He didn't kill him."

The evening had turned sour for Whit. "The
town's so willing to welcome the prodigal son
home. Look at their faces see how they kowtow
to him the butcher, the baker, the candlestick
maker, all anxious to bask in Noble's bounty. I've
heard that Casa del Sol is undergoing extensive
repairs, and everyone in Tascosa Springs wants a
slice of the pie."

"It seems that you hear a lot of things for someone just arrived from Austin."

"I told you before that I have my sources."

"And I told you, Whit, that I don't want to know
any of your sordid little secrets."

"Keep your voice down, my dear." Although he
had spoken softly, the threat was real. "Do you
want everyone to think that our marriage is less
than ideal?"

She turned on him. "You are good at making
people believe what you want them to believe. Just
don't tell me how you do it."

His eyes were like burning coals. "That's right,
Delia. As long as you don't know the truth, you
don't have to feel a part of it, do you? But let's just
suppose that I'm the one who brings about Noble's
downfall." His gaze rested on Noble as he spoke.
"What would I have gained by it?"

"Some sick satisfaction, I suppose. All I heard
about tonight is how bravely Noble fought in the war. Where were you while Noble was fighting,
Whit?"

He looked at her through half-closed eyelids. "I
was at home pleasuring you, my dear."

"Insufferable fool," she whispered, feeling hysteria rising inside her. "I want to go home."

His grip tightened painfully on her fingers. "Get
a hold of yourself, Delia. Say and do what you will
when we leave here, but you will conduct yourself
with dignity tonight."

"I detest you."

His eyes hardened. "Does it matter? You are my
wife, and you will remain my wife until one or
both of us are dead." His hand slid up her shoulder, and he urged her forward. "Now, suppose we
pay homage to Noble. Don't you think it's time you
renewed an old acquaintance?"

Noble saw Whit and Delia moving in their direction. "Rachel," he said, turning her toward the
door. "Will you walk outside with me?"

She was afraid to accompany him. He was the
forbidden fruit, and that only made him more exciting. Wordlessly, she placed her hand on his
arm, and people moved aside to make a path for
them.

Neither of them saw the anger on Whit's face
because Noble had publicly slighted him, nor did
they see Delia's confusion. She thought Rachel
hated Noble, but her sister wasn't acting like it
tonight.

"Delia, my dear," Mrs. McVee said, watching
Rachel and Noble leave. "I wouldn't be at all surprised if we have a wedding before long."

Delia felt stunned. "You can't mean my sister
and Noble."

The storekeeper's wife nodded. "They are perfect for each other. And there would be nothing
better than to have Broken Spur and Casa del Sol
united."

"I didn't know you held Noble in such high regard," Whit said, his brow furrowed into a frown.

"I wronged Noble terribly and I want the world
to know it." Mary McVee dabbed at her eyes with
a linen handkerchief. "Did you know that Noble
took care of our dying son?"

The smile Whit gave Mrs. McVee was hard; and
his eyes were harder. "Imagine that," he said
smoothly. "Noble Vincente, a hero."

Not a breath of air stirred. The night was studded
with stars that twinkled like thousands of diamonds against the ebony backdrop. Other people
walked about the deserted streets young couples
mostly, but Noble and Rachel paid the others no
heed. He assisted her up the plank walkway, and
they both glanced up at the moon.

"I shouldn't have come out here with you," Rachel said. "Everyone will talk."

"Yet you came anyway. I don't think you really
care what anyone says."

She glanced up at him. "Yes, I came anyway," she echoed. "But you're wrong about me. I do care
what people think of my behavior."

His gaze brushed over her from head to toe. "It
was worth coming tonight to dance with you, to
hold you." He touched her velvet sleeve. "You are
beautiful in this gown."

"If that's a compliment, I'll accept it."

He smiled. "I like you in trousers too. But I don't
like other men to see you wearing them."

"Why? What I wear is none of your affair."

He allowed his hand to move down her sleeve
to her hand. "You are right. It's not my affair
not yet."

She glanced at his face and saw the faint scar.
"I see you have recovered from your ordeal."

"So it would seem."

The closeness of his body to hers made her feel
giddy and weak. "I should return to the dance."

His hand clamped onto hers. "Is that really what
you want to do, Rachel? I have a feeling that if you
would give yourself over to love, you would find
what you are searching for."

She stared at him in confusion. "Love. Surely
you aren't suggesting that there can be any love
between us?"

"Perhaps love is a bit premature."

She took a hasty step back. "You are confusing
me.

"No, Rachel. You are confusing yourself Will
you meet me by the river tonight?" His hand went to her bare shoulder. "I want to be alone with you.
We could talk uninterrupted."

"No," Rachel replied almost too quickly. She
wanted to be alone with him more than she'd ever
wanted anything. "You know I would never do
such a thing. I fear that my outlandish behavior
that day at the river gave you the wrong opinion
of me."

He raised her hand and placed it against his
chest. "Can you feel how my heart beats when I
am with you?"

She jerked her hand back. "Don't say these
things to me," she said adamantly, shaking her
head. "I don't want to hear them."

But, oh, her heart was gladdened by his confession.

He held his hand out to her and she stepped
away.

"Don't, Noble."

"You feel it too, Rachel. You know that when
we are together something magic happens."

Suddenly she thought of Delia, and she was rescued by her anger it helped her regain her composure. "Did you feel that same magic with my
sister?" The moment the words left her mouth, she
wished she could call them back.

Noble fell quiet for a moment. "Come to me tonight at the river and we'll talk about it."

"I think not. Terrible things happen to me when
I'm with you at the river. Besides, what can you
say to me there that you can't say here?"

He pulled her into the shadows, and before she
knew what was happening, his warm mouth covered hers, cutting off her speech and making her
heart thunder in her ears. She felt as if she were
drowning and there was no escape.

He raised his head and she heard the gruffness
in his tone. "Come to me tonight." It sounded like
a plea, and she could feel his tension. "I'll be waiting for you."

She swallowed hard so she could speak past the
tightening in her throat. The need to say yes jolted
through her instead she said in a whisper,
"Never."

He pulled her to him once more, his lips sliding
across her cheek to her mouth. She was startled
when he plunged his tongue into her mouth it
made her tingle all the way to her toes, and she
clung to him, knowing she could not have pulled
away at that moment if she'd wanted to, and she
didn't want to.

He raised his head and stared at her for a
breathless moment. "I want to kiss you and keep
on kissing you," he said gruffly.

"Please don't kiss me anymore," she pleaded,
backing away from him, afraid that if he kissed
her again, she would do anything he asked of her.

With a sad smile, Noble turned and walked
away from her.

Rachel watched him mount his horse. She
heard the leather saddle creak beneath him, and
she watched as he rode away, soon to be swal lowed up by night shadows that spread across the
deserted street. Within moments the sound of his
galloping horse faded into silence, and she felt so
alone.

She clasped her hands tightly together as if trying to hold on to her willpower. She wanted to go
to him tonight, but she must not. She felt as if he
had been testing her in some strange way, although she did not know why.

"No, I will not meet him tonight," she whispered. Then she said more forcefully, "I will not!"

Noble rode straight to the river and dismounted.
Walking along the bank, he could still smell the
sweetness of Rachel's silken hair; in fact, the scent
of her was all over him. He closed his eyes as a
breeze cooled his face.

He knew she wouldn't come to him tonight. But
the time would come when she could no longer
deny the magic between them. One day she would
come to him.

The old loneliness returned to haunt him, and
he felt the tightening in his chest. He had an ache
and a need that only Rachel could ease. He
wanted her no, dammit, he needed her. She belonged to him; didn't she know that?

He leaned against the tree trunk, waiting, hoping she'd come, but knowing in his heart that she
would not.

Delia stood between them. Perhaps she always
would.

Rachel tossed and turned upon her bed. She
pounded her pillow with her fist. Another sleepless night, for which she blamed Noble. She felt
some power, some deep need pulling her and calling her to the river.

She shook her head and moaned. "No, no, I
must resist. I will not go to him." After the dance,
she realized she was too susceptible to his touch
to chance a match of wits with him.

In the quiet predawn hour, sleep still eluded Rachel. She balled her fists and pounded her pillow
as if she were hitting Noble. "Help me understand," she whispered plaintively. "I don't want to
love him."

But it was too late. She hadn't known that love
could be so consuming or hurt so badly. It was a
fragile thing, love. Perhaps she could starve it to
death by ignoring it.