This Fierce Splendor: A Loveswept Classic Romance

by Iris Johansen

  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.”

  She smiled. “I don’t know about Eldorado or seven cities. For all I know they may be real. I’d like to try to discover the truth about them someday, but right now my whole purpose is to find Kantalan. And we can find it together, Mr. Delaney.”

  Lord, she was stubborn, Dominic thought, trying to smother the spark of admiration tempering his feeling of annoyance. He rose to his feet and inclined his head politely. “Good afternoon, Miss MacGregor. This is the last time we’ll be having this discussion. I’ve had my fill of the MacGregors, father and daughter, badgering me. I want to make my position crystal-clear: I won’t see or talk to you again. If you speak to me, I won’t reply. I hope you have an enjoyable stay in Hell’s Bluff because I promise it won’t be a fruitful one.” He turned away, glancing at Patrick. “Coming?”

  “Not right now.” Patrick’s gaze was fixed with sympathy on Elspeth’s face. “You go on. I’ll join you at the Nugget in a little while.”

  Dominic felt a jab of exasperation and another emotion which he refused to examine too closely. “Suit yourself,” he said curtly.

  Elspeth watched him stride out of the room, her hands clenching ever more tightly. “He’s so hard,” she whispered.

  “He’s had to be. He’s been on the dodge for almost ten years,” Patrick said. “He had to get tough or get killed. A man named Durbin has had gunfighters on
his trail since he left Killara. Durbin wasn’t satisfied with making sure every lawman in the Southwest was looking for Dom.”

  “Durbin?”

  “Charles Durbin. When Dominic was about my age, he shot and killed Durbin’s son in a gunfight. It was a fair fight but Dominic was just a little faster.”

  “Then why wasn’t he acquitted?”

  “It never came to trial. Durbin is a banker in Tucson and has enough money to buy whatever he wants.” He shrugged. “He bought three witnesses who swore the Durbin kid wasn’t armed when Dom shot him. If Dom hadn’t run, they would have hung him.”

  “Why are you telling me this? I don’t care if your uncle’s a desperado or not. It doesn’t affect me. I need only one thing from him.”

  He smiled gently. “That’s why I’m telling you. So you’ll realize you’re not going to get from him what you’re asking. The kind of life Dom’s led has whipped most of the softness out of him. He does exactly what he wants to do these days.” He paused. “And he doesn’t want to go searching for any lost cities.”

  She was silent a moment, her teeth gnawing at her lower lip. Then she rose briskly to her feet. “He’ll have to change his mind. I’ll just have to find a way to wear him down. Where is he staying? I’ll go to see him tomorrow morning.”

  He shook his head. “You can’t.”

  “Of course I can. Where is he staying?”

  “It’s not a place a lady can visit.” He shifted uneasily.

  She stared at him in puzzlement.

  He sighed resignedly. “Dom rents a room in a wh—house of ill repute.”

  “Oh,” she said blankly. “I guess it would be awkward for me to go there.”

  His lips twitched. “Yeah. Awkward.”

  She brightened. “Well, he can’t stay there all the time. I’ll see him somewhere else.”

  “What good would that do? He said he wouldn’t talk to you or see you.”

  “He may choose not to talk to me at first, but he will do so eventually.” She smiled with considerably more confidence than she felt. “And there’s no question that he’ll see me. I’ll make certain of it. Thank you for your kindness to me, Mr. Delaney.”

  “Patrick,” he corrected her solemnly. “Formality is out of place when a gentleman has recently stuck up a lady’s stagecoach.”

  She nodded. “And you must call me Elspeth. Will I see you tomorrow also, Patrick?”

  He hesitated before slowly shaking his head. “I have to leave before daybreak for the ranch.” He stood up, his expression troubled. “I may come back next Saturday night, but I imagine you’ll have left Hell’s Bluff by that time.” He hoped so. He didn’t like the way this situation was developing. Dominic’s temper was very finely balanced these days. He wouldn’t allow himself to be pushed far before he turned and savaged any aggressor, and it was clear the little owl was planning on being very aggressive indeed. “If you change your mind, I could arrange for a seat for you on the coach tomorrow morning.”

  “I’ll be here when you return next Saturday,” she said firmly. “Thank you, again, Patrick.”

  “My pleasure.” He bowed. He had done all he could do. He only hoped Dominic wouldn’t be too rough on her. “Until Saturday.”

  She kept a smile pasted on until he had left the parlor. It vanished the moment she could no longer see the back of his fiery hair. She closed her eyes and drew a long, quivering breath. Her knees were shaking and the palms of her hands were moist and cold. This interview had been more difficult than she had imagined it could be. Independence would become easier for her in time, she assured herself desperately. It wasn’t simple to break the habits of a lifetime, and she’d had the bad luck to pit herself against a man like Dominic Delaney in her first real attempt. She had found herself breathlessly nervous and unsure from the moment he’d walked into the room. Even before he’d bluntly refused to consider her offer, she had detected an antagonism in him that had heightened her physical responses to a near painful level of sensitivity. Why had he been antagonistic? She had felt his gaze moving over her face as though trying to see beneath the flesh. What on earth had he been looking for?

  A weakness perhaps. She didn’t fool herself that there was anything about her appearance he might find attractive. Her father had been very careful to let her know that men would never look at her with anything but indifference. No, Dominic Delaney had been searching for holes in her armor in order that he might more easily rid himself of her unwelcome presence.

  “Are you quite well, Mademoiselle MacGregor?”

  She swiftly opened her eyes. Andre Marzonoff stood in the doorway. He had changed into a beautifully tailored coat in a shade of pearl gray; it was even less flattering to his girth than the biscuit-colored one he had worn previously.

  However, his concern was obviously sincere and she forced herself to smile. “I’m just tired. I think I’ll go to my room and rest.”

  “Perhaps you should have something to eat. I would be honored if you would join me at dinner.”

  “I’m not hungry.” Her stomach was fluttering and the very thought of food made her a little ill. Yet he seemed so disappointed, she added, “We could have breakfast together if you’re not engaged.”

  His face lit up and he shook his head emphatically. “I would be delighted. I know no one in Hell’s Bluff.”

  “Then why are you here?” she asked curiously.

  “It is a most exciting place. In Tucson they told me it was the toughest boomtown in Arizona. I thought I would meet many interesting people here.” His tone became carefully casual. “Perhaps you could introduce me to your business associate, Dominic Delaney, when you have finished your transaction?”

  “I’m afraid you’d better rely on someone else for an introduction.” She wrinkled her nose. “Mr. Delaney wasn’t pleased with my proposition.”

  His smile faded. “Oh. Well, perhaps I can strike up an acquaintance somewhere else. I hear he is a professional gambler.”

  “When he’s not shooting people, you mean?” she asked dryly.

  His brow furrowed. “Oh, he’s not really a murderer. It is the custom here. A gunfight is as honorable as a duel is in Europe.”

  She stared at him in disbelief at his enthrallment with the West and its gunfighters. Suddenly, though, she realized there was something quite vulnerable, even a little pitiful in his childlike excitement. “I see,” she said gently. “I hope you’re able to arrange to meet Mr. Delaney. I believe he was planning on going to a place called the Nugget when he left here.”

  “Thank you.” He looked eagerly at the door. “I hope you rest well. Shall we meet in the dining room at nine?”

  She was surprised he even remembered their proposed breakfast appointment. It was obvious he couldn’t wait to go in search of Dominic Delaney. “That will be fine.”

  His reply was barely audible as he hurried from the room.

  A few minutes later Elspeth breathed a sigh of relief as she closed the door of her room behind her. She could relax now. There was no one to see how weak and insecure she felt. This America was such a strange place with its brash and fast-moving people. Every time she turned around there was something new and different with which she had to cope. She had traveled extensively with her father both on the Continent and in the Far East but under very different circumstances. Her father had made quite sure she was kept too busy doing his research to have time to experience the practical and emotional difficulties of existing in a foreign land, a fact that had both disheartened and relieved her.

  Even this hotel room was strange. The small chamber was clean, but it bore no resemblance to other hotel rooms in which she’d stayed. And, of course, it was nothing at all like her bedroom in the narrow two-story brick home in which she had grown up. The rough pine boards of this floor were covered by bright rugs in a bold design reminding her of a picture of an Aztec mosaic she’d seen in a book in London. The double bed across the room had no headboard and the springs were sagging slight
ly; the spread covering it was no more than a shabby patchwork quilt. A mahogany nightstand was adjacent to the bed and a rocking chair with a woven straw seat occupied the corner of the room to the left of the window. The mahogany armoire against the other wall was chipped and scarred and the flower-sprigged China basin and pitcher on the washstand next to it were permanently stained. It was a totally depressing and impersonal room, she thought in discouragement. If this sort of room was all that was available to rent, it was no wonder Dominic Delaney chose to live elsewhere.

  Then the color stained her cheeks as she realized how naive had been her thought. A man like Delaney didn’t live in a bordello for the quality of the bed but for the quality of the women in it. Elspeth was quite aware of a man’s physical needs and his casual way of satisfying them. Indeed, a by-product of studying antiquities had been the gain of a good deal of knowledge about hetaeras and the services they rendered. Services. The word was inappropriate when used in connection with Dominic Delaney. It sounded bland. Mechanical. That hardly applied to the man whose every movement was intense and radiated vitality. Even when he was still she had been conscious of something waiting to break free. Did it break free when he was with one of those women who lived in the bordello? She could imagine his face dark, intense, as he—

  She straightened hurriedly and walked quickly toward the single window across the room. What was the matter with her? What did she care how he behaved toward the Hell’s Bluff version of hetaeras? She pushed aside the rose-colored calico curtains and stared out the window. There was little to see. The window faced the back street, and any view of the grandeur of the mountains she might have had was marred by the white post supporting the balcony and the flight of stairs leading down to the hard-baked dirt of the street. The only attractive thing within sight was a huge stately oak tree at the end of the street. It looked old, very old, and had an air of reassuring permanence in this town that seemed appallingly new.