Rosamonda moaned enviously, “Oh, he’s so handsome! He takes my breath away! Why does she have to have him? She’s so mean and hateful—she doesn’t deserve such a man.”
“Who says she has him?” Kit softly remarked.
Rosamonda looked at her quizzically.
Kit lifted her chin ever so slightly. “Some men collect art. From what I hear, Kurt Tanner collects women.”
“I had forgotten!” Rosamonda cried, snapping her fingers. “He danced with you at the embassy ball in Madrid. All the girls talked about the passion in your dance. Someone said they thought he even kissed you. So, are you saying that since then—”
“No!” Kit’s quick denial was too loud, and a few people looked her way curiously. She lowered her voice. “No, I did not see him after that. I don’t know anything about him except what Carasia told me—that he’s a womanizer. I don’t want anything to do with him.”
Rosamonda giggled, watching Kurt adoringly as he stood talking with Anaya and her parents. “From what I hear, it’s the other way around. It’s the women who chase him…and I can see why!”
“Well, here’s one who won’t be added to his list.” Kit suddenly decided to leave, even though the formal birthday toast had not been made. If she had known that he would be there, she would never have come, despite her mother’s wrath. “I’m going to slip out a side door. I really can’t stand being here.”
Kit stood, then sank miserably back into her chair when she realized it was too late to escape. Delhy Esteban was clapping his hands for attention, and everyone in the parlor turned in his direction. Waiters began to move quickly about the room with glasses of champagne for the celebratory toast. For the moment, Kit was trapped.
With a great flourish, Señor Esteban announced, “Thank you, one and all, for being here tonight to celebrate the birthday of my beloved and beautiful daughter, Anaya…”
On and on he went, singing Anaya’s praises, as Kit impatiently tapped a satin-slippered toe, looking everywhere but at the Estebans. She did not want Kurt Tanner to think that she was looking at him.
All of a sudden, Rosamonda gasped. She leaned closer and whispered furtively, “He’s looking at you. He glanced around the room, but then he saw you, and this strange expression came on his face, almost as if he were angry. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you since.”
Kit’s heart began to pound. She would not look in his direction, and wished desperately that she could leave.
People were standing and raising their glasses, and Kit had no choice but to do the same. There were cheers and more toasts. Then, mercifully, it was over, and the guests began to talk softly among themselves. The band resumed playing and Kit murmured a quick good night to her friend and headed for a side door.
She was halfway across the room when she heard her name being called. She pretended not to hear, but suddenly a hand reached out for her arm. She vaguely recognized someone she knew telling her, “Señorita Coltrane, our hostess is calling you…”
Once more she was trapped. She could do nothing but turn and face Anaya—who was holding on to Kurt’s arm and pulling him along with her. Kit could see that he appeared as reluctant as she for an encounter.
Anaya’s eyes glittered like those of a snake about to strike. “You’ve met my friend Kurt Tanner, I believe,” she cooed sweetly. “I seem to recall that you danced with him at the embassy ball in Madrid.”
“Your memory is partially correct, Anaya,” Kit countered frostily. “Actually, he danced with me.”
At that Kurt smiled. His gaze upon her was downright lecherous, Kit thought heatedly. It was as if he were looking right through her clothing, could see her nakedness, feel it. She hated him for it…and for the way he was making her feel inside.
“Yes, and it was a spectacle, as I recall,” Anaya went on, “but some people enjoy being the center of attention, I suppose.”
“Did you want something?” Kit snapped impatiently. “I was just leaving. Thank you for inviting me to your party, by the way…and happy birthday,” she added dryly.
“Yes, as a matter of fact I did.” Anaya moved closer to Kurt, who continued to watch Kit with a penetrating gaze. “A horse was stolen from Kurt.”
Kit stiffened, and Kurt looked puzzled.
“I thought we should tell you about it since you ride with those trashy vagabonds who would do something like that. Should you happen to see the horse that resembles the one stolen from Kurt, well, you could inform the authorities. Describe your horse, Kurt,” Anaya commanded.
Kurt quietly said, “I see no need for this, my dear.”
“Oh, but you’re wrong, Kurt darling. You see, Kit has you fooled. She really does know the kind who would steal a horse. Why, no doubt her mother forced her to come to my party. She much prefers riding with vaqueros—like a man. So she might be able to help you find your horse because she keeps company with such common riffraff.”
Swallowing her anger, Kit crisply retorted, “Rest assured, Anaya, I don’t know a soul who possesses anything that isn’t rightfully theirs. Now, finally, I bid you good night.” She turned to go, then paused to add, “But you are right about why I came. I’m afraid that my mother doesn’t know you as well as I do.”
Anaya’s eyes flashed fire, and Kit continued briskly on her way. She was furious but proud that she’d held her tongue and not told Anaya that she had absolutely nothing to fear—the last thing in the world she wanted was Kurt Tanner!
She had just reached the door when she heard her name spoken in a low, masculine voice. She froze.
A hand touched her arm, and she knew instinctively that it was him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know Anaya was going to do that. She’s unpredictable, and very jealous…” He added with a hint of amusement in his tone.
Kit brushed his hand away. “She has no reason to be jealous of me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not so sure of that.”
“I am.” She tried to leave, but he caught her arm again. She looked from his hand to his face, then scathingly said, “If you don’t leave me alone right now, I’m going to scream. Unless you want a scene, I suggest you go back to the party…and Anaya.”
Kurt released her. “You really are determined to hate me, aren’t you? Okay. Have it your way. I never was good with children.”
“How dare you—”
“You’re a spoiled brat, Kit Coltrane,” Kurt said, his face hard. “What I’d like to do is turn you over my knee and spank your beautiful bottom, but instead, I will have a word with you about tomorrow.”
“Have you decided to withdraw your ridiculous claim? If so, I’d be willing to reimburse you for—”
“Hell, no!” he exploded angrily. “That damn horse is not for sale. Now how about calling off this mad dare of yours? It’s gone far enough!”
Kit looked at him long and hard, then said, “Tomorrow you’ll find out how far is far enough!” And before Kurt could mutter more than a nasty oath, she was gone.
Once home, she changed into her riding clothes, going straight to the stables—and her beloved horse.
She rode to the beach below her house. The pebble beach glistened like silver satin in the crystal moonlight. The water was a dark and mysterious ribbon, dancing and shimmering out to the distant horizon. Dismounting, Kit leaned against a large rock, drinking in the peace and tranquility. She tried not to think of Kurt Tanner, but she knew that was why she had come here—to be alone and try to sort out her feelings. He affected her like the dreams she sometimes had—dreams so alive with passion that they frightened her.
The tide was coming in, and her boots were getting wet. After making sure Pegasus was securely grazing on some nearby weeds, she scrambled up onto a huge rock and stretched out.
The dream came over her, inspired, as always, by the beauty and freedom of her moments alone in her beloved countryside. Kit gave in to it with a sigh, flinging her arms above her head in complete submission to the fantasy. Her mystery lover
came to her on a silver horse. The man was naked, his body as powerful and magnificent as the mythical Adonis. He lifted her up easily and folded her against a rock-hard chest. Once on the ground, he stretched out beside her, his fingertips tracing a ribbon of tantalizing fire over her yearning body. She surrendered to the overpowering desire, reveling in the feel of him against her skin as they became one.
The dream usually ended abruptly, but sometimes it went on and on until a strange feeling came over her—a white-hot wave of delicious ecstasy. She would awaken damp, warm…and almost, but not quite, fulfilled.
Now Kit felt his lips on hers—warm, searching, possessive. She yielded willingly, eagerly… Suddenly she opened her eyes. Pushing him hard, she stared in disbelief. Her dream had vanished. She was sitting on a rock, in the mystical moonlight, by the sea…with Kurt Tanner gazing down at her.
“Why are you so surprised? I know of no man who could have resisted such a beautiful sight as you lying here, waiting to be kissed.”
“But not by you!” she told him vehemently. “Why did you follow me here?”
Kurt hoisted himself up beside her on the rock. “We didn’t finish our conversation.”
“Oh, yes, we did. And tomorrow, we finish any business between us, and then I never want to see you again.”
She started to slide off the rock, but he held her back. She looked at him warily.
“I don’t want you to be angry, Kit. I find you very, very desirable. I’d like for us to forget all this business about the Hispano and start over again, be friends.”
“Why?”
“Because”—he smiled roguishly—“I can think of so many other things we could do…together.” He kissed her hard, hungrily, his tongue touching hers.
Kit was furious with him for his brashness, and with herself for responding, for there was no denying the liquid fire moving through her veins. She wanted desperately to let herself melt against him, to allow her dream to come alive.
He pressed her gently back upon the rock, his hand moving over her breasts, stroking her lightly. “So lovely,” he murmured. “I want to touch you, kiss you…all over…”
Kit was waging an internal battle. Her brain commanded her to resist, to deny the longing in her heart, but her body refused to obey, wanting more… Never had she felt so drawn to a man.
He devoured her with his eyes and lips and fingers, and despite her turmoil, Kit’s hands began to caress him, exploring the wonders of his magnificent body. His tongue moved down her throat as he nimbly unbuttoned her shirt, and her breasts became vulnerable to the hungry warmth of his mouth. She moaned deep in her throat and clutched him tightly against her. He used his knee to gently spread her thighs, and she could feel his hardness against her.
He raised his head to gaze down at her, hunger evident in his eyes. “I want you, Kit, more than I’ve ever wanted a woman before…”
He paused, then continued in a low voice, “But I want more than your body, Kit. I want you…your friendship, for a start. I want us to stop fighting. Forget the silly wager. I’m going to settle things by giving you the Hispano’s firstborn.”
Kit came back to earth with a crash. “What…what did you say?” she gasped, pushing him away and sitting up.
Kurt repeated his offer quietly.
“Don’t patronize me!” Kit hissed. “We made a pact—how dare you try to seduce me into backing out? Who do you think you are, that you can trifle with me this way?”
Kurt cursed himself for ruining the tender moment, his own anger rising. “I made you a generous offer, Kit. I don’t have to offer you anything. That horse is mine, and you know it. It’s you who’ve been trifling with me, and I damn well don’t appreciate it. As for my supposed attempt to seduce you, I was pretty sure that we wanted each other. If calling it seduction lets you save your honor, suit yourself. I’ve been accused of much worse,” he added with a brittle laugh.
“I can believe that!” Kit scrambled to her feet and straightened her shirt, informing him hotly, “I’ll see you tomorrow in the bullpen. After I’ve won the wager, don’t ever come near me again!”
Without another word, Kurt mounted his horse and rode into the night, breathing hard with anger. He’d known plenty of women, in many ways, but never one like Kit Coltrane. She was fire and ice, and passion and beauty. He knew that if he ever decided to give another woman a chance, she’d be the one for him.
Kurt smiled to himself. She wanted that horse because she was used to getting anything she wanted.
Well, so was he.
So when she got in over her head and made a fool of herself, he’d be ready to console her.
She wanted the horse.
He wanted her.
Maybe they could do some trading in private.
Chapter Ten
“Señorita…Kit…wake up…”
Kit opened heavy eyelids and blinked against the sudden burst of sunlight as Carasia opened the drapes.
“You must wake up. There is big trouble!” Carasia’s black eyes were round with fear. “Your mother sent me to tell you to dress and go downstairs at once. Señora Esteban arrived perhaps a half hour ago and—”
“Oh, no…” Kit groaned, covering her face with her hands and falling back on the pillows. She was beginning to understand. “Go on.”
“Señora Esteban demanded to see your mother. I took her in, but then I listened at the door because I knew Señorita Anaya’s mother coming so early the day after her birthday party was not good.”
“How right you are,” Kit had to agree.
“Well,” Carasia rushed to continue, “Señora Esteban was crying. She said you ruined Anaya’s party, that you caused some trouble between her daughter and her escort. Anaya locked herself in the bathroom and would not come out. She said she was too humiliated to face her guests because you had said terrible things to her that everyone heard, and you had tried to take her man away.”
Kit was incredulous. “That’s a lie!”
Carasia shrugged. “The guests finally left, and only then could her parents persuade her to come out. So now,” Carasia finished with a sigh, “the Señora has come to demand an apology from you and your family. I do not think I have ever seen Señora Jade so furious.”
It was already so late! She had no time to waste on this nonsense with Señora Esteban. If she wasn’t at the ring, Kurt would be only too happy to declare her a coward and demand possession of Pegasus. She’d be damned if anything was going to stop her from proving him wrong. Flinging back the satin coverlet, she jumped out of bed and began to dress.
Soon, she stepped out of her dressing alcove wearing trousers, an old jacket, and boots; fitting a gun into her holster as she walked to the door.
Carasia threw up her hands in horror. “If you go downstairs dressed like that, your mother will drop dead!”
“I’m not going downstairs. Give me a few minutes, then say you’ve looked all over the house, but you can’t find me.” She swung open the doors to the terrace, about to climb over the balcony railing and down a nearby tree.
“You are going to be in big, big trouble, Señorita Kit,” Carasia admonished. “Who is this man that Anaya says you tried to take from her?”
“Someone I wouldn’t have if he were the last man alive—Kurt Tanner.” Kit dropped the last few feet to the ground, dusted herself off, then ran toward the stable as fast as her legs would carry her. Damn Anaya and her lies, she cursed silently, and damn Kurt Tanner for all the misery he’s caused. Oh, she couldn’t wait to show him up.
Once on Pegasus and out of sight of her house, she began to relax. It was a beautiful day, all blue and gold, and it was only going to get better—she could just feel it. She leaned forward to give Pegasus a pat, assuring him that in a few hours he’d be legally hers.
Riguero was at the pen when she arrived. He greeted her enthusiastically. “I have just enough men to act as picadors and banderillas—but without the lances and darts, of course,” he assured her with a bro
ad grin.
Kit nodded her approval, then asked, “Did you take my note to Joselito?”
His happy expression became one of deep concern. “Si, I found the old torero at his casa by the sea. He read the note you sent him, and he was very happy. He packed a box for me to bring to you, and he also sent his muleta. I must ask you, señorita”—his eyes narrowed suspiciously—“how far do you plan to take your little joke?”
“Far enough that Señor Tanner will feel like a complete fool,” Kit curtly declared. “Don’t worry, Riguero. I know what I’m doing, and no one will get hurt—not me, not Malo. Just have the men ready to help me if I need it, and everything will be fine.” She turned toward the barn. “I’m going to do the faena—the footwork, the passes.”
Riguero protested frantically, “No, no, not the faena, señorita. It is too dangerous. You could be killed, or we may have to kill the bull. He does not belong to this ranch, and the doctor-vet, he will be furious. He will have our heads for allowing such a thing to happen, and—”
“You musn’t worry. You’ve seen me in the ring before, Riguero, and you know I’m good. Everyone knows I’m good—except the pompous Señor Tanner, and he’ll find that out soon enough.” She grinned, imagining his reaction, then suddenly frowned. “I think you’d better have a couple of vaqueros close by, just in case he gets any ideas about stopping me. I want to make sure he learns something from being so stubborn.” She winked and hurried on her way.
Kurt Tanner was on time. He wanted to get this contest over with and claim his horse.
Riguero greeted him, inviting him to take a seat where some benches had been set up in the shade. “I’ll stand,” he said curtly. “I’ve a feeling this won’t take long. Has the señorita even shown up?”
Riguero nodded happily. Señorita Kit was right. This man needed to be taught a lesson.
Love and Honor: The Coltrane Saga, Book 7 Page 9
