by Amii Lorin
His eyes grew bright with the now-familiar devilish sheen. “In more ways than one.”
Her eyes narrowed. The beast. He was doing it again, teasing her, tormenting her, making her aware of him, making her want him. Selena didn’t know whether to laugh or throw her coffee cup at him. She did neither. Instead, she punished him with a historical recitation.
“Robert E. Lee was staying here when he was called back to Washington because tensions were heating up between the North and the South.”
4 ‘You mean like things are heating up right now between you and me?”
“Luke!” Selena moaned, but plowed ahead. “Ulysses S. Grant also stayed at the Menger when he was in San Antonio, but he was not the only president to stay here. Taft, McKinley, Eisenhower and Nixon were guests here. The poet Sidney Lanier lived here for many years. You can book a room and request sleeping in a bed used by Oscar Wilde, Sarah Bernhardt, O. Henry, Lily Langtry, and many more.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Bored?”
“Never.”
Leaning across the table, closer to him, Selena whispered, “Did you know the place is haunted?”
“No, I didn’t know,” Luke admitted, smiling at the waitress, who made no pretense of not listening as she served their food. “But I have a feeling I will before lunch is finished.”
“A chambermaid by name of Sallie White was murdered here,” Selena confided softly. “The murderer’s identity remains unknown.” She glanced to the left, then to the right and lowered her voice to a dramatic murmur. “They say that people with psychic powers have seen and heard poor Sallie walking the upper hallways.”
“They?” Luke looked amused, and skeptical.
“It’s true, señor,” the waitress assured him, crossing herself. “I never go up there.”
Calmly spooning soup into his mouth, Luke managed to contain himself until the waitress disappeared into the kitchen, then he fell apart. “Selena, you’re priceless,” he said between gasps for breath. “And you were also correct”
“Oh, how so?”
“I would have to agree that this cheese soup might be worth dying for,” he said. “But I want to live to savor more satisfying lively moments with you.”
Chapter Eight
“Jameson organized a nice piece of work on these fortifications,” Luke said. His intent gaze studied the comprehensive model of the Alamo as it had appeared before the famous battle, displayed inside the souvenir shop.
“He did?” Selena asked, moving closer to inspect the model. Although she had been to the Alamo before, she had always given the gift shop a miss, content to soak up the tranquil atmosphere inside the shrine.
“Umm.” Luke’s murmur underlined his fascination with the model. “Over there—” he pointed to a section running from the mission almost to me main gate “—he had a breach closed on that side. And there—” his hand moved, his finger pointing to the inside of the Alamo itself “—he built a dirt ramp and parapet on the east wall and mounted three cannons at the top of it. And for their prized eighteen pounder, he had a special parapet built in the southwest corner, where it had a commanding view overlooking the entire town. Brilliant” Luke’s voice held professional admiration. “Too bad it wasn’t nearly enough.”
“But it was enough.”
His attention snagged by her soft comment, Luke turned away from the model to stare at her in puzzlement. “What are you talking about?” he asked, taking her by the hand and leading her from the building to the peaceful courtyard. “The fort collapsed under Santa Anna’s attack. All the defenders died.”
“I know.” Her smile serene, Selena led him to a stone bench beneath the shading branches of an old cypress tree. ‘‘But it was still enough, more than enough.”
“In what way? They lost.”
“The mission, yes,” she agreed. “But their deaths were of major significance. Those fortifications enabled the defenders to hold out for thirteen days, giving Sam Houston the precious time he needed to gather an army. And then, inspired by the rallying cry from the Alamo, that army dealt a humiliating blow of defeat to Santa Anna at San Jacinto a mere seven weeks after the Alamo fell.”
Luke was quiet for some seconds, then a crooked smile curved his lips. “You were humoring me in there.” He moved his head to indicate the gift shop. “Weren’t you?”
Selena’s braid bounced on her shoulders as she shook her head in denial. “No. I knew the story of the Alamo,” she explained. “I even knew there had been fortifications made to make the mission more defensible. But I honestly didn’t know what those fortifications consisted of until you pointed them out to me.” Her expression remained serene, but her voice held a taunt. “Now, tell me that you didn’t know the story of how the clarion call of ‘Remember The Alamo’ was the deciding factor in the crushing defeat of Santa Anna.”
“Of course I knew,” Luke admitted, shrugging. “But, inside there, I was referring strictly to the well-thought-out and engineered fortifications.”
“And, with your architect’s eye for detail,” she opined in a dry tone, “you were admiring the skill of Green Jameson, the garrison engineer.”
Luke arched his eyebrows in questioning surprise. “You know that I’m an architect?”
“Of course I know.” Selena’s shrug mirrored his. “It was one of the first things I heard about you.”
His lowered eyebrows met in a frown. “One of the first? What else have you heard?”
“Not much,” she confessed. “Other than that you’re originally from Pennsylvania, divorced, something of a loner and that you’re building a house on a piece of land you bought from Will a mile or so up-river from the place you’re now renting from him—all I heard was that you have gained worldwide respect and fame for your innovative designs.”
“Not much?” Luke shook his head. “I’d say that was quite a bit, and a lot more than I know about you.”
“You had only to ask.”
“And you would have answered?” His expression was skeptical.
“Maybe.” Laughing, Selena stood and held out her hand to him. “But you won’t know unless you try.”
Clasping her hand, Luke rose to tower over her. “I’ll keep that in mind. Where do we go from here?”
“On a short tour of the city,” she replied, yanking his hand to get him moving. “Come along. If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss the open-air trolley bus.”
* * * *
“This, ladies and gentlemen, is King William, San Antonio’s most famous residential neighborhood.” The tour trolley driver paused in his routine to take a breath. Selena seized the moment to insert a comment.
“Since you’re an architect,” she murmured to Luke, indicating the imposing homes that lined the broad street, “I thought this section of town would interest you. It contains a variety of building styles.”
“It does,” Luke said, running an expert glance over two houses designed in the Colonial Revival style. The collection of homes and architecture was eclectic, to say the least, ranging from compact to polychromed Romanesque. “The restoration work is beautiful.”
“Yes, I’ve always loved this—” She broke off as the guide resumed speaking.
“The period of neglect of these historical homes that began in the 1940s has been arrested and...”
Luke tuned the guide out, not because of boredom, but because he had other, more personal and pressing things than houses to think about.
Selena. He wanted her. Again. No, not again, Luke corrected himself, but still. The wanting was constant, and it was beginning to bother him because his desire had expanded to encompass much more than physical release.
The physical need was still there, simmering close to the surface. By itself, that was uncomfortable enough, but now there was an additional factor for him to deal with. He wanted not only to possess Selena—he wanted to know the person inside the tempting package.
Questions about her hammered inside his hea
d, tormenting his mind as unrelentingly as his desire did his body. What made her tick? What motivated her? Why had she chosen such an unusual occupation? And, most tantalizing of all, why had she remained a virgin so long?
Shifting his weight on the hard wooden bench, Luke slanted a casual glance at Selena. She wasn’t paying attention to the tour monologue, either. She was looking at him, her eyes narrowed in speculation.
What was brewing inside that beautiful head of hers? What was she thinking, feeling? Was she as interested in him, the man, as he was in her, the woman? A wave of impatience swept over him. Why in hell was he asking himself these questions? Hadn’t she told him that all he had to do was ask?
“You’re looking very serious,” he observed. “What are you thinking about?”
“You,” Selena replied.
“Oh?” Luke arched his eyebrows. “What about me?”
Selena shrugged. “Just curious.”
A teasing smile tilted his lips as he paraphrased her earlier remark. “You have only to ask.”
“And you’ll answer?” Selena asked, shooting his skeptical response back to him.
Enjoying the play, Luke carried it out to the letter. “Maybe. But you won’t know unless you try.”
Selena gave him a considering look, then nodded. “Okay, here goes. What are you doing in West Texas?
“Living,” Luke said sardonically. “Just living.”
“Or just existing.”
“Whatever.” He shrugged, but she was persistent.
“Burnout?”
“Of a kind.”
She frowned. “Soon after I met you, I decided you had a fierce hate-on for some unfortunate woman.”
“Hate-on?” Luke grinned. “Don’t you mean har—”
“Hate-on,” she repeated, cutting him off. Taking a quick look around to see if they were being overheard, she lowered her voice and observed, “I don’t think a crowded tour bus is the place for this discussion.”
“Is there a law that says we have to stay on the bus until the end of the tour?” he asked.
Selena made a face. “Of course not.”
“There’s your answer.”
They exited the vehicle at the next scheduled stop. Luke didn’t have the vaguest idea where they were or where they were going, nor did he care. His interest was aroused even more than before by her shrewd, insightful observation. He was content to stroll by her side, waiting for her to continue her analysis of his motives. But, when she did resume speaking, Selena threw him a curve.
“I think we’ll head for La Villita.”
Luke stopped in his tracks. “What?”
“La Villita,” she said. “It’s Spanish for little town, and is the original settlement of old San Antonio.”
“No kidding?” His voice was dry. “And here I thought I had left the tour guide behind on the bus.”
Laughing, Selena drew him aside, out of the way of pedestrian traffic. “You did,” she said, leading him to a bridge spanning the San Antonio River. “This isn’t part of the tour. I have a reason for going to La Villita.”
Taking his familiar stance, Luke leaned on the bridge wall and cocked an eyebrow. “And that is?”
“I need to buy a dress for Brenda and Dave’s wedding,” she explained.
“Ah…yes, the wedding.” His tone was loaded with sarcasm. “How romantic.”
“There it is!” Selena exclaimed.
Startled, Luke looked around, noting the crush of people on the River Walk and in boats. However, he didn’t notice anything unusual. “There what is?” he asked, returning his puzzled gaze to her face.
“That hint of hate I mentioned.” Her expression was tight with disapproval, “I was wrong. You don’t have a hate-on for a particular woman. You hate women in general,” she charged. “Don’t you?”
“No, Selena,” he said without hesitation. “I do not hate women.”
“But you really don’t like them all that much, either,” she retorted. “Do you?”
Luke didn’t appreciate the direction her questions were taking, but since he had given her leave to ask them, he answered candidly. “Except for a few exceptions, no, I don’t like women very much. But I have reason not to.”
“Right.” Pushing away from the wall, Selena strode across the bridge, her back rigid, her head high.
“Selena, wait.” Luke was beside her in two long strides. “You asked, I answered. Did you want me to lie to you?”
She shook her head but wouldn’t look at him. “No, Luke, I didn’t want you to lie.”
Grasping her arm, he brought her to a stop. “So what are you mad about?”
She raised her eyes to his. The shadows within the green depths caused a pang of remorse in Luke’s conscience. “Tm not mad,” she denied in a tone that said she was.
“No?” Luke raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Then why are you running away from me?”
“I’m not running.” Selena’s chin lifted to a proud angle.
“Then where are you going?” he persisted.
“Shopping.” Tossing the long braid over her shoulder with a jerk of her head, Selena took off again.
Cursing himself for ruining the sense of ease and friendship they had been sharing, Luke rammed his hands into his jeans pockets and took off after her.
Except for a few exceptions, Luke did not like women. Terrific. Not being slow on the uptake, Selena hadn’t failed to notice that he hadn’t mentioned any names of the exceptions—notably hers.
The sense of injury she felt was shocking and revealing. Was it possible to become so emotionally involved with a man within a few short hours? Selena slid a side-long look at Luke, felt the bottom fall out of her stomach and knew that it was not only possible, but a certainty. Her feelings were engaged and she needed her head examined.
She had squandered not only her emotions but her time and virginity on a man who, though he self-admittedly didn’t like women, apparently felt no qualms about using them to satisfy his physical urges. She was a fool, Selena told herself, fighting a rush of tears to her eyes. And fools deserved everything they got—good, bad or indifferent.
An old movie title sprang into her rattled mind, forcing Selena to suppress a sob of laughter. The good, the bad, and the indifferent.
The shops in the one square block known as La Villita were packed with Fiesta revelers. Shouldering her way through the throng, Selena made for a shop she had frequented many times before, which offered custom-designed clothing. Luke dogged her heels like a sleuth closing in on a suspect. At the doorway to the shop, she turned to confront him.
“I know stuff like this bores most men,” she said. “And, considering your antipathy for women, I suppose it bores you more than most. I won’t mind if you wait outside.”
Luke heaved a sigh. “I have no antipathy for you, Selena, and you don’t bore me. I’ll go in with you.”
Disgusted with herself for her surge of pleasure upon hearing his response, Selena turned away from him with a muttered, “Suit yourself.” Moving her shoulders in a shrug she hoped conveyed unconcern, she swung open the door.
“I always do.”
The shiver that washed over her owed nothing to the coolness inside the shop and everything to the warmth of Luke’s breath feathering the back of her neck. Ignoring him and his effect on her senses, Selena attempted to escape by making a beeline for a rack of dresses. Telling herself she really couldn’t still detect the spicy scent of his morning aftershave, she began leafing through the dresses.
“What about this?”
Praying for deliverance, Selena turned to see what Luke was referring to. The two-piece outfit he was holding aloft by a hanger brought a soft “Oh” to her lips.
“I like it,” he said, shifting his gaze from the garment to Selena, “And it might even do you justice.”
As much as she hated to admit it, Selena liked the dress, too. Made of crinkly gauze in a delicate shade of pale lilac, the outfit consisted of a full, swishy skirt
with a broad matching sash and a camisole-style blouse with tiny pearl buttons. Both pieces were adorned with small flowers, exquisitely hand-embroidered in jewel-tone hues of emerald, pearlized pink, amethyst, silver and gold.
“Well?” Luke asked. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful.”
He thrust the hanger into her hand. “So try it on.”
Selena absolutely loved the outfit. But even if she hadn’t, she’d have bought it on Luke’s expression alone when she stepped from the changing room to ask his opinion.
“God!” he exclaimed in a tone of awe, sweeping a glance from the hem of the skirt at her ankles, to the deep plunge where the neckline revealed the soft swell of her breasts, “You look ripe for ravishment”
“Dream on,” she drawled, inwardly despairing of the flutter of excitement his remark sent rocketing through her. Head held regally, Selena swept into the changing room. Luke’s laughter joined her there.
Nevertheless, she bought the outfit, silently vowing to slug him if he made another sexist comment about her or it. After waiting in line for what seemed hours to pay for her purchase, Selena fully expected Luke to suggest that they find something else to do. Instead, he confounded her by requesting her assistance.
“Okay, I helped you with your shopping. Now you can help me with mine.”
Selena didn’t try to hide her surprise. “You want to buy something to wear for the wedding?”
Luke gave her a droll look. “Hardly. I want to buy souvenirs for my brother and his family.”
“You have a brother?” She wasn’t sure exactly why the information surprised her.
His expression turned wry. “Yes, I have a brother. And, though I realize that at this point you probably regard me as an unfeeling monster, Selena, believe it or don’t, I even had a mother and father.”
“Had?”
“They’re both gone.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” Luke sighed, then smiled. “So, will you help me? I need a woman’s advice.”
