“Dance, senorita?”
Angel nodded and got to her feet. The last thing she wanted to do was dance, but this way she wouldn’t have to see her father’s anxious eyes and the townspeople’s knowing smirks. The vaquero swept her onto the floor, smiling at her graceful movements. Chase had taught her how to dance, on that night so long ago beneath the diamond stars.
The music played louder and Angel remembered it all. The campfire. The hot endless trail. The waterhole. Then, the Indian attack. She squeezed her eyes shut as she remembered Chase fighting for their lives, giving her a gun and telling her to shoot carefully. It was a nightmare—one she was sure would never end—but end it did, and they both lived to see dawn. She had known that night that if death was to come, she wanted to die with Chase, for without him life had no meaning.
A tear glimmered in her eye and she determinedly brushed it away. She was done with crying. Chase had to find his own way and she had to go on. Everyone assumed that he’d used her sexually, then deserted her as secondhand baggage, but Angel knew better. She’d done this to him, when she’d hidden from her own emotions. And now, he was gone.
Another man asked her to dance, and then another. She stepped to the music, letting the primitive beat take her to forgetfulness. Her eyes closed and her blonde hair rippled down her back. When her eyes re-opened, she was amazed to see a vaquero gesture quickly from the far wall where the French doors led out onto a balcony.
Excusing herself, Angel slipped through the crowded dance floor and outside. At first, she saw no one. The air was cool and crisp, the moonlight silvering everything. She scanned the bushes, searching for the cowhand, when suddenly a man stepped from behind the curtain.
“Chase!”
“Did you think I’d leave you?” He grinned at her startled expression. “I’ve come to marry you this time, Angel Lord knows you’ve done everything you could to chase me away, but I just can’t live without you. I love you, sweetheart.”
He kissed her, obliterating the pain she felt inside. Angel slipped her arms around his neck and openly gave herself to him. She wanted him. It was as simple as that.
His lips slowly left hers and his eyes searched her face. “Is that a yes? I haven’t much, Angel, but someday, I will. And we can’t live here—these people haven’t forgiven me for not slaughtering those Indians. But I have to live my own life. Can you do that with me?”
Angel smiled. She belonged to Chase as surely as dawn followed night And she’d never let him go again. “Yes, Chase,” she whispered “Yes.”
Table of Contents
Title page
Copyright page
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Wild Is the Night Page 33
