simmering sensuality.
Like the touch of her fingers upon his arm. Like the scent of roses that
seemed to fill him and make him mindless of what else went on.
Jamie saw Jon Red Feather coming toward them, and he swore softly
beneath his breath. Normally the darned half breed was as silent as the
night. Suddenly these days he was expounding away with his Oxford
eloquence.
"Miss. Stuart! Jamie. Ah, you've made it at last. Miss. Stuart, please
don't think me too bold--Jamie! I dare demand the first dance!"
"Jon" -- he began in protest.
"Jon! Good evening!"
The delight in Tess's voice was so obvious that Jamie wanted to spit.
If the two of them were so damned all-fired eager to be together, Jon
should have escorted her tonight. It wouldn't have made the least bit of
difference to him.
The hell it wouldn't. She was his.
He'd found her, he'd touched her and he'd brought her back here. It
might be a trap, but he was deep within it now, and there was no
crawling out. Still, he had to he civil. Too bad they weren't out on the
plain. He and Jon could go to it like savage kids. They'd done it
before.
He smiled and bowed with the best of the Southern chivalry he could
remember from the days before the war.
"Jori--Miss. Stuart, please. Just return her in one piece, Jon."
"He's trying to pretend that I take scalps. I don't, you know," Jon
informed her gravely.
Tess smiled again--brilliantly. Everything about her lit up. Smiles for
him, and taunts for me! And still, Miss. Stuart, we are irrevocably
bound, aren't we? "Evenin', James," the colonel addressed him.
"Evenin', sir."
"I see that Miss. Stuart has been whisked away." He nodded toward the
dancers.
"Well, she's lovely. A very welcome addition to our little soiree, eh?"
"Yes, sir."
"Ah! Well, you shall't be lonely long. There's Eliza coming to whisk you
away, I dare say."
Eliza was on her way over. She had stopped to chat at the punch table,
but now, with her fan fluttering against the heat of the night, she was
hurrying around the dancers to greet him.
He hadn't seen her since he'd come back with Tess.
But she knew. She knew that he'd come back with a woman, and she knew
that he was with Tess tonight. He could see it in her velvet dark eyes.
She was smiling, but it seemed that the curve of her lip hid a snarl.
She was still something to behold. Her neck was long and swan like her
hair as dark as ebony, and though she was slender and graceful, a man
could g~t lost for hours in her voluptuous breasts. Her skin was ivory
and flawless, her lips red, her face lovely. Jamie knew she'd had her
mind set on tormenting him for some time. He usually enjoyed her company
because she was such a brazen piece of baggage. He'd seen her break half
a dozen hearts before she'd deter67 mined to stomp on his, but he'd
always managed to hold his distance from her. To take care that he never
spoke a word that sounded like commitment.
He hadn't been able to refuse her constant seduction. He hadn't been her
first lover, and he was sure that he wouldn't be her last.
She was especially seductive this evening, her ink-dark hair caught to
one side of her head and plunging in a black cascade over one shoulder,
her bodice so low-cut as to reveal the endless depths of the valley
between her breasts, her kelly-green gown contrasting beautifully with
the darkness of her hair and the perfect ivory of her complexion.
"Jamie, darling'! Well, you have saved the first dance for me. I've
missed you so!"
In full view of the company she slipped her arms around him, rose on
tiptoe and kissed his lips.
He waited for something to stir inside him. He swore inwardly. It was
Tess.
He was obsessed, and any other touch would leave him cold until he had
quenched that newfound fire. "Eliza, nice to see you," he murmured,
catching her arms and unwinding them from around him. She pouted
prettily, but he barely noticed. He was looking past her, toward the
dance floor where Tess smiled and laughed, swirled and dipped and
whirled in his best friend's arms.
They were striking together, the tall half-breed and the exquisite blond
who looked so delicate but had a will of pure steel. "Dance, yes!" he
muttered, and he swept Eliza into his arms and onto the floor.
"I was afraid that you hadn't missed me!" she told him, her eyes growing
dark.
"What? Of course I missed you," he said.
"You didn't come to see me last night."
"No, I had reports to fill out."
"I waited for you. Very late. Into the night."
"I'm sorry."
I'll wait again."
It was promising. Maybe he could close his eyes and imagine that he held
Tess's sun-honey blond hess
No. It wouldn't be fair.
He smiled.
"Eliza, I brought Miss. Stuart to the dance."
"Miss. Stuart?
Oh, yes! I heard about her! The zany woman who thinks white men are
Comanche." She shuddered.
"Honestly, Jamie, I understand how you might feel responsible, but just
walk her home and then come on over."
"Can't, Eliza. Not tonight."
She looked furious for a moment, as if she was about to argue. But she
fell silent, pressing closer to him. The musky scent she was wearing
rose around him. He felt the pressure of her breasts, the flash of a
thigh. She wanted to excite him.
"I'm glad to find you so understanding, Eliza," he said pleasantly.
"Of course. I'm always understanding," she told him gravely, sweetly.
Like hell, he thought. But he smiled. Jon was no longer dancing with
Tess.
She'd already danced with half the men in the regiment, Jamie thought
irritably. She was in the arms of a young sergeant now, a handsome
towhead stripling! A kid who probably hadn't even shaved yet. And he was
gushing all over her.
Just about to trip over his own darned tongue. Jon reclaimed her.
Jamie gritted his teeth, determined to watch his date for the evening no
more. He had no way of knowing that Tess Stuart was watching him every
bit as covertly. Those strange stirrings rose inside her as she watched
the ebony-haired enchantress laughing, pressing against him, heaving her
bovine breasts beneath his nose. She was very anxious to be retrieved by
Jon, and managed to dance her way over to the tall Sioux.
He promptly cut in and swept her around, smiling like the devil's own
disciple.
"Mr. Red Feather?"
"yes?"
"Who is the massive mount of mammary glands?" He laughexl and bent low
to whisper against her ear.
"That, Miss. Stuart, is Eliza."
He lifted his head again and smiled benignly toward Jamie.
"Keep an eye on that one," he warned Tess.
"I certainly intend to," she told him sweetly, then she tossed her hair
and laughed, and the sound of her voice was like a melody on the air.
And every man in the place seemed to turn to her. Including Jamie
Slater.
Chapter Four.
Tess didn't see how or when Jamie extricated himself from Miss. Eliza,
but within a few minutes, he was tapping on Jon's shoulder, claiming her
for a dance. She smiled serenely as they moved to the music. Hemust have
attended many of these little balls. He was as accomplished at dancing
as he was with riding and shooting. She felt suddenly as if she walked
on air herself, as if the room and the people all around them faded, as
if they shared more than a simple touch. Maybe they did. His eyes were
boring into hers.
"Enjoying your conquests, Miss. Stuart?"
She widened her eyes.
"Whatever do you mean?"