Still, when she looked up at him, she couldn’t help but smile. “You’re surprised I didn’t tell my uncle? I think you’re not in the least surprised. I think you knew very well that I would not turn you in.”
A smooth black brow arched up and a hint of amusement tinged his voice. “How could I possibly know?”
Carly ignored the flutter in the pit of her stomach. “I’m not certain. Perhaps it’s the number of women you’ve known. Perhaps you can tell when your charm has won one of them over.”
He laughed, a mellifluous, softly rough sound. He leaned close enough to whisper in her ear. “So it was my charm that won your promise? Not my fiery kisses?”
A rush of heat rose into her cheeks. “You play the gentleman tonight,” she teased, “but a gentleman would not remind a lady of such a thing. Perhaps it is that Don Ramon and the Spanish Dragon are not so different as you would like people to believe.”
Ramon’s hold subtly tightened and the gold in his eyes seemed to glow. “I assure you, Cara, in most ways we are exactly the same.” She couldn’t mistake that too bold look or the heat that blazed to life in his expression. Just as quickly it was gone. The music ended abruptly and Ramon released his hold on her waist.
“I hope you enjoyed the dance. I assure you that I did. Now it is time I returned you to your friends.”
She forced herself to smile. “Of course,” she said, oddly irritated by his matter-of-factness. “By now, my uncle is certain to have discovered where I am… and Vincent no doubt will be waiting.” She felt a jolt of satisfaction at the scowl that darkened his face. Still, he left her in the company of some of the women and returned to his mother and aunt, standing beside the Montoyas.
Carly waited only a few more minutes, then excused herself and headed off toward the barn. She had promised Vincent she would join him, and she meant to do just that. Especially now that Ramon was dancing with the beautiful widow, Isabel Montoya.
It was dark in the shadows of the big adobe barn but moonlight shimmered in through the open windows, and Vincent had lit a lantern in one of the stalls. The smell of hay and horses drifted faintly on the cool night breeze. In the soft yellow glow of the lamp, dust motes filtered toward the hard-packed dirt floor and insects shuffled into corners.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t come.” He stepped closer as she approached, reaching out for her hand and pulling her toward him. The buckles on his stylish, square-toed shoes gleamed in the lamplight. His white wrapped cravat was tied in a big, puffy bow beneath his chin.
“I can’t stay long,” Carly said. “What is it you wanted to show me?”
He stepped back from the rough board fence that divided two of the stalls, and sitting atop the rail was the most elegant ladies’ sidesaddle Carly had ever seen.
Vincent grinned appealingly. “You mentioned once before that you wanted to learn to ride. In a recent letter to my father, your uncle mentioned you’d begun your lessons. I wanted you to have the proper equipment.”
She kept staring at the saddle. The leather skirt was carved in a delicate floral design, and a beige tapestry, petit-pointed in small pink roses, covered the padded seat. The saddle was exactly her size, smaller than the one she had been riding, which was an old one borrowed from one of their neighbors.
“It’s beautiful, Vincent.” She stepped closer, ran her fingers lovingly over the finely crafted leather. “Magnificent.” She looked into his face, feeling guilty for the thoughts she’d hadabout him, wishing she could care for him the way her uncle wished. Her smile of pleasure faded. “Unfortunately, I can’t accept it.”
Vincent looked crestfallen. “You can’t accept it? Why not, Caralee?”
“Because we aren’t… because it’s too expensive. I couldn’t possibly—”
Vincent drew her against him. “Don’t you understand, Caralee? I want you for my wife. The saddle is only the beginning. I intend to buy you jewels, clothes, everything your heart desires. I’ll make you the talk of San Francisco—the queen of the city.”
Inwardly Carly winced. No mention of love, nothing of feelings he might hold for her. All he ever thought of was money. He wanted her because of the way she looked, the clothes she wore, and the social graces her fancy schooling provided. He didn’t care a thing about the woman she was inside. He didn’t even know her.
“I can’t marry you, Vincent. The truth is I don’t love you. I want to marry a man I love.”
He gripped her shoulders, strands of sandy hair falling over his brow. “I don’t expect you to love me… not in the beginning. Our affection for each other will grow in time. What matters most is that we’re so well suited.”
“We aren’t well suited, Vincent. You’re nothing at all like me. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I can’t accept your gift—and I can’t marry you.”
The warmth slid away from his features, making him look older than he usually did. In the light of the lamp, there was an odd set to his jaw and his lips appeared grayish and thin. “Your uncle said you wouldn’t agree. But the fact is, Caralee, you’re going to be my wife.” He looked so determined for a momentshe wanted to laugh. There was no way she would ever marry Vincent.
“I have to get back to our guests. I’ve been gone too long already.” She turned away from him, but he caught her wrist and dragged her into his arms.
“You can’t leave yet, Caralee.”
“Let go of me, Vincent. My uncle—”
“In time you’ll understand this has happened for the best. Someday you’ll even thank me for it.” A clumsy kiss followed. She tried to break his hold, but his arms were like vises around her. His wet tongue slid across her lips, and a wave of fury broke over her. Damn him! Who the devil did he think he was? She kicked him hard in the shins, eliciting a yelp of pain, but he didn’t let her go. Instead, he covered her mouth with his hand and forced her backward onto a thick pile of straw.
“I’ll try to be gentle,” he said, beginning to fumble with his clothes. “I promise it’ll be better the next time.”
The next time?Rage swept through her. He meant to force her, to take her virginity andmakeher marry him. The length he was willing to go to get his way told her exactly the kind of man he was. She tried to cry for help, but he was stronger than he looked and he pinned her easily with his body.
