chances last night. You wanted to stay."

"You wanted to make love."

"I ... yes," she whispered.

"And now you're running. Why?"

"I'm' not!" she protested.

"It's just that" -- "I can't do it, Tess. I can't live with it if you

think you can blow hot and cold in a matter of hours."

"Then what?"

"I'm just trying to give you ... space!"

She lowered her head. She desperately wanted to put her~ shoulder

against his shirt. She breathed in, smelling clean male scent of him,

and she felt a furious pulse flight at her throat, in her heart, in her

veins. He slid fingers into her hair at the sides of her head and lifted

face. He stared, and she tried to return his gaze tering. But then his

hand came to her breast. She muted something softly, then she did lean

against him.

sky seemed dazzling, but not so dazzling as the man. "Tess, Tess!" he

whispered to her, holding her close.

frightening, it's damned terrifying. You're coming so much to me."

His arms were around her. She parted her lips and moistened them with

her tongue again. His parted and moved upon hers, and they melded and

tasted until finally he drew his lips away. Then they sank down together

upon a bed of leaves, with the river just beyond them. Their arms locked

together and they kept kissing, tasting one another, and it ~ ~eemed

that the sound of the rushing water grew louder and louder.

Tess found that she was pressed into the leaves. His hands were upon

her.

She set her palms against his cheek, and desire took flight within her

as she felt the planes and textures , of his face. She thought

confusedly that she loved the way he looked with his smoke-dark eyes and

sandy, disheveled hair, with the rough touch and the rugged angles and

lines of his face, the twist of his jaw. She wrapped her arms around

him, sliding her fingers through the hair at his nape, drawing him to

her for another kiss. The earth beneath her began to heat. She ran her

fingers over the opening of his ~ahirt. She felt the ripple of muscle

with her fingertips. She teased at his buttons until his shirt opened,

until she could reach her hands inside and slide her nails over his

naked ~t~h and feel the trembling that she evoked.

him groan and she felt his touch upon the tiny of her dress, then she

felt herself being freed from Her slip and her chemise remained, but

they were the feel of his searing kiss upon her body and Soon her slip

was wound beneath her, and she felt earth with her bare flesh. His hard

and driving man teased her for a split second, then drove within her a

startling, shattering thrust that swept her breath The sun was above

him. She heard curious cries, then re- they came from her and that she

was clinging to arching, writhing. meeting him, welcoming him, him. She

felt the slap of his body against hers, and earthy and real. She felt

the sun upon his naked flesh, and that, too, was real. And she felt

more. the certain heat, the glow of the sun, which heightened every

swift pleasure, a touch of the blue, cloudy sky. She was damp, and so

aware of him within her, and aware of the rising ecstasy inside her

body. Coiling tighter and tighter until she was crying out again, then

gasping in a soft shriek as something came upon her so strong and sweet

and volatile that it rent the whole of her with shivers, while something

like hot nectar seemed to swamp her body. She couldn't move. She could

scarcely breathe, and it seemed that the world went dark before the sun

burst upon her again. And just as it did, he thrust hard within her and

stayed and stared at her, the whole of his face tense and haunting and

taut with passion. Then he exploded within her, and thrust and thrust

again. and lay down beside her, wrapping her in his arms.

The sun was still above them.

"I'm afraid of you," Tess admitted.

He had been flat on the earth. He rose up on an elbow. "What?"

"I'm afraid of caring too much."

He touched her cheek.

"We're all afraid of caring too much ."

"I don't believe you're afraid of anything." He smiled, a crooked,

rueful smile.

"Yes, I am. I'n afraid of losing you right now."

"Right now," she repeated.

"But what ... what about tomorrow, Jamie?

That's what frightens me."

"What do you mean?"

She shook her head. She rolled away from him, rising to her feet,

straightening her slip and dusting bits of leaf and dirt and grass from

it.

She smiled at him, then hurried toward the water.

He must have stripped off the remnants of his for when he came up behind

her, he was stark naked.

placed his hands around her waist and kissed her nape.

177 he whispered in her ear, so softly that she wasn't sure she heard

him.

"Tomorrow? I'm not sure. But I think that I'm falling in love with you,

Tess."

He left her, walking into the river, then ducking beneath the surface

and swimming into the center of it. He rose, let out a cry and shivered.

"It's damned cold for summer!" he called out to her.

Tess stooped and threw water over her face. She watched as Jamie dove

beneath the surface again.

A twig snapped suddenly behind her. She leaped up, spinning around.

There were four of them. The so-called Indians. They were clothed in

bronze paint and breech clouts

"Jamie!"

she whispered.

But of course there was nothing he could do. The men were armed with

bows and arrows, rifles, even a few tomahawks.

They were going to kill her, she thought, and Jamie would never have

time to reach the surface. And it would be her fault, because if she had

talked to him this morning, he would never have brought her here, and he

would never have become so involved with her that he forgot danger.

"Jamie!" she screamed as one of the men lunged toward her. She fought.

She kicked, she scratched, she screamed and struggled, but a second man

came up, grasping her legs, and between them, she was tossed over a

shoulder. She still fought, clawing, screaming, pounding.

Bronze coloring came off in her hands. "Tess!" Jamie was charging, naked

and unarmed, out of the water. She saw his eyes. They met across the

distance and locked with hers; the pain and the horror of the moment was

mirrored between them.

"Tess!" He screamed her name again in a loud, long cry and he was

speeding furiously toward the emthe man carrying Tess began to run with

her. She craned neck, straining to see Jamie. She saw him reaching the

shallows, and she saw him running, running to the shore. He rammed one

of the armed attackers with such violence and force that the man fell.

He spun and kicked his next opponent, then thrust his fists against him

in a fury.

But then Tess saw that another man was behind Jamie as he fought. She

saw the second man raise a battle club and bring it down upon Jamie's

head with all his strength. She heard the cracking sound. And she

screamed as she saw Jamie crumple to the ground, and then she saw no

more, for blackness descended over the sun.

Chapter Nine.

Tess didn't know how much time passed before she regained consciousness.

When she did, she was hanging facedown over the flanks of a sweating

horse in front of the pseudo-Indian who had grabbed her. She was acutely

uncomfortable.

Although the sun was setting, it was still ferociously hot. The sticky,

wet hair of the horse irritated her flesh, and the continual and

monotonous thump-thump- thump of its gait was bringing a ferocious pain

to her head.

Her arms hurt, her back hurt, and her neck burned like blue blazes.

She was a great mass of pain, and at first that was all 'she could think

of.

After a while she remembered. She'd been kidnapped. The bronze paint

worn by the "warrior" behind her was coming off on her flesh and chemise

where the man's thighs and knees rubbed against her.

And Jamie Slater was by the river with his head bashed in. couldn't be

alive. He had fought for her, and he had b~n killed in the attempt.

Scalding tears stung her eyes. She fought back the urge to aloud.

Jamie could perhaps have survived. Maybe just been knocked unconscious.

They had left her for once, and she had survived. Jamie was tough. He

had the war, he had. She had seen the club come against his skull.

Still, she couldn't accept it. She had to believe that he was alive

because if she didn't she wouldn't care if she lived or died.

Maybe there wasn't much chance of her surviving, anyway. Von Heusen

didn't know yet that there was now no way he was going to get his hands

on the Stuart holdings. She wondered briefly about the other Slater

brothers and their wives. Would they come to Wiltshire to accept an

inheritance? When they saw what had been happening, would they pick up

her fight? Why should they? Because they were probably close. Because

Jamie wouldn't have taken the time and the care to see that things were

done the way they were if his brothers weren't willing to fight. To

fight for him. To avenge his death.

No, no, he couldn't be dead. Please! God in heaven! she prayed silently.

Don't let him be dead, don't let him be dead, don't let him' be. "Let's

hold up here!" someone called out.

The horse she was thrown over ceased plodding. A second animal trotted

up beside it. The man spoke again.

"We've come far enough. Even if someone manages to find Slater's body,

they won't be able to track us. Not across the river. And we left plenty

of Comanche arrows behind. She still out, David?"

"Seems to be, Jeremiah."

"Well, that's good. Still, let's stop here for the night. By tomorrow

afternoon we'll meet up with the Comancheros and turn the girl over to

them."

Comancheros? Despite herself Tess felt a sizzle of terror sweep through

her.

They weren't exactly Mexicans, and they weren't exactly Indians; they

were a wild grouping of both who savagely lived off the land. They

raided, pillaged, murdered and raped without thought, and they made much

of their income by selling arms illegally to the Apache.

Von Heusen meant to have his revenge this time. He hadn't planned a

quick, easy death for her. He had consigned her to a living hell.

She couldn't let them give her to the Comancheros. Somehow, she was

going to get the best of these men. And if they had killed Jamie, she

had to see that they were brought to justice.

"Come on, let's get started setting Up a camp for the night," the man

David said. He started to dismount.

"Boy, that did feel good, swinging that club against that bastard

Slater.

After everything he did to us out at the Stuart place the other night, I

just wish I'd had time to gouge out his eyes."

"Or take ' '~" a scajp. Jeremiah suggested with laughter.

"Yeah--or take a scalp."

"Do you think Hubert and Smitty have made it back with the good word for

yon Heusen yet?"

"Probably. I told them to head straight back. Someone will find Slater's

body soon enough. We want to make sure we can't be blamed for it. Come

on, now, let's get her down and tied up before she comes to."

Jeremiah hopped off the horse. The one named David reached for her.

The one whose hands would be forever stained with the blood of Jamie

Slater.

Tess let out a wild scream when those hands touched her. She was ready.

He wanted to gouge out eyes? Her fingers were flying madly for his. She

caught him completely by surprise. He howled like an infant when her

nails swiped his face, missing his eyes but digging deeply into the

flesh of his cheek.

He stumbled, and she tried to right herself upon the horse.

The animal, panicked by the screams, reared high, its forelegs kicking

and flailing. Desperate as she was, Tess couldn't quite gain her

balance. The horse came down on four legs, kicking up great clouds of