the table.
Jake sat back down with a thump.
“You gonna let that stop you?” Crockett said, barely keeping the smirk from his face.
“Just a setback. She’s playing hard to get.”
Travis leaned forward. “What you don’t seem to get, is that she’s way out of your class.”
“Nothing with skirts is out of my class. But I am choosy.” He’d give her a few minutes, lull her back into thinking she’d get her way and that he’d given up.
“Thought you were heading out in the morning. Why are you interested in dallying with that filly when you’re leaving for San Patricio?” Crockett asked.
Damned if he knew. Just something about her he couldn’t let go. She lowered her fan slightly and he noticed a flush to her cheeks as another glance darted in his direction. Maybe she wasn’t as immune to him as he’d thought. “My horse could use one more day to rest.”
“You try the turpentine like Doc Pollard said?”
He nodded, turning his attention back to Travis. “Too early to tell if it’s helping. Well, gentlemen, I’d like to stay and discuss things, but a challenge waits.”
He raised his glass of whiskey. “To Washington—his great deeds, those remembered and those that aren’t.” He tossed the drink to the back of his throat, his courage bolstered by the liquid fire.
Half the room must have heard him. They all joined in with a hail of some kind. Then another man called out, “To freedom for Texas!” Tejanos and Texians alike raised their mugs. The band began a lively tune in the middle of the ruckus.
“Now you’ve started it,” Crockett said with a grin.
The sound was deafening. Jake rose, dropped a couple coins on the table to pay for his drinks and headed over to the señorita’s table.
As he approached, annoyance flitted across her face, quickly covered by a polite facade. Most women welcomed his interruption. This was a new experience—a diverting one, if nothing should come of it. When he stopped in front of her, she seemed reluctant to make the introductions to her cousin and the other man, Diego. However, they both stood and shook hands with him, remembering him from Travis’s office.
“You know my cousin, Señor Dumont?” Juan asked.
“We met yesterday. I spoke with her outside the hospital.”
Juan turned to the woman for an explanation. “You did not mention this.”
“There was no need. It was nothing.”
Jake raised his brows. “Nothing isn’t exactly how I’d put it, Señorita Torrez. You nearly scalded me!” He caught Juan’s eye. “And I won’t be explaining where!”
Juan frowned and turned to her. “Victoria? Explain yourself.”
Jake hid a quick smile. At least he’d learned her first name now, even though it had earned him a killer glare.
“Señor Dumont was kind enough to help shoo away a mongrel intent on the soup I carried to the hospital. I thanked him at the time. I did not expect to see him again.”
“Soup?”
“For the injured men. Your cook asked me to take it. She could then get an earlier start to her home.”
“It seems I owe you thanks,” Juan said with all the finesse of a gentleman.
He did not invite Jake sit down with them. That being the situation, Jake charged ahead. “Instead of your gratitude, I’d rather have your permission to dance with the lady.”
Juan raised his brows, and Jake could see him preparing a refusal.
“You don’t need to worry about my intentions, Captain Seguín. I have none. I’m leaving the day after tomorrow as soon as my horse heals up. Just one dance—in honor of the occasion.”
Her lips twitched at his last comment.
Encouraged by the reaction, he said again, “One dance. After all, it is a party.”
“I am not swayed by this Washington celebration,” she said. “I think you Anglos use it as an excuse to drink. However, if my cousin will allow it, I will consent to one dance.”
More surprised by her acquiescence than he’d admit, Jake waited for Seguín’s response. Finally the man nodded.
Diego frowned, rising to his feet. “You do not need to do this, Victoria.”
“It is only one dance,” she said as she stood. “And he was kind to help me yesterday. I probably would have dropped the soup and burnt myself if not for his quick action.”
Jake shot a triumphant smile at her two body-guards and then followed her to the small open area used for dancing, his gaze on the seductive swaying of her gown. When she turned to face him, he looked into eyes the color of dark mahogany, fringed with long coal-black lashes and wondered at his good fortune—or perhaps her lack thereof. He raised his hand for her to take. “Bad pennies or pezos in this case.”
With an elegant movement, she drew up the side of her skirt and then slowly placed her other hand in his. “No entiendo. I do not understand.”
Despite her cool, smooth touch, he felt warmth rush up his arm. “They do turn up.”
At his words, Victoria pressed her lips together. No matter her grimace, Jake found her tantalizing. At her best, she must be about five foot two, he figured. The top of her head reached his shoulder. She held herself in rigid control as she followed his lead, and still she was the most graceful thing on the dance floor.
“Relax, Victoria. Unlike the dog earlier today, I won’t bite.”
She scowled. “You use my given name freely.”
“It’s a beautiful name—like you.”
That earned him another frown. Was she really so used to men who took a year to say hello? Well, he wouldn’t change to suit her. He didn’t have the inclination or the time. “I take it the dog hasn’t bothered you again?”
“No, señor. After you handled the situation, it gave up completely.”
He smiled. “I have that influence at times.”
She caught the innuendo and gave him a slow, assessing look. “You are a very confident man.”
“Persistent, too. I don’t take no for an answer, but a challenge.” He swirled her around the small floor, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. She followed his lead effortlessly, her eyes taking on a shine. She was enjoying this, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
“An answer to what question?”
He stared at her full lips. “Why, what every man here is wondering as they watch us dance.”
She raised a dainty, perfectly arched brow.
“Will the lady allow him a kiss?”
Her lips pressed together again, this time stifling a smile that threatened.
He knew he was being forward—cavalier by any woman’s definition, but his mood had lifted considerably when she’d consented to the waltz. After all, it was all about the chase, and she seemed to be enjoying it. With effort he dragged his gaze away from her lips and focused on her eyes.
“With you, I think the answer I seek—” he leaned close, close enough to be tickled by a few wisps of her hair, and whispered into her ear “—is a yes.”
She stiffened slightly within his arms.
“I’ll take care of that later, darlin’.”
“You are too bold, señor. Perhaps I would consider a kiss if you could ask for it