Free San Antonio Rose (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon Page B

it is your wish, I will send her
away."
    "No. I do not want to be with you when you
have been with someone else."
    Anger flashed in his eyes, but then he relented as he always had with her. "You are a
difficult woman to win. Ours will be a relationship that will last until one of us is dead. You
are not like any of the others."
    "Have you said this to the woman who sleeps
in your tent tonight?"
    "No, I have not." He smiled. "Our time will
come soon, Emerada. I weary of waiting for
you to make up your mind."

    She moved toward her bed. "It is my hope
that you will not have to wait much longer."
    "You must rest," he said kindly, pressing a
kiss on her lips and laughing when she pulled
away. "I am grateful for your help in unmasking the Ravens Claw." Again he lowered his
head and kissed her. "Take me to your dreams
with you."
    "You should make certain that Houston
hears of his favorite's plight," she said smugly.
That was the only way she had at the moment
to let the general know about Ian's capture.
    "I would have been in despair if he had taken
you away from me." His gaze swept her body.
"I will soon dispose of that rebellious rabble
who have set themselves against me. When this
is over, you will accompany me to back to Mexico City."
    She avoided looking into his eyes lest he see
the hatred she felt for him reflected there. "You
do me great honor." Had she sounded convincing? she wondered.
    Apparently she had, because he smiled and
left.

     

Ian's arms and legs were bound behind him,
and he was damned uncomfortable. He yanked
against the ropes, but that only made them cut
into his flesh. What had he gotten himself into
this time?
    Here he was lying facedown on the hard
ground in an enemy camp. He would have preferred the firing squad to this humiliation.
Many times over the last few hours he'd cursed
the day he had heard of Emerada. She had
been as ruthless as any man when she betrayed
him to her lover.
    It made him angry as hell that she would get
away with this betrayal. Now, if he died, which
he surely would, the dancer would go on feed ing Houston false information, while reporting
Houston's movements to Santa Anna.

    He tugged at the ropes again. He had to escape so he could warn Houston. He glanced
about him, watching the activity as the Mexicans broke camp. Tents were disassembled and
loaded onto two-wheeled carts. He watched
two soldiers hitching horses to cannon. The
Texans were no threat to the might of this
army.
    Ian yanked on his ropes, no longer feeling the
pain when they cut into him. He was supposed
to get to San Antonio ahead of Santa Anna. Now
he would arrive with the dictator, if he survived.
He had walked into a situation that a child
would have known to avoid. If he hadn't tried to
capture the dancer, he'd now be on his way to
settle the squabble between Travis and Bowie.
    He'd overheard two soldiers talking, and
they knew that Travis and Bowie were holed up
in the Spanish mission. They had called the
mission the Alamo. Dammit, how many men
did Travis have, a hundred, two hundred, or
less maybe?
    "Damn," he swore aloud. They would all be
slaughtered.
    Later in the morning, the ropes were removed from Ian's legs, and he was tossed in a
cart and tied to the rails. As the cart bumped
along, his anger grew. What would Houston
think of him if he could see him now?

    A cloud of dust made him cough, and he
glanced up to see Santa Anna riding by, surrounded by his usual entourage. A few moments later, Emerada rode by, and he couldn't
resist the urge to call out to her.
    "How's the dancer?"
    Emerada slowed her mount to keep pace
with the cart. She saw that Ian's lip was cut,
and there was dried blood on his face. Her
heart wrenched to see that he'd been treated so
cruelly, but at least he was still alive.
    She knew he would not welcome her pity, so
she hid it from him. "The dancer is fine, senor.
I wonder if you know how fortunate you are?
No American