glanced over. And there he was. Impossibly tall and too handsome for words, standing right by her table.
Elena beamed a big smile at him. “Luke Bravo. How you doing?”
Mercy faced forward, staring blindly in front of her as he and her baby sister exchanged inane pleasantries. She picked up her beer again and took another sip. A long one.
That was when Luke said, “Mercy, how ’bout a dance?”
Yes, she had expected that. Still, she almost choked on her beer. With great care, she set the bottle down and swallowed. Elena grinned at her, triumph and challenge lighting her eyes.
Mercy’s pulse raced and her face felt flushed. But really, she was making way too much of this. What could it hurt? It was only a dance.
She turned and laid her hand in Luke’s.
Wouldn’t you know it would be a rare slow one? Luke took her in his arms, careful of her as if she were fine china, delicate and breakable. Strangely, at that moment, she felt as if she might break, brittle and confused—and still, even though he held her lightly and not too close, terribly aroused by his nearness.
Her lips tingled. They longed to feel his kiss. And her cheeks felt so hot, burning, as if with fever.
He said, “I swear, I didn’t plan this.”
She realized she’d been avoiding looking at him and made herself meet those sky-blue eyes, accepting the shock of heat that went through her as their gazes connected. “It’s okay. Really.”
“Only a dance, right?” His words echoed her thoughts. Was he trying to convince himself, too, that a dance was all this was?
She made a small, nervous noise of agreement and glanced away. Elena danced by, in Caleb’s arms. Mercy gaped in shock and Elena beamed her a big, wide smile.
Was it just her imagination, or was the world as she’d known it spinning fast out of control?
Only a dance, she reminded herself silently. She closed her eyes and let the music take her, let herself enjoy this forbidden moment, with Luke’s arms holding her in that special, cherishing way, with the warmth of him and the scent of his aftershave tempting her, with his cheek against her hair.
It was over too soon. He stepped back and his mouth quirked in a beautiful, rueful smile that pierced her straight to the heart.
“I know,” he said softly. “This dance never happened.”
“You’ve got a thing for Mercedes Cabrera,” Caleb said with a low chuckle as he drove them back to Bravo Ridge.
Luke stared out the windshield at the dark ribbon of highway in front of them. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I saw the way you looked at her—the way she looked at you…” He made a sizzling sound through his teeth. “Hot enough to melt steel.”
“Mind your own business, little brother.”
“You going out with her?”
“Hell, no.”
“Why not?”
“Don’t pretend to be naive. We both know you’re anything but.”
Caleb drove in silence for a while. Luke almost dared to hope the topic was dropped. It wasn’t.
“The feud is ancient history,” Caleb said. “What’s it to us? We’re a whole new generation. We ought to try and get beyond the old garbage. You know, heal the breach. It’s been years since—”
“Tell all that to Javier Cabrera.”
“If I wanted to go out with Mercy, I wouldn’t let anything stop me.” Caleb fiddled with the radio, turning it up, listening for a moment, turning it down again. Finally, he said way too casually, “Elena grew up to be gorgeous, didn’t she?”
Luke did look at him then. “You’re not serious.”
“She’s cute and fun. And smart. And I like her.”
“Don’t do it, Caleb. I mean it. Why take the chance of stirring up trouble? It’s not worth it.”
Caleb sent him a puzzled glance. And then he shrugged. “All right. If it bothers you that much, I won’t ask Elena out.”
“Good. Don’t. Leave it alone.”
Wednesday at four, Mercy showed up at the ranch. She drove straight to the stables, as Luke had figured she would.
He was there when she arrived. He’d been hanging around the horses all day, telling himself it was a good idea to be there, that it didn’t hurt to spend some time with the men now and then, to see how they were handling the mundane daily work.
It was crap, his reasoning. Just an excuse. He knew his men and he had chance enough day-to-day to make sure they were all on top of their work. The real reason he was at the stables all day had shining black hair and eyes to match. He hadn’t known when her rounds would bring her there.
And he wanted to see her.
Since Saturday, he’d tried to stay with his plan to forget about her. It wasn’t working out very well.
He’d started thinking how some things only got more powerful the more you denied them. And that maybe Caleb was right. In the end, the feud had nothing to do with their generation.
Luke saw her drive up. He told Paco to bring Candyman into his stall for her. “And ask her to stop in at the house when she’s done.”
At Paco’s nod, he went out a side door, Lollie at his heels. He moved swiftly across the back lawns to the same service entrance he’d used that night a week before. In the house, he sent the dog to her bed in the corner of the kitchen and took the wide central hall to the front foyer, where he lowered himself to one of the carved benches, skimmed off his hat and set it down on the bench cushion beside him.
He waited, feeling like he was about to burst out of his skin, for sixteen minutes. And then, at last, the doorbell rang. He rose and answered.
She had her hair tied back again, like that night last week. Even in the shade of the deep front veranda, it had a shine to it. She carried a purse instead of that black bag. He allowed himself a slow, hungry look, starting at her booted feet and moving up over her long, slim denim-clad legs. She wore a short-sleeved green shirt that buttoned down the front. And her mouth was set in a mutinous line.
“Hey,” he said, stepping back to usher her in just as Zita appeared to answer the door. She saw he had it handled and turned back the way she’d come. He said to Mercy, “Come on in.”
She didn’t budge. “Your horse is doing fine, healing up fast. And I know you have an account at the clinic so we don’t have to discuss the charge. You’ll get a bill, same as always.”
He thought about kissing her again. And more. Not only sex, either. He thought about reaching out, taking her hand, leading her across the threshold and over to the bench
