Each Time We Love

Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Chapter Twenty-Five

"STOP!"

"I DON'T WANT THIS! I DON'T WANT YOU!"

"Liar," he said softly, his blue eyes nearly black with
desire. A crooked smile curved his full mouth. "This is something we've
both wanted since the first moment we laid eyes on each other. The time
for talking is past."

He kissed her long and fully, his hands sliding caressingly up
and down her back. It was only when she gave a defeated little moan and
put her arms around his neck that he lifted his ravaged mouth from
hers. His breathing was labored as he stared down into her flushed
features, those dark blue eyes roaming over her lovely face.

Sweeping her effortlessly into his arms, he carried her to a
thick patch of soft green grass dappled with shade and laid her down.

"BUSBEE
DELIVERS WHAT YOU READ A ROMANCE FOR"

West
Coast Review of Books

Other Avon Books by
Shirlee Busbee

Deceive Not My
Heart Gypsy Lady Lady Vixen

Midnight
Masquerade The Spanish Rose

The Tiger Lily

While Passion
Sleeps

Whisper to Me
of Love

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EACH TIME WE LOVE is an original publication of Avon Books.
This work has never before appeared in book form. This work is a novel.
Any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

AVON BOOKS

A division of The Hearst Corporation 1350 Avenue of the
Americas New York, New York 10019

Copyright © 1993 by Shirlee Busbee

Published by arrangement with the author

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 92-97288

ISBN: 0-380-75212-3

All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce
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First Avon Books Printing: May 1993

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RA 10 987654321

They
say that all things come to those who wait,
and while I don't know for sure that these dear ones have been waiting
for this, it's high time that they finally got their very own
dedication. And so, this book is affectionately dedicated to the
following:

Our very dear friends and neighbors for nearly thirty years,
Henry and Lillie Thiessen. Yes, Lillie, the horse babies are doing just
fine; and, Henry, Howard is waiting impatiently for you to come up so
he can show his latest junk—er, treasures!

And one of our favorites pairs of in-laws, William and Martha
Busbee. Bill, God still loves you best; and, Marty, keep weaving those
blankets!

And, of course, who else, Howard,
still
the very best friend and husband a woman could have!

False
Fortune

Spanish
Texas, Fall, 1804

Oh,
breathe not his name! let it sleep in the shade,
Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid.

Irish Melodies
Thomas
Moore

THIS HAD NOT BEEN A GOOD TRADING EXPEDITION FOR
Jeremy Childers—his partner was dead, and instead of the riches they'd
planned on reaping this trip, Jeremy's reward for nearly a year's
efforts was one old wind-broken horse. Considering the past few weeks,
Jeremy guessed he was damned lucky to have that!

Giving up any further pretense of sleep on the hard ground, he
scratched for the ever-present fleas and lice; after squashing a
particularly persistent flea between his dirty fingers, he sat up,
cursing the day he had ever crossed the Sabine River into Spanish
Texas. Resentfully he stared at the scarlet dawn beginning to break
over the canyon rim, his moody thoughts on just how
very
bad the scheme to trade with the Indians had been. He should have
listened to Yates and not that fool Haley!

It had seemed such an excellent idea when he and his partner,
Orval Haley, had first discussed it in the winter of 1803. They had
been sitting in a darkened corner in one of the many dens of vice with
which Natchez-under-the-Hill abounded, and both of them had been more
than half drunk. But in the morning, despite their aching heads, the
scheme to slip undetected into Spanish Texas to trade with the Indians
for horses had seemed like a sure way to enhance their meager finances.
And an unexpected stroke of luck had settled the matter: not two nights
later, they had stumbled over a drunken riverboat captain and, not a
pair to overlook opportunity, a swift rifling of the man's pockets had
brought into their possession a tidy sum.