The Tiger Lily (23 page)

In
the beginning, numb and unhappy, Sabrina had only listlessly countered Carlos's
amorous advances. As April gave way to May, and May faded into June, she found
herself growing more and more annoyed and ill at ease in his company. She
didn't like the position she was finding herself thrust into more and more. Nor
was she ever really comfortable with repeating to Carlos conversations that she
had either had with Brett or overheard between Brett and her father. There was
something so very sneaky about it.

Carlos's
constant harping on what a fortune hunter Brett was, how they must watch and be
ever alert for his nefarious schemes, also began to wear on her patience. And
to her surprise she began to argue back with him. "Carlos," she had
said firmly, one day in late June when they had met at the gazebo, "you're
wrong about Brett using the sugar cane as a means to get money from my father.
He
isn't getting one peso! Instead, we are gaining a very competent overseer who
has accomplished much during these past weeks—look at how many acres have been
cleared! Look at how swiftly the sugar mill is progressing." An admiring
gleam in the amber-gold eyes, she had murmured softly, "He may have had
dealings with smugglers, but I think he must have put that part of his life
behind him. I've seen nothing and heard of nothing that should alarm us."

An
unbecoming flush staining his cheeks, Carlos had snapped, "Have you
forgotten about the girl? The one he cut up and disfigured in New
Orleans?"

Her
eyes suddenly shadowed, Sabrina had turned away. "No, I haven't
forgotten," she had said slowly. "But people do change. . . ."

His
face had twisted with thwarted fury, and Carlos had raged, "I do not
believe this! This man is a smuggler, a thug, and a bully, a defiler of young
women, and you dare to make excuses for him! Bah! Run along, Sabrina! Run back
to him and let him whisper lies in your ears! Let him work that specious charm
of his on you until you are no more than a fawning bitch running at his heels
like Constanza Morales!"

Nothing
could have been better calculated to bring Sabrina once more under his
influence. Seeing the angry flash of her amber-gold eyes and the determined
slant to her finely molded jaw, Carlos had smiled.

But
while Carlos could poison her mind against Brett and arouse her temper, there
was one thing he could not do. He could not stop her from discussing events
with her father. And there came an afternoon when Sabrina and Alejandro found
themselves alone as they shared a tall glass of lemonade on the patio. They
were" seated at the iron table, relaxing in the cooling depths of the
shadows of the tall pine tree that overhung the patio. It was the first time in
ages that they had spent any time alone together, and each was savoring it. The
conversation was desultory, and then somehow, out of nowhere, the subject of
Brett's days in New Orleans came up. From there it was only moments before the
truth of Brett's activities came out.

Alejandro
stared at Sabrina's stunned face and murmured teasingly, "
Chica
, I
cannot believe that you thought I would harbor a criminal in my house! When the
smuggling was mentioned the night of the fiesta, I naturally assumed that you
and Carlos knew the truth. It never occurred to me that all these weeks you've
been under the impression that I have been in the clutches of a—what did you
call him? A monster?"

Sabrina
sent him an embarrassed smile and nodded her head. Defensively she muttered,
"We had no way of knowing otherwise. Carlos's meeting with him was brief.
How could he have known that Brett was only there to trap his friend's
murderer?"

Alejandro's
voice hardened slightly. "I am surprised at Carlos. Surely he must have
realized that I would never have introduced such a man to my relatives and
friends, let alone allowed him free access to my house?" Shaking his head,
Alejandro finished, "I do not understand Carlos these days. He must know
that his father needs all the help he can get to save the rancho, and yet
Carlos does not appear willing to raise a hand to help him." His face grew
grim. "Instead he spends his time filling my daughter's head with
nonsense!"

Sabrina
hastened to reassure him, and the conversation went on to other topics. She had
not mentioned the girl. Carlos's strictures on the need for complete secrecy
were too deeply embedded in her brain. But with the news of Brett's real
reasons for being in the smuggler's den, her faith in her father was restored,
and if the treatment of the girl in New Orleans had tarnished her image of
Brett, at least she felt easier about him.

The
next day, she ran to meet Carlos with a happy glow in her cheeks, and almost
merrily she blurted out the story to him. As could be expected, Carlos was not
well pleased with the situation.

"And
you believe this tale?" he sneered.

"Why
shouldn't I?" she asked with obvious bewilderment.

"Because,
you little fool," Carlos ground out, "it is apparent that Dangermond
must have concocted this lying story to appease your father. Are you so stupid,
so blind, that you, too, will be tricked?"

Perhaps
if this confrontation had come the day after the shocking news of Brett's
involvement with smugglers, Sabrina might have been swayed by Carlos's words.
But as it was, she'd had time to deal with her hurt and disillusionment, and
her own common sense had reasserted itself. Brett's actions these past months
had not been those of a villain, and while she might concede it was all an act
to lull them into a sense of security before he struck, she doubted it. And she
certainly did not appreciate Carlos's inference that Alejandro was both stupid
and blind! Her face cold, she said icily, "My father is neither stupid nor
blind! Nor, may I add, am I! I think you are the one who is being blind, amigo!
You have nourished a dislike against Brett, with what I will admit appeared
good reason, but now it is you who will not recognize the truth! You want him
to be a smuggler, and because of that you will not listen to the real
story."

Aware
that he had crossed onto dangerous ground and unwilling to destroy the tenuous
thread that existed between them, Carlos quickly capitulated. But it wasn't
quite the same. Now that there was obviously no longer the need to spy on the
men of her household, Sabrina found herself more and more disinclined to meet
so often with Carlos.

If
the rapport between Sabrina and Carlos had lessened, the current of awareness
that flowed between Brett and Sabrina had not. Now that she knew the truth of
his days with the smugglers, Sabrina caught herself once again responding
foolishly to his potent masculinity. She hadn't forgotten what he had done to the
girl in New Orleans, but she couldn't help but wonder if perhaps there wasn't
some explanation for that, too.

Brett
noticed the change in her attitude toward him almost immediately, and he
speculated warily on what had caused it. Where before she had scowled when he
entered her presence and had thrown him a look of scathing dislike, she now
spoke pleasantly and even, upon occasion, smiled at him. Bemused by that sweet
smile, he hadn't been able to resist her shy overtures of friendship. And when
Alejandro had explained the misconception she had been laboring under, Brett
had been astounded at how delighted he was that Sabrina had discovered the
truth and was no longer treating him as if he were a leper.

His
affair with Constanza had been extremely carnal in nature . . . and short-lived
as well. By the time mid-July arrived, that casual liaison had ended amicably.
And whatever satisfaction he may have gained from Constanza's ripe, willing
body had been completely negated by the so very unsatisfactory dreams of a
certain flame-haired young witch that had haunted his sleep all too frequently.
Grimly denying the unwanted attraction he felt for Sabrina, he had thrown
himself into the physically exhausting work of taming the virgin wilderness. He
was not often to be found at the hacienda; he rose at dawn and worked until
twilight fell despite the increasingly hot and humid weather.

After
Sabrina's conversation with Alejandro, the atmosphere at the hacienda lightened
perceptibly. Brett began to stop work earlier and earlier in the afternoons.
Arriving back at the hacienda, he would swim in the lake by the gazebo and then
spend the remainder of the day with Sabrina and Alejandro. They whiled away
long, enjoyable hours in the cool, shaded courtyard, sipping tall, icy
refreshments prepared by the servants. With pleasure and relief, Alejandro
noticed that Sabrina no longer met with Carlos so frequently. Alejandro almost
began to hope that his fondest desire might actually come true—Sabrina had
taken to wearing her prettiest gowns for their afternoons together, and Brett
didn't appear exactly immune to her beauty.

Sabrina's
eighteenth birthday was less than a week away. The hacienda was bustling with
preparations for a grand fiesta. Staring thoughtfully at Brett and Sabrina one
evening as they slowly wandered through the outer grounds of the hacienda,
Alejandro could not help thinking that the night of the birthday fiesta would
be an excellent time to announce their betrothal.

The
swiftness with which this wonderful state of affairs had come about had been
startling to both Brett and Sabrina. They seemed to have put aside their
reservations and were enjoying a rapport that was similar to the one they had
shared years ago—with one very vital difference— Sabrina was no longer a child.
Watching her laughing face as they walked through the forest, he wondered how
he had ever thought that Constanza's opulent charms would overshadow the
powerful attraction that Sabrina held for him. That realization had caused him
to end his relationship with Constanza weeks earlier. In the time that had
followed, as he fell more and more under Sabrina's spell, that brief liaison
faded from his mind. There was only room for Sabrina in his thoughts, and for
the first time in his life, the iron guard around his heart began to slip.

Constanza
was only a faint niggle in the back of Sabrina's mind; she was fairly certain
that he was no longer seeing the other woman. When she glanced at Brett and saw
the warm glint in his eyes as their gazes met, her heart leaped. Surely he
wouldn't look at her like that if he was still seeing Constanza? A bubble of joy
surged through her as she sent him a blinding smile of pure happiness.

Brett
blinked at the sheer charm of that smile and said huskily, "Infant, you
should warn us poor males before you flash that sweet smile—it can have a
devastating effect on the unprepared!"

Sabrina
dimpled and Brett was unable to stop himself from reaching out and gently
caressing her mouth, his finger lingering on her bottom lip. Sabrina nipped him
lightly and Brett smiled, a smile no other woman had ever seen. Softly he said,
"I think you are bewitching me. I find that I am looking forward to these
afternoons together far too much for my liking—if I am not careful, you will
command all of my time."

"Would
that be so very bad?" Sabrina asked breathlessly.

His
smile faded and his gaze wandered over her upturned face. "No," he
said slowly, "no, I don't think it would be at all."

Sabrina
looked away. Shyly she murmured, "I have noticed that you spend more time
at the hacienda ... is there nothing in Nacodgoches that holds your interest
these days?"

Grently
Brett turned her face to his. His expression was tender as he said quietly,
"Nacodgoches has nothing for me—it really never did, only I was too blind
to see it. ..."

But
if the situation at the hacienda had grown better, the situation with Carlos
was deteriorating rapidly. Though Sabrina refused to meet him as often as she
had in the past, she did still see him frequently. But the encounters between
them were uncomfortable and strained. She was unhappily aware that Carlos had
not really changed his opinion of Brett, and there were even times, late at
night, alone in her room, when she wondered if she wasn't allowing herself to be
caught up by Brett's dark charm. Perhaps Carlos was right. . . . No! She didn't
want to believe it! But if she who loved him had doubts, how could she possibly
condemn Carlos for his suspicions?

On
the Monday afternoon before her birthday fiesta on Friday, Sabrina made her way
reluctantly toward the gazebo to meet Carlos. She had made up her mind to tell
Caorlos that there was no longer any need for these secretive assignations.
Somehow, whenever she met with Carlos at the gazebo, she felt as if she were doing
something unsavory.

The
day was hot, and even though she had just donned a gown of cool lavender linen,
by the time she reached the gazebo it was sticking uncomfortably to her back.
Pushing back a strand of the red-gold hair that had a tendency to tumble across
her forehead, she slowly entered the welcoming shade of the gazebo.