Mexican Fire by Martha Hix Read Free Book Online Page A

her to say, “You’re an Anglo. A Tejano, I have heard! Don’t you have any sympathy for your own kind? Santa Anna massacred every one of the filibusters at the Alamo! Then he went against the tenets of international law, ordering the execution of José Urrea’s prisoners-of-war at Goliad. Don’t you—”
    â€œWhat was he to do, send tea and cookies to his enemies? Roll over and play dead? The Alamo’s commander asked for victory or death. Buck Travis, uh, got his wish. As for Antonio’s supposed misdeeds, Sam Houston and his outnumbered and unrestrained yeomen defeated the mighty Mexican Army at San Jacinto. An eye for an eye . . . and all that malarkey.”
    â€œYou’re a cold, cruel man, Señor Montgomery. The buzzards have flocked together, you and General Santa Anna.”
    â€œAnd you are a woman. A typical woman bemoaning what you don’t understand.”
    How dare he stare at her, blase as he pleased, and turn her heartbreak to mere trivialities? Her fingers clawed, and scratching his eyes out would have been infinitely satisfying. Yet she wouldn’t react in a woman’s fit of anger, not after his accusation. It took plumbing the very depths of her patience to muster an evenly modulated voice.
    â€œThere’s no point in arguing our diverse philosophies or the past. I am interested only in Mexico’s future. Santa Anna must never again enter the presidential palace.”
    â€œSweetheart, you’re putting too much stock in me. Nothing I could do will keep Antonio from his destiny.”
    â€œYes, there is.”
    She began to explain how he could help.
    Reece stood and faced the Gulf of Mexico. A sudden gust of wind plastered his hair and clothing to the moon-limned lines of his frame. Then he began to pace. Over the next few minutes, as she continued her explanations, he frequently glanced at her.
    Finished, she too left her chair. “Can we count on you, Señor Montgomery?”
    He stepped in front of her. “I accept on one condition.”
    Too fast. He agreed too fast, as far as she was concerned. It was just as she’d been warned—Reece Montgomery could be bought. Disappointment filled her, for she would have liked for him to be more the man who helped the beggar girl.
    â€œDon’t you want to know the condition?” he asked.
    â€œI offered you money. What more could you want?”
    â€œYou.”
    Shocked, she stared up at his intense face. After a moment she was both excited and offended. “I’m not part of the bargain.”
    Tilting his head, Reece moved a fingertip to her earlobe. “I don’t want a whore, Alejandra, my darling, I want the pleasue of your company,” he whispered. “I want to be the man you think of first thing in the morning and the last thing at night. I want to be the one who crosses your thoughts at the oddest moments, as you do mine. Let me be the one whose caresses are more welcome than wine or music or riches or . . . anything else.”
    A strange sensation crackled through each of her limbs. It might have been attributed to the feel of his finger on her ear. Or perchance to the sound of his deep and dreamy voice. Mayhap the utterly male scent of him had something to do with the spell she was under. The sight of him—this Tejano, this Nordic, this American, this tall and golden stranger-worked against sense and sensibility. And most certainly against her inhibitions.
    She closed her eyes.
    It would be so easy, just resting a cheek against his shoulder and letting his hands caress and stroke, allowing his lips to . . .
    . . . to do what they were doing to the corner of her mouth.
    â€œI’ll not have that,” she managed to protest.
    â€œYes, you will, my sweet. Yes, you will.”
    His insistence subdued her protests. The fan dropped from her fingers for a second time. His mouth dipped toward the curve of her throat, the faint breeze of his