A Bravo's Honour

He held those bars hard and tight as he kissed her, nuzzling those soft, sweet lips of hers, urging her to open and then sliding his tongue inside the instant her lips parted.

She tasted so good. He drank in her long, hungry sigh, then lifted his head from hers just long enough to slant the kiss the other way. That time, she let him inside without his even having to press his tongue against her lips. She parted for him and he swept those silky, wet inner surfaces.

Her low moan of need and desire had him pressing his hips to her, rubbing his aching hardness against her flat belly.

Too soon, with a low cry, she turned her head away. “No,” she whispered. “No…” Her breath came hot and heavy.

So did his.

Her hair tangled against the stall bars, and her dark lashes were down, silky fans against her smooth cheeks, those eyes closed to him. And she kept her head turned hard away. Luke’s mind got the message, though his body didn’t like it. With slow care, he peeled his hands from around the bars and stepped back from her.

Only then did she turn her head to him and open her eyes. Her lips were redder even than before, plundered by his kiss. And her eyes had storm clouds in them. With stunning grace, she dipped to her knees and grasped the handle of her vet’s bag. She rose again with the same elegance. Luke stepped to the side, clearing her way out of the stable.

“That never happened,” she said flatly. And then she turned and left him there.

Luke watched her go, aching to follow, to grab her and kiss her again.

But he knew she was right. It was asking for trouble to even consider getting something going with a Cabrera. And he wasn’t considering it. He would be steering clear of the tempting Mercy from now on.

“He did not.” Elena’s big brown eyes were shining.

“Oh, yeah. He did.”

“Did you…like it?”

“Chica, don’t ask me that.” It was Thursday night, less than twenty-four hours after Mercy had stitched up Luke Bravo’s gray stallion. Elena was spending the night at Mercy’s little South Side house. They sat on Mercy’s bed, sharing secrets the way they always did, with Mercy’s dog, Orlando, snoozing on his rug in the corner. Mercy was sitting cross-legged behind her sister, brushing Elena’s long, brown hair. So beautiful, her sister’s hair. Softly curling, crackling with life, silky to the touch and shot with strands of red and gold. “I would love to have your hair, Elena…”

Elena reached back and stilled Mercy’s hand. “Who cares about my hair? I want to know if Luke Bravo’s a good kisser.”

Mercy freed her hand from Elena’s grip and continued brushing. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me. I mean it.”

Mercy couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Papi would kill me.”

“Tell me.” Elena scooted out from under Mercy’s touch and turned to face her.

“I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

Elena sucked in a breath of pure sisterly outrage. “What? Of course you should have mentioned it. You should tell me everything. Same as I tell you.”

“I told him no. When I left, I said that it never happened.”

Elena lowered her head and glanced up from under her lashes with a slow grin. “But it did. And you liked it.”

Mercy set the brush on the nightstand. “Yeah. I liked it. I liked it a lot. Way too much. And that’s why it can’t ever happen again.”

Elena scowled. “That’s stupid. You like him. I can see it in your eyes. In the way your face goes all soft when you talk about him.”

“He’s a Bravo. His grandfather stole our land, tore down our home and killed our grandfather. Then he murdered our uncle. And his father caused our father to leave our mother.”

“James Bravo didn’t steal our land. His horse beat grandfather’s horse in a race. James Bravo bet money. And grandfather bet La Joya because he wanted that money and the rancho was all he had by then. And then grandfather died on a Bravo oil rig, working to support his family, since he’d foolishly gambled his home away.”

Mercy had her mouth hanging open by then. “What’s the matter with you? Now you’re defending the Bravos?”

“It’s a stupid feud. We both know it. James Bravo killed Uncle Emilio in self-defense.”

“That’s what the Bravos said. And the Anglo sheriff went along with his lies…”

“And Papi shouldn’t have been such a jerk when Mami took that job with the Bravo company.”

“How can you know that, Elena? You weren’t even born then.”

“I know Papi left Mami until Davis Bravo fired her and made him feel justified again for hating anyone with the last name of Bravo. I love Dad. But he shouldn’t have done that. All she did was get a job. This is America. A woman has rights, too.”

Mercy put her hands against her cheeks, assumed a stunned expression, and teased, “I am shocked, Elena. Shocked.”

“Joke about it all you want. You know I’m right. It’s time to put an end to this feud. Time peace was made. And if you like Luke Bravo, I don’t see why you can’t go out with him.”

Mercy made a low sound of disbelief. “Seriously. It’s a bad idea and it would only make trouble—and I have to say, since you got back from California, you’ve turned into a real hothead.” Elena had recently graduated from UC Berkeley with a major in American history and an education minor. She would take her first teaching job in the fall.

“I do see things differently now,” she said. “I see that Mami’s gotten rich selling houses and condos. And Papi’s doing just fine with Cabrera Construction.” Elena was right. Luz and Javier had started with nothing and built their very own American dream. Even with the housing downturn and the various crises in the mortgage industry, the Cabreras had the reputations and client base to stay afloat in tough times. “They need to put their old prejudices behind them. It’s not like they’re all downtrodden and suffering anymore. The old animosities just hold them back.”

“Maybe so. But they still wouldn’t like it if I went out with Luke. I don’t want to hurt them. I couldn’t stand to do that.”

“If they’re hurt, that’s their choice. They could choose otherwise. And they don’t get to be the deciders on your life. They just don’t. Es su vida. Your life, not theirs. You have to stand up, Mercy mine. Stand up—and I will stand with you.”

Mercy reached out and guided a thick coil of brown hair back over her sister’s slim shoulder. “My sister, the firebrand,” she said fondly.

“And proud of it,” Elena replied, a certain determined gleam in her eyes. Mercy knew that gleam. It meant trouble. She would trust her sister with her very life. But she should never have been so stupid as to tell Elena about kissing Luke—and liking it. “I have an idea,” Elena announced. “And don’t look at me like that. It’s a killer idea. Saturday night. You and me. We’re going to Armadillo Rose. And we are going to dance and do us a few shooters and have a fine time.”

Armadillo Rose was a great local bar in Southtown, a few miles north of where Mercy lived. They had live music on the weekends and the bartenders were all female and expected to be outgoing, willing to jump up and dance on the bar. It was owned and run by Corrine Lonnigan—which was why Elena had that gleam in her eye. Luke’s brother, Matt, was the father of Corrine’s only child. From what Mercy had heard, Matt and Corrine got along great, though they had never married. And Matt’s brothers and sisters were always welcome at Corrine’s bar.

“Oh, no,” said Mercy.

“Oh, yes,” said Elena. “Don’t give me any arguments. We are going.”

“If you have plans to hook me up with Luke, you’re destined for disappointment.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Come on. What’s the chance he shows up there the same night we do? Very small.”

“See? Nothing to worry about, then. We’ll have a good time and you won’t have to make a choice between what you want to do and what Mami and Papi expect of you.”

Luke kept thinking of Mercy.

Of the taste of her soft lips, the smell of her skin. It was damn distracting when he had a horse ranch to run and an estate to manage. More than once in the days right after that night in the barn, he would find himself staring into space when he should have been going over the oil leases or concentrating on the early training of a valuable foal. He checked on Candyman often, watching that stitched-up ear real close. Once or twice, he half-wished that ear would get infected so he would have to call Mercy back before her scheduled visit the following week. A man was in big trouble when he wished his prize stallion ill.

He knew he needed to get her off his mind, needed to get out and get himself some feminine companionship. Someone pretty and sweet and not a Cabrera.

His brother Caleb dropped by Saturday evening. Caleb was a salesman by nature and profession, the top producer at the family company, BravoCorp. He could sell a homeless man a bedroom set. Their dad was always offering him a management position. Caleb didn’t want to manage anything. He thrived on sales. He had a moody Balkan housekeeper named Irina and a new girlfriend every night.

The brothers had dinner together in the main dining room at the long mahogany table that could seat the whole family during holiday celebrations.

“It’s lonely in here with the just the two of us.” Caleb glanced around at the heavy, carved furniture, the three crystal chandeliers dangling from the twelve-foot ceiling and the striped silk wallpaper. “We should have eaten in the kitchen or out in the sunroom.”

Luke shrugged and sipped his wine and ordered the image of a just-kissed Mercy to get the hell out of his head. “It’s fine.”

His brother looked at him sideways. “You seem distracted. Something on your mind?”

“Not a thing.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Then Caleb set down his fork. “It’s too damn quiet. Let’s go out.”

Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. He might meet someone. Get his thoughts off Phineas Brewer’s new associate. “Like where?”

Caleb pushed back his chair and tossed his napkin down beside his half-finished plate. “Who knows? We get in the car and we drive. We see someplace interesting, we stop. We keep our options open. It’s more fun that way.”

Since Bravo Ridge was on the southwestern edge of the Hill Country, they went north first, and found a dance hall in Bandera. They had a couple of beers and danced the two-step with a pair of secretaries down from Austin for the weekend. Luke wasn’t exactly enjoying himself. The girl he danced with was a pretty little blonde wearing too much perfume. The point was to get his mind off Mercy, but instead, he found himself making comparisons. The blonde did not come out ahead.

Around nine-thirty, Caleb tapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s move on.”

Luke tipped his hat to the blonde and followed his brother out. They got back into Caleb’s brand-new black pearl Audi R8 and rolled the windows down as they raced along a couple of twisty ranch roads, finally meeting up with I-10, and heading south toward San Antonio. By the time they got to Southtown, Luke had figured out where his brother was taking him.

Caleb swung into the packed parking lot.

“There.” Luke pointed at a pickup that was just pulling out. Caleb eased into the free space and killed the powerful engine. They could hear the music from the rambling tin-sided building. A big neon armadillo with a red rose tucked behind its ear graced the place of honor over the wide main doors.

Caleb winked at him. “I’m in a mood to kiss Corrine and watch a pretty woman dancin’ on the bar.”

Elena laughed as she slid back into the chair across from Mercy. Her cheeks were flushed and her brown eyes shone. She’d danced just about every dance since they claimed their table an hour before.

Mercy had danced, too, though not as often as her baby sister. And she’d had a Corona and a shot of Cuervo Gold. She had a slight buzz on and she should have been happy. She was out with Elena and the music was good. And there was very little chance Luke Bravo would come strolling through the big double doors.

“You look sad.” Elena flipped a shining coil of hair back over her shoulder and put on an exaggerated frown.

“I’m not,” Mercy lied. “I’m having a great time.” She raised her Corona and took a sip.

Elena’s expression brightened. “Well, cheer up, mi hermana. All your dreams just came true.” Mercy followed the direction of Elena’s gaze.

Luke.

He’d just come in with one of his brothers. Incredible. She’d been so sure she was safe, that he would never show up while she and Elena were there.

She turned back to her sister. Fast. “I don’t believe this is happening.”

“Believe it.” Elena beamed. “And smile. They’re coming this way.”

Caleb nudged Luke in the ribs and leaned close to be heard above the music. “Over there. That’s the Cabrera sisters, I’m sure of it.”

Luke turned his head slowly. Mercy had her back to him. But he could see Elena. And he would have known Mercy, anyway. Anytime. Anywhere. Already, he’d memorized the shape of her shoulders, the exact color and texture of her crow-black hair, which was loose and softly curling down her back.

He should turn around and leave. Now. Just march the hell out of there.

Caleb had other ideas. “We ought to be friendly, don’t you think? I mean, what’s the point of all that old animosity? Let’s go say hi to them.”

“What the hell for?” Luke growled. But Caleb already had hold of his arm and was dragging him across the scuffed wood plank floor. Luke dug in his heels. “What we ought to do is leave them alone.”

Caleb hesitated. “I just want to say hello.”

“Forget it. Let’s get a drink, say hi to Corrine.”

“You can relax.” Elena’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “They went over to the bar, after all.”

Relax? Impossible. Mercy’s heart beat so hard, she felt faintly sick. She wanted to leave. And she also wanted to get up and go to him, to pull his mouth down on hers and stick her tongue down his throat. It was embarrassing to feel like this. Like she had no control of herself, like she was an animal driven by the most basic urges. Mercy loved animals. She’d dedicated her working life to them. But she didn’t want to behave like one.

“Care to dance?” A nice-looking guy in cargoes and a crew-neck shirt stood by the table, smiling down at her.

“Sure.” Mercy put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. As he led her toward the wide cleared space, she glanced back to see that another guy was leading Elena onto the floor.

It was a line dance. Mercy knew the steps well enough to keep up. More than once, she and Elena passed each other as the lines separated and reformed. Elena would brush her shoulder or nudge her with an elbow and then toss her head in the direction of the long bar, where Luke sat facing out, nursing a beer.

Watching.

Mercy was careful never to let her eyes meet his. She focused on the steps of the dance and smiled at her partner and told herself to forget Luke Bravo, to enjoy the music and have a good time.

As the song ended and her partner thanked her for the dance, she couldn’t resist a glance toward the bar. Luke wasn’t there. A girl in a purple camisole and a black miniskirt sat on his stool sipping a frozen pink drink.

Mercy felt ridiculously bereft. Had he left, then? Or was he asking some other girl to dance?

She shouldn’t care. She didn’t care. Another guy caught her hand. “Hey. Dance?”

She forced a smile and the band started up again. A two-step. Her partner held her lightly. They exchanged names. He said he was in the air force, stationed at Lackland. She told him, half-shouting to be heard over the music, that she was a large animal vet. He said he had a German shepherd named Duke. He had a feeling Duke would be getting sick real soon…

She laughed and explained that she mostly cared for livestock.

“Well, then, I guess I need to buy me a cow.”

When that dance ended, he asked for another. He seemed nice enough, but she had a hunch he would be asking her out next. Maybe that would have been good—to go out with a nice guy, maybe get something going.

But it didn’t seem right somehow. She wasn’t really interested. She’d only be using him in an attempt to forget about Luke.

So she shook her head and went back to the table where Elena waited with a couple of fresh beers. She slid into her seat.

Elena glanced past her shoulder. “Don’t look now, but he’s on his way over here.”

Mercy frowned. “The guy I was just dancing with?”

“No. Luke.”

Mercy’s heart leapt, but she spoke calmly. “You said that before. Didn’t happen.” She picked up her beer and took a long, cool sip.

“It’s happening this time.”

Mercy 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 where his hat still waited, right there in the foyer. He thought about sitting her down and asking her to talk to him, to tell him everything about her. What she loved. What she hated. Her favorite color. Whether or not she liked broccoli. Why she’d decided to become a vet.

“It’s not about the bill,” he said quietly. “You know that.”

“Luke.” Her voice had gentled. “I really need to go.”

“Do you like broccoli?”

She blinked. Twice. “Excuse me?”

It came to him then. What to do. How to approach this. “One date. That’s all. We’ll go somewhere nobody knows us. We’ll…talk.”