San Antonio Rose (Historical Romance) (5 page)

Suddenly two other guitars joined in the riveting melody, and the San Antonio Rose raised
her head, her magnetic gaze moving over the crowd
and drawing gasps from many onlookers.

Emerada moved so gracefully down the
stairs that it appeared she was floating. When
she stepped onto the stage, she arched her delicate arms above her head and clicked the castanets to set a tempo that was immediately
imitated by the three guitarists. Forcefully she
tapped her feet, moved her hips, and captured
her audience in spellbinding ecstasy.

As Emerada tossed her dark hair, her eyes
flashed, and she bewitched every man, making
each feel as if she danced for him alone. She
was luminous and radiant; each movement she
made was calculated to inflame her audience
with passion.

Ian sat hunched in a corner, a large sombrero
concealing the upper part of his face and his
blue eyes. He'd been waiting in the cantina for
hours, mingling with the locals and asking
questions about the San Antonio Rose. No one
seemed suspicious of his motives, and he finally learned that her name was Emerada, although no one could tell him what her last
name was or where she came from.

As Ian had waited for Emerada to appear,
he heard glowing accounts of her talent and
beauty. Now, as he watched her, he was inclined to agree with her admirers. He was as
captivated by the dance's hypnotic allure as
everyone else in the audience. She was beautiful, and she knew just how to use that
beauty to enslave the men who already worshiped her.

Surprisingly, as Ian watched the dancer he
felt a knot of excitement gathering within him.
Emotions boiled, igniting a deeper passion
with each move she made. As much as he
fought against his attraction to her, he was as
affected by the San Antonio Rose as any of the
other poor fools in the room.

Suddenly there was a commotion at the
door-mumbling voices and men pressing forward as Santa Anna himself entered with a
flourish. His officers were shoving aside a knot
of people, clearing a path for the general who
was also president of Mexico.

Ian pressed his body against the wall and positioned his hat at an angle so he could observe
the sudden disruption without drawing attention to himself. Houston could not have known
when he asked Ian to find out about the dancer
that the search would lead him to the Mexican
president-or had he?

His jaw clenched as he glanced back at the
dancer. She must be aware that Santa Anna
had arrived, but she didn't miss a step when he
sat down at the front table after his officers had
roughly expelled the three men who'd occupied
the chairs.

Emerada could feel Santa Anna's eyes on her,
so she began to perform for him alone. She removed her filmy red mantilla and tossed it into
the crowd, where a fight broke out among
those who wanted to possess it.

She tapped her feet and flung her head back
so that her hair flowed about her waist like a
dark, silken curtain. Her arms arched over her
head, and she twirled gracefully. Gathering her
gown, she raised it high enough to show her
ankles, and a roar of approval rippled through
the room. With sensuous movements, Emerada edged closer to Santa Anna, her gaze
locked with his.

She discovered that Santa Anna was a handsome man, but of course he would have to be.
She thought of all the young girls who had succumbed to his charms, much to their regret when he deserted them. She must not forget
that he was greedy, ambitious, unscrupulous,
and a man who could kill without remorse. She
suspected that he could also be very charming-she was depending on that.

The guitarists slowed the melody and played
plaintively. Emerada's hands gracefully moved
to match the tapping of her feet. Then the guitarists fell silent, and Emerada dropped into a
curtsy.

The cheers were deafening, and a tribute of
flowers was thrown onstage. Emerada chose a
single yellow rose and turned to the stairs she
had descended earlier.

She held her breath, wondering if Santa
Anna was going to send someone after her-he
just had to!

"Excuse me, senorita." A voice spoke up behind her. "May I speak to you?"

She turned to find one of Santa Anna's aides
behind her. She bestowed her most haughtiest
stare on him. "I am very weary, senor. And I do
not talk to soldiers."

"Senorita, perdoneme. You misunderstand
my intentions. His Excellency has asked if you
will please join him at his table," the officer
said, graciously bowing.

Emerada met the dictato's gaze, and he
stood up and smiled at her, his expression one
of expectancy. She gathered her courage and
went back down the stairs. The day she had
waited and planned for had come, and she prayed that she would have the courage to do
what she must do.

As Emerada approached Santa Anna, her
smile was alluring, her body arched, and she
allowed her gown to slip off her shoulder to reveal the merest hint of soft breasts. Although
she wore the expression of a seductress and her
eyes held an invitation, she was trembling, not
with awe for the dictator, as any onlooker
might think, but with loathing. She detested
the part she was playing, and what she would
be forced to do to gain the confidence of this
man whom she despised above all others.

Emerada reminded herself that Santa Anna
was no fool. She was playing a dangerous
game that might cost her her life. But no matter what the cost, no matter how much she had
to degrade and humiliate herself, she would
play this game to win!

Nothing must go wrong!

She dropped into a low curtsy, and before
she could rise, she felt Santa Anna's hand on
her arm, guiding her upward.

"Bravisima, senorita. Magnifica! You are even
more wonderful than I have heard," the dictator said with passion. "I am honored to have
seen you dance."

Emerada studied him for a long moment. He
was a handsome man in spite of his flamboyant uniform. His eyes were soft and deep
brown, showing no evidence of the cruelty he
was capable of. She moved forward, allowing him to hold a chair for her, a chair that had
been hurriedly vacated by one of his officers.

"Thank you, Presidente." She could not bring
herself to smile at him: "You are more gracious
than I had heard." Her words sounded more
biting than she had intended.

Santa Anna frowned for a moment as he absorbed her words, wondering if he'd just been
insulted. Then, when she looked up at him coquettishly, his amused laughter joined hers.

She was daring and bold just the way he
liked his women. He congratulated himself
when he saw how deeply she was affected by
his presence. Before the night was over, the
San Antonio Rose would be his to do with as he
desired.

"Did you know that I came out of my way so
I could see you perform, my beauty?" He raised
her hand and kissed her fingertips lingeringly,
while staring deeply into her eyes. "It was
worth it. Will you not dance for me again?"

Emerada shook her head. "I would rather
talk to you, Presidente. I have heard that you
are a fascinating conversationalist."

He smiled. "Whether that is true or not, you
can judge for yourself, senorita. But this place
is much too public. Do you not have somewhere that we can be alone?"

She lowered her lashes. "No, not alone, Presidente. It would not be proper for me to be
alone with a man, even you." She acted de mure, but it was less of an act than anyone
would have guessed. Emerada had never been
alone with a man before. "But would you do
me the honor of dining with me in my room?"

Santa Anna stood and helped her to stand,
thinking she'd been an easy conquest. The rumormongers would have it that she would not
be easily won. The gossip that had reached his
ears was that San Antonio Rose never entertained a man in private. He smiled, feeling
pleased with his prowess. "That is what I desire
above all else. Let us go there now."

She drew her hand from his. "You must not
come to my room until I make myself more
presentable for you, and my maid will want to
make certain the food is worthy of you. When I
am ready, I will send my man to you. His name
is Domingo."

Santa Anna bowed, his eyes on the plunging
neckline of her gown. "Do not keep me waiting
too long, beautiful one."

She blushed prettily, while stepping away
from him. "I look forward to dining with you,
Presidente."

Ian was not near enough to hear the conversation between Santa Anna and the dancer, but it
was easy to guess what they were saying by
their behavior. It was apparent that Santa Anna
and the woman knew each other very wellprobably intimately.

Tonight had been his good fortune. He'd
never expected that his investigation into the
woman's personal life would lead him to the
Mexican dictator. He sank back into the shadows and watched the woman move up the
stairs. Her hips swayed gracefully, and he
found himself wondering what it would feel
like to hold that body next to his.

Ian shook his head to clear it of such
thoughts. Houston had good reason to be suspicious of her-a hell of a good reason!

He'd bet his life on the fact that Santa Anna
and the dancer were lovers.

Emerada's expression was grim as she hurried
down the back steps of the cantina to the hotel,
where she had a suite of rooms. The streets
were deserted, and she encountered no one on
her way. When she finally reached her suite,
she closed the door and leaned against it, trying to stop her heart from pounding. She was
frightened, and she had every right to be. Santa
Anna was a dangerous man. What if she couldn't go through with it? What if...?

Josifina Gomez came out of the bedroom
and hurried toward her charge. "Emerada,
what has happened? You are so pale. Are you
ill?"

"I have had a shock, nothing more."

Josifina gripped the neck of Emerada's lowcut gown, pulling it back onto her shoulders.
"It is bad enough that you must dance in a pub lie place: must you also dress like a woman of
the streets?" She tossed her hands in the air as
if invoking divine guidance; then she crossed
herself and looked upward. "What your sainted
mother would say about your actions, I cannot
guess. If she is watching, she will know I have
had no part in this thing that you do."

"Must we go into that again?" Emerada
sighed. She'd heard all this many times, and
she was in no mood to be lectured tonight.

"Where is Domingo? Why is he not with you?
I told him never to leave you alone. This is not
a decent town for a properly brought up young
lady to be seen without an escort."

"I only came up the stairs alone. Besides, I
sent Domingo to saddle our horses and gather
supplies. Later I will want you to pack my
small valise."

Josifina looked at Emerada suspiciously.
"You are going to see that American general
again. Do not deny it; I know you are, while I
fret and worry if you will come back alive.
When will all this end?"

Emerada was weary. All she wanted to do
was fall across the bed and go to sleep. She
certainly didn't want to argue with Josifina,
and she did not want to entertain the Mexican
Presidente.

"I do what I have to. I do not like it any more
than you, Josifina. But you know it is something I must do if I am going to help bring
down Santa Anna."

The older woman clicked her tongue. "What
makes you think you can succeed where others
have failed? Heed me well, Emerada: this will
cost you your life if you continue. How can I
keep my promise to your mother to keep you
safe if you recklessly endanger your life?" Josifina declared forcefully.

"I myself did not know if it could be done
until I met the American general. Houston may
just be the man who can help me destroy Santa
Anna."

"Domingo can carry your words to this
Houston. You do not need to go. I will tell him
this when he gets back."

Emerada was still pondering her meeting
with Santa Anna, and Josifina's words failed to
reach her. She looked into the concerned eyes
of the woman who had been her ninera when
she was small, her duenna when she was older.
Now Josifina took care of her, not as a servant,
but lovingly, and sometimes high-handedly.

Josifina still wore the old Spanish-style clothing. She was dressed in a plain black gown and
a black mantilla fastened with a large pearl
clip. She was slightly built, and her back was
stooped with age, but although she looked fragile, she could be a formidable adversary.

Other than Emerada's Aunt Dilena, who was
in Paris, Josifina and Domingo were the only
people left from her old life. She didn't know
what she would do without their care and con cern. And she would need them more as the
days passed.

"Josifina, he's here," Emerada said at last.

The older woman's face drained of color and
she gasped audibly. She didn't need to ask who
was here-she knew. Every step Emerada had
taken for the last year had been skillfully calculated and meticulously planned for her meeting with Santa Anna. Josifina had dreaded the
time when her charge would finally come faceto-face with the man who had ordered the
death of Emerada's family.

"You saw him-spoke to him?"

"Si." Emerada let out a pent-up breath. "I invited him to dine with me, and he accepted."
She avoided Josifina's eyes, knowing they
would be disapproving and accusing.

"You know that man had no respect for
women! Has he not scattered his seed all across
Mexico? Has he not left many a young girl with
a broken heart and a ruined reputation?"

"I am not some innocent who can be swayed
by his high office or empty promises." Emerada kicked off her red dancing shoes, trying to
hide her nervousness. "Help me dress in my
silk gown. Hurry. He will be here soon."

Ian slipped out of the cantina and stood in the
shadows just outside the door. He waited and
watched, his senses alert. Soon his vigilance
was rewarded; Santa Anna appeared, sur rounded by his entourage. He paused so near
Ian that had Ian been so inclined, he could
have reached out and touched the dictator. He
clung to the shadows as Santa Anna spoke to
his men.