Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Tempt Me With Kisses (The Hearts of California Series, Book 3)
Tempt Me With Kisses (The Hearts of California Series, Book 3)
Tempt Me With Kisses (The Hearts of California Series, Book 3)
Ebook547 pages9 hours

Tempt Me With Kisses (The Hearts of California Series, Book 3)

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

3.5/5

()

Read preview

About this ebook

Daniel Aragon knows trouble and torment when he sees it, and the flirtatious beauty standing on the San Francisco pier is both. The niece of a land commissioner, Harmony Russell is strictly off-limits. The Aragon family land grant review must go off without a hitch.

But Harmony isn't about to let business come between her and the handsome stranger who dared to steel her heart with one dark glance. Casting aside propriety, she sets out to seduce the hot-blooded Californio and gets snagged in her own trap.

Surrounded by scandal and forced to marry, the Aragon family land hangs in the balance as the pair face a difficult choice: drop their prideful ways and join forces or surrender to a loveless, and landless, future.

AWARDS:
Romantic Times, 4 stars!

HEARTS OF CALIFORNIA, in series order
Hearts of Gold
No Sweeter Ecstasy
Tempt Me With Kisses

Also by Phoebe Conn...
THE HEARTS OF LIBERTY, in series order
Savage Destiny
Defiant Destiny
Forbidden Destiny
Wild Destiny
Scarlet Destiny
LanguageEnglish
Release dateNov 17, 2014
ISBN9781614176985
Tempt Me With Kisses (The Hearts of California Series, Book 3)
Author

Phoebe Conn

Phoebe Conn Bio Always a passionate lover of books, this New York Times bestselling author first answered a call to write in 1980 and swiftly embarked on her own mythic journey. Her first book, LOVE’S ELUSIVE FLAME, was a Zebra historical in 1983. Her 33rd book, a contemporary, DEFY THE WORLD TOMATOES was a November 2010 release from Samhain. Her 34th, WHERE DREAMS BEGIN, debuted at #1 on Samhain’s Romantic Suspense bestsellers list in June, 2011. With more than seven million copies in print of her historical, contemporary and futuristic books written under her own name as well as her pseudonym, Cinnamon Burke, she is as enthusiastic as ever about writing. A native Californian, Phoebe attended the University of Arizona and California State University at Los Angeles where she earned a BA in Art History and an MA in Education. Her books have won Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Awards and a nomination for Storyteller of the Year. Her futuristic, STARFIRE, won a RomCom award as best Futuristic Romance of the year. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Novelists Inc., PEN, AWritersWork.com and Backlistebooks.com. She is the proud mother of two grown sons and one adorable grandson, who loves to have her read to him.

Read more from Phoebe Conn

Related to Tempt Me With Kisses (The Hearts of California Series, Book 3)

Related ebooks

Historical Romance For You

View More

Related articles

Related categories

Reviews for Tempt Me With Kisses (The Hearts of California Series, Book 3)

Rating: 3.5714285714285716 out of 5 stars
3.5/5

7 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Tempt Me With Kisses (The Hearts of California Series, Book 3) - Phoebe Conn

    Tempt Me With Kisses

    The Hearts of California Series

    Book Three

    by

    Phoebe Conn

    New York Times Bestselling Author

    Published by ePublishing Works!

    www.epublishingworks.com

    ISBN: 978-1-61417-698-5

    By payment of required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this eBook. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of copyright owner.

    Please Note

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

    The reverse engineering, uploading, and/or distributing of this eBook via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

    Copyright © 2014 by Phoebe Conn. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

    Cover by Kim Killion www.thekilliongroupinc.com

    eBook design by eBook Prep www.ebookprep.com

    Dedication

    This book is dedicated to my fellow native Californians. We are a very rare and special breed.

    Chapter 1

    December, 1851

    Having barely survived the unrelenting boredom of a three and a half month ocean voyage, Harmony Russell was thrilled to death when the Spanish Dancer at last docked in San Francisco. Her mother's lessons in decorum momentarily forgotten, she gave into the exuberance filling her soul and crossed the clipper ship's deck with a series of ecstatic leaps. When she reached the starboard rail, she turned and called excitedly to her cousin.

    A far more reserved young woman, Carrie Duncan was badly embarrassed by the spectacle Harmony had just made of herself. When a furtive glance revealed the other passengers were more interested in disembarking than observing her cousin's impromptu jig, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Displaying the elegant posture and sedate pace she believed a young lady always should, she joined Harmony at the rail.

    Unaware of the discomfort she had caused Carrie, Harmony gave a delighted squeal as she feasted her sea-weary eyes on the hilly landscape of San Francisco. She was anxious to explore the rapidly growing city, but her uncle had yet to finish his packing, and she had had ample opportunity on the lengthy voyage to learn that Fletcher Duncan could not be hurried. He took his time with everything, whether it was getting dressed in the morning, or finishing the last crumb on his plate at night. The man gave a whole new meaning to the word meticulous, and she was eager to escape both the confines of the ship, and her uncle's tedious habits.

    As her fellow passengers reached the end of the gangplank and surged out onto the dock, they were immediately surrounded by the ambitious runners employed by the hotels that might otherwise not attract patrons. She was amused by their extravagant promises and doubted that the men's descriptions of superb lodgings could be believed. She could not help but laugh at one couple, who were being actively solicited by three young men attempting to outshout one another. It made her grateful their accommodations at the St. Francis Hotel had been arranged before they sailed from Baltimore.

    She continued to observe the activity at the dock, and a tall man dressed in a well-tailored black frock coat and matching trousers soon caught her eye. He was holding a thick sheaf of papers, and she assumed he must have important business at the crowded port. He was standing at an angle that prevented her from seeing his face clearly, but his broad shoulders, slim hips, and proud stance gave every indication that his features would be attractive.

    The day was cold, but he wore neither an overcoat nor hat. His hair was as black as the devil's heart and rippled in the biting northwesterly wind, immediately conjuring up the image of an Indian brave's untamed locks. An imaginative young woman, she saw him in her mind's eye with a magnificent ebony mane, flying behind him like a war bonnet when he raced his pinto pony across the prairie. With such an impressive build, she was confident he possessed the strength to kill a buffalo with a single arrow, or an expertly thrown spear. Entranced by such a romantic vision, she didn't notice that he had turned toward her until Carrie gave her a sharp poke in the ribs with her elbow.

    That man's staring at you! Carrie informed her in an anguished whisper. We've not been in San Francisco for five minutes, and already you're flirting as boldly as you did back home!

    Knowing she had been daydreaming rather than flirting, Harmony ignored her cousin's criticism. Now that she could see the make-believe Indian brave's face, she was even more intrigued by him, for there was nothing savage about his well-chiseled features. It was impossible to discern the color of his eyes at a distance, but just as Carrie had reported, he was staring up at her. He was a handsome man with a wicked grin, and she could not help but return his welcoming smile, which upset Carrie all the more.

    Don't encourage him! she scolded.

    Harmony raised her hand and waved. This is California, Carrie, where all the men are millionaires. Why shouldn't we be friendly?

    A lady never encourages the attentions of strangers, Carrie reminded her high-spirited cousin. Fearing the dark-haired man was a rake who would swiftly run up the gangplank and introduce himself, she turned her back to the rail.

    I shudder to think of how many fine ladies die of boredom each day, Harmony responded when the charming man returned her wave. I think I'm going to love San Francisco. She was about to blow the friendly stranger a kiss, when one of the ship's officers took his arm and pointed toward the freight wagons being loaded on the pier. He looked back over his shoulder, and Harmony saw what appeared to be sincere regret in his expression before he turned away.

    He's leaving, she told Carrie. You can relax. I'll not leap over the side into his arms.

    "You promised not to embarrass Papa and me. You promised."

    Harmony continued to admire the departing man until he was lost from view. She then sighed wistfully as she recalled what a wonderful Indian brave he had made. She had never actually met an Indian, but she imagined them to be as handsome and personable as this man had appeared to be.

    I came along to keep you company while your father serves on the Land Commission, but I'll not become a recluse just because you shun amusing companions.

    I'm not reclusive, Carrie contradicted primly. It's just that I prefer to behave like a lady.

    And I never do?

    Well, yes, sometimes you do.

    Good, be grateful on those occasions, Harmony suggested. Oh look, there's your father. We can finally leave for the hotel.

    As Harmony skipped to Fletcher Duncan's side, Carrie shook her head. Her cousin had the elfin spirit to match her petite size, but Carrie had never even been tempted to try and keep up with her.

    * * *

    Thoughts of the good-looking man who had welcomed her to San Francisco lingered with Harmony all day. She recognized him the instant he entered the St. Francis's dining room that night. Her uncle and cousin were seated opposite her, so she was the only one with a view of the door. When he and his male companion were shown to a table that provided her with an excellent view of him, she found it difficult to appear interested in the succulent roast quail on her plate.

    She kept hoping that he would glance up and notice her, but he and his fair-haired friend were absorbed in a lively conversation, and he did not once gaze about the room. Nevertheless, she found observing him immensely entertaining. He proved to have excellent table manners, and at the same time managed to convey the impression that he was thoroughly enjoying his meal and wine.

    Seated in the elegantly appointed dining room, the appealing stranger no longer reminded her of a handsome savage. Now he looked more like a statesman attending a dinner party at an embassy. Or, she decided with a sudden burst of inspiration, like a prince conferring with a trusted advisor. Because of his dark coloring, she chose to think of him as Hungarian, and knew he would live in a fabulous castle that would echo with the romantic music of gypsy violins. He and his confidant were undoubtedly discussing his prospects for a good marriage. Knowing she would make a perfectly wonderful princess, she hoped her name was at the top of their list.

    You look awfully pleased with yourself tonight, my dear, Fletcher teased his favorite niece.

    Even though she considered her uncle overly fastidious, he was attentive and kind and Harmony did love him, if not in the same fashion she would love a dashing prince. Not daring to admit that she had been eyeing one of the hotel's other guests, she attempted an innocent smile. I'm just excited to be here in San Francisco at long last.

    We all are, Fletcher agreed with a smile that included his daughter. Carrie had inherited his light brown hair and blue eyes, but while his nose and chin were a trifle sharp, her features had a charming delicacy. He was a small man with a trim build, but Carrie favored her late mother's side of the family and had more statuesque proportions.

    For once, her uncle's time-consuming eating habits did not annoy Harmony. She followed his example and cut the delicious quail into minuscule bites, and then chewed each one a dozen times. She wanted to stay in the dining room as long as the man who inspired such entertaining daydreams remained.

    When he stood up to leave, she crossed her fingers in her lap, willing him to finally look her way, but he left the room without noticing her. Badly disappointed, she showed little interest in the nut and raisin pastry dessert. They were apparently guests in the some hotel, and surely an opportunity to meet would eventually present itself. It couldn't occur too soon to suit her.

    The lingering excitement of their journey's end made it difficult to fall asleep that night. She brushed her thick auburn hair more than her usual hundred strokes before climbing into bed, but she still didn't feel tired. Looking forward to having a full-sized bed after spending so many nights in a narrow bunk, she wiggled around for several minutes before settling into a comfortable pose.

    She and Carrie had shared a cabin on board the Spanish Dancer, and she was grateful to have a room all to herself again. She sighed contentedly and closed her eyes, but an attractive stranger with a rakish grin instantly intruded on her thoughts. He was most certainly not the first man she had taken a fancy to, but he was the only one to whom she had not been formally introduced. It lent an element of danger to her fantasies.

    What type of man was the most dangerous of all? she asked herself. Almost instantly her fertile imagination supplied a vision of the smiling stranger dressed as a pirate, and brandishing a sword as he and his men stormed the decks of a Spanish galleon heavily laden with treasure. Of course! she exulted silently. Why hadn't she thought of him as a pirate in the first place? He would make an absolutely fearless pirate, who would undoubtedly have an island hideout in the Caribbean where she would await his return, dressed in no more than a silk scarf or two. What a wonderfully romantic existence that would be, she thought dreamily, and pretending to be in the dashing pirate's arms, she drifted off to sleep.

    * * *

    That weekend there was a reception honoring the three members of the Land Commission at Wilson's Exchange Hotel. Harmony expected the music to be exceptionally beautiful and the gaiety of the dancing to reflect the lively spirit of San Francisco. Anticipating a fabulously entertaining evening, she wore her favorite gown. The pale gold satin brought out not only the reddish highlights in her hair, but also the golden flecks in her eyes, making them appear more amber than brown.

    When they arrived, she found the musicians did indeed provide a variety of inviting dance tunes, but she could do no more than listen and tap her foot when her uncle insisted both Carrie and she stand beside him while he and the other two commissioners greeted each guest. Her smile grew increasingly strained as a seemingly endless queue of San Francisco's finest citizens filed by. She repeated each name as people were introduced, but knew she would not recall a single one for more than a few seconds. Anxious to dance, she leaned forward slightly to look past Carrie and judge how many more people were left to meet.

    To her immense delight, the dark-haired man who had provided such provocative fantasies was fast approaching. Looking toward her end of the line, his gaze locked with hers, and after a brief moment of uncertainty, he recognized her and broke into the insolent grin she had found so charming on the docks. The gentleman in front of her spoke then and she had to respond. His wife followed, and two men she scarcely saw.

    Then the man of her dreams took her hand, and as he brought it to his lips, he winked at her. His eyes were as deep a brown as bittersweet chocolate, and framed with a thick fringe of long, ebony lashes that would have appeared effeminate on a less masculine man.

    How do you do, Miss Russell? he asked in a seductive baritone that was as warm as a loving caress.

    Up close, he was even more attractive than Harmony had imagined. He was also several years older, in his thirties rather than his twenties as she had assumed from the thickness of his hair and trimness of his physique. While she had always enjoyed receiving attention from men, she had never experienced such a heady wave of desire, and it was not only her cheeks that felt the heat of a bright blush. Completely captivated by him, she would have stared into his dark eyes all evening had Carrie not given her an insistent nudge, signaling it was time for her to present the next guest. Harmony was then embarrassed to admit that she had been so enchanted by the man who still held her hand, that she had missed his name.

    I'm so sorry, she explained in a breathless rush. I didn't hear your name.

    Dr. Daniel Aragon, he repeated, accenting the second syllable of both names and revealing his Spanish heritage. His left front tooth had been chipped slightly in a boyhood accident, but that scarcely constituted a flaw with his dazzling smile.

    You're a physician? Harmony's golden brown eyes widened in surprise.

    Yes, I am, but I hope you never have a need to call on me.

    The teasing sparkle that lit his dark eyes said just the opposite was true. It appeared he enjoyed flirting as greatly as she, and he gave her gloved hand a fond squeeze before moving on into the ballroom. She watched him walk away, again impressed by his athletic grace. Carrie had to nudge her a second time to gain her attention before introducing the next man in line.

    Mr. Le Sage, Harmony greeted him, now determined to keep her wits about her. She recognized him as Daniel's dinner companion. He was also tall, but fair-haired, with eyes more violet than blue. While he was quite good-looking, he seemed uninterested in making her acquaintance and hurried to catch up with Dr. Aragon.

    Harmony was now even more anxious for the last of the guests to be introduced. Daniel Aragon looked nothing like their kindly family physician in Baltimore, and she was positive he was a marvelous dancer. Although their conversation had been much too brief, she hoped there would be ample opportunity during the party to speak with him again. Then she remembered that the Spanish Dancer had been part of the Aragon line.

    My God, Carrie, she whispered to her cousin. Did we just meet the man who owns our ship?

    The awe in Harmony's voice carried to her uncle, who laughed before answering her question. Yes, my dear, but because his family also owns a large land grant upon which I shall have to rule, you'll not be able to cultivate his friendship.

    While she wanted to shriek in frustration at that warning, she kept smiling as she met the last of the guests. Carrie might think her manners sadly lacking, but she knew how to behave like a lady when she had no other choice.

    * * *

    Guy caught up with Daniel before he reached the bar. Have you taken leave of your senses? What possessed you to flirt with Duncan's niece?

    Daniel opened his mouth to reply, and then realized there was no logical way to justify his behavior. He had simply found Harmony Russell's ample charms impossible to resist. He had thought her exceptionally pretty when he had seen her standing at the Dancer's rail, but upon closer inspection considered her a rare beauty. He had met many petite women who possessed no more than a vacuous doll-like beauty, but the lively intelligence sparkling in Harmony's golden eyes was unmistakable.

    That was stupid of me, wasn't it? he asked with a lazy grin.

    Incredibly so! Guy fumed. Your father's land grant is valid. The commission will surely uphold it, but you mustn't jeopardize all the work I've done by seducing a commissioner's niece!

    Daniel gripped the conscientious attorney's shoulder in a brotherly clasp. That was a long way from a seduction, but I understand your point. Duncan's daughter is a prim little thing. She seems precisely your type. It's a shame you won't be able to call on her either.

    Guy did not enjoy being teased about his taste in women, or anything else for that matter, and shrugged off Daniel's hand. We're here tonight so no one can accuse us of being afraid of the commission, but there's a vast difference between displaying the confidence to which we're entitled and foolishly flaunting your wealth.

    Daniel responded with a dry chuckle. It wasn't money I was flaunting, Guy. When the straitlaced attorney actually began to blush, Daniel would have laughed aloud had he not seen a couple approaching he knew neither of them wanted to meet. Unfortunately, there wasn't sufficient time to escape.

    Sebastian Brookwood grabbed Daniel's hand in an enthusiastic grasp and proudly introduced himself and his daughter, Daphne. He was a portly man who had paid dearly for evening clothes tailored to disguise his ample girth. Daphne, however, had been blessed with a svelte figure. The green-eyed brunette was beautifully dressed in a satin gown of a vibrant emerald hue, but her smile was as predatory as her father's.

    I'm so pleased to finally have an opportunity to speak with you, Dr. Aragon, the businessman enthused. Perhaps you've heard of me?

    No, I can't say that I have, Daniel lied smoothly. With a height of six feet three inches, he looked down on the balding man's shiny pate.

    Sebastian nodded as Daniel introduced Guy as his attorney, and then continued, Well, then, allow me to explain. While I deal in investments of all kinds, my primary interest is in real estate. From what I hear, your family's grant is one of the oldest and will undoubtedly be upheld. Should you ever wish to sell some acreage, however, for ready cash, or simply to make your ranch a more manageable size, I hope you'll contact me.

    Daniel took a deep breath, and held it as long as he could before telling Sebastian Brookwood precisely what he thought of him. Even a vulture has the decency to wait for his prey to die before he swoops down on him. Not one acre of the Aragon holdings will ever be for sale. Don't make the mistake of wasting my time ever again.

    Guy winced as Daniel walked away, because that was precisely the type of arrogance the proud physician could ill afford. The Americans were already jealous of the Californios' holdings and insulting any of them—even a land speculator like Sebastian Brookwood—was dangerous. I'm sorry, he apologized. Dr. Aragon and his family quite naturally perceive the Land Commission's investigations as a threat, and are disgusted by it. He is usually considered to be a gentleman of exceptional charm.

    Daphne Brookwood smiled prettily. Tell us something about yourself, Mr. Le Sage. You're not from California are you?

    Guy was astonished that the attractive young woman would dismiss Daniel to concentrate on him, and immensely flattered. Why no, I'm from Springfield, Illinois. When a few minutes later he found himself dancing with her, he could not recall asking for the privilege, but enjoyed holding her in his arms too greatly to care.

    Daniel had crossed half the ballroom before he remembered that he had not intended to remain at the reception for longer than five minutes. Too angry to think clearly, when he saw Harmony enter the room with her uncle and cousin, he started toward her. She responded with a smile that lit her whole face with joy, and he knew she would not refuse his invitation to dance. He was easily a foot taller than she, but she proved to be such a graceful partner that the disparity in their heights presented no problem. He forced himself to smile as though he had no cares as they moved in time to the lilting Strauss waltz.

    Harmony is a lovely name. Are your parents musicians?

    Just as she had supposed, Daniel was the best dancer she had ever met, and, completely enthralled by him, she needed several seconds to respond intelligently rather than with girlish giggles. No, they're not. My mother feared that because I have red hair, I'd be thought hot-tempered. She chose my name to counteract that assumption.

    You're not hot-tempered? Daniel drew her close to ask.

    She did not know what she was at the moment, other than madly in love for the first time in her life. Daniel Aragon was not only tall and handsome, he was incredibly charming, and she imagined enormously wealthy as well. Not that money mattered to her. It didn't. She had met far too many wealthy men who had bored her silly to assign much importance to impressive finances. Charm was another matter entirely though, and Daniel appeared to have an abundance of the elusive quality.

    Do you honestly expect me to answer that question? she asked, with a coquettish toss of the auburn tresses it had taken her all afternoon to curl.

    Amused, Daniel offered a bargain. I'll answer any question you ask, if you'll answer mine.

    She studied his sly smile and was enchanted anew. Hot-tempered is too harsh a description. I prefer high-spirited. When he nodded, she assumed he was satisfied with her response, and asked the only question that mattered. Are you married?

    Daniel laughed in spite of his best efforts not to. He could not recall ever meeting another young woman who had the boldness to wave at him from the deck of a ship, or ask personal questions during their first conversation. Do you think I'd have asked you to dance if I were?

    Is that a no? she inquired with an ecstatic smile.

    Yes, it's a no, Daniel drew her closer still as the music came to an end. Sorry she was a relative of one of the commissioners, he escorted her back to Fletcher Duncan's side. He kissed her hand once again, and then bid her good night and left the party.

    Harmony was positive that ascending straight to heaven could not possibly be any more thrilling than dancing with Daniel Aragon. She would have died had he said that he had a wife and several children at home.

    Both Fletcher and Carrie observed Harmony's blissful smile with disapproving glances, and he offered a firm word of caution. I should have mentioned this before we arrived, my dear, but we'll undoubtedly meet many men who'll attempt to use you to influence my decision in their favor when the commission hears their case. To avoid any such unfortunate possibility, you'll have to refuse all invitations from anyone with a case pending. Dr. Aragon is only one such example.

    His interest seemed sincere, uncle, Harmony insisted. She could not deny that her interest in the fascinating physician most certainly was. Even before their eyes had met at the docks, she had known he was someone special. She liked to think he had also admired her at first glance.

    Fletcher lowered his voice. We'll not argue the issue here. This party was given in our honor, and I want you to enjoy yourself. I will, however, forbid you to see Dr. Aragon again, or anyone else with business before the commission. Now here come several young men who appear eager to dance with you both. Smile for them.

    Still savoring the memory of her one dance with Daniel Aragon, Harmony had no difficulty smiling the whole evening. She was an attentive partner to every man who invited her to dance, and because San Francisco had far more bachelors than lovely young women of marriageable age, both she and Carrie never lacked for partners. It wasn't until she returned to her room at the hotel that she flew into the furious rage she could no longer contain.

    She had met a great many nice men that night, but none had captivated her heart the way Daniel had. Not to see him again was unthinkable. She paced her room for nearly an hour, until she was certain her uncle and Carrie had to be asleep. Then she wrote a brief note to the dashing physician, telling him her uncle had forbidden her to see him again and imploring him to find a way for them to meet.

    Hiding in the shadows, she crept down the stairs. At that late hour the lobby was deserted, and she asked the clerk at the desk to place the note in Dr. Aragon's box. After noting the number of his room above the mail compartment, she dashed back up the stairs to her room and collapsed across the bed. No sooner had she caught her breath, than she began to regret the rashness of her actions. Shouldn't she have waited for Daniel to ask to call on her before suggesting they meet in secret? she agonized.

    Her mother had frequently issued stern warnings about the dangers of drinking champagne, and she had not had a single drop. In her mother's view, a lady was permitted to have a glass of wine with meals, but the drinking of champagne at parties quickly led to intoxication. Harmony knew that was a danger a woman had to studiously avoid to safeguard her virtue. No, she could not blame her lapse of manners on champagne. She had wantonly behaved like a lust-crazed trollop all on her own.

    Soon convinced she had just made the stupidest mistake of her life, she made her way back downstairs and, assuming a bored nonchalance she didn't feel, asked the clerk to return her note.

    I'm surprised you didn't pass Dr. Aragon on the stairs, the young man remarked. He then turned to remove a message from the slot below her room number. He left you a reply.

    Rather than requesting a new envelope, Daniel had merely crossed out his name and written hers on the one she had left for him. Thank you. I'm sorry, but I've forgotten to bring you a tip. I'll see to it tomorrow.

    There's no need, Miss Russell. Dr. Aragon took care of it.

    Harmony found the desk clerk's knowing smile most objectionable, but rather than calling attention to it, she again bid him good night and hurried up the stairs. Her hands were shaking so badly, she had great difficulty unlocking her door. Once inside the privacy of her room, she ran her fingertips over her hastily scrawled name, while she attempted to gather the courage to open the envelope and read Daniel's reply. She found his handwriting as handsome as the rest of him, but she was desperately afraid of what he might have said.

    What if she had met him on the stairs? she thought in horror. Would he have laughed at her eagerness to see him again? Would he have teased her? Was it possible he had been insulted by her note, and might not even have acknowledged her presence?

    There was only one way to discover what his reaction had been to her bold request, but it was not until she was nearly faint from anxiety that she finally forced herself to withdraw the single sheet of stationery and read his note. When she saw he had merely penned an address on Washington Street at the bottom of her message, she was not merely confused, but devastated with disappointment. She flopped down on the edge of her bed and, with tear-filled eyes, tried to decide what it meant.

    Although she had been in San Francisco only a few days, she was fast becoming familiar with the city. Carrie had absolutely no sense of direction, so she was the one who guided their travels when they went out shopping. The St. Francis Hotel was located at the southwest corner of Clay and Dumont. Washington Street lay one block to the north. But where was the address Daniel had given her? And more importantly, what was located there?

    Fearing he had thought her too forward and had misconstrued her intentions, she wondered if he had suggested another hotel for an assignation. She was absolutely mortified by that possibility. Then she realized he would have suggested a day and time had that been his intention. Embarrassed and perplexed, she stared at the note for a long while, before finally laying it aside to prepare for bed. While the message represented incriminating evidence of the most scandalous sort, she couldn't bring herself to destroy it, and instead slept with it tucked under her pillow.

    Chapter 2

    On Sunday, Harmony attended both the morning and evening services at the Methodist Episcopal Church on Powell Street with her uncle and cousin, but she heard not a single word of the sermons, nor could she name any of the hymns. She was far too preoccupied with the effort to find a way to repair the damage she had undoubtedly done by approaching Daniel Aragon, before he had showed more than a passing interest in her.

    Each time she thought of that folly, which was at least once a minute, her dread increased. She had never chased a man. Indeed, she had never had reason to, because they had always responded with predictable enthusiasm to her friendliness. Daniel had demonstrated the same warmth she was used to receiving, so why hadn't she waited for him to make the next move?

    She finally decided Cupid really did exist, and she had most definitely been struck by one of his darts. She had always believed the mythical cherub aimed for the heart, but she felt as though she had been struck in the head, she had shown such little sense. As a thirteen-year-old with her first crush, she had behaved far more sensibly.

    Thoroughly ashamed of herself, she was subdued all day, but by Monday, she had devised a plan to make amends with Daniel that she considered absolutely brilliant. Her Uncle Fletcher was busy preparing for the opening of the Land Commission's hearings in January, so she had only Carrie to worry about. Knowing she had far more stamina than her cousin, she cleverly suggested they get some much needed exercise by going out for a brisk walk. Because Carrie was also enjoying a newfound sense of freedom after leaving the close confines of the Spanish Dancer, she was easily convinced an ambitious stroll was precisely what they both needed to start the week.

    Harmony had to fight not to smile too widely as they turned east on Washington Street. She had memorized the address Daniel had given her, and she prayed they were walking in the right direction. She soon discovered that they were, and hoped that Carrie would not complain of fatigue before they reached their destination. When the address proved to be the location of the impressive brick headquarters of the Aragon Line, she was so relieved she nearly shouted for joy. Not nearly that foolhardy, she walked on by it without commenting, and then led her cousin south on Montgomery and up Clay Street to return to the hotel.

    They had not had to walk nearly as far as Harmony had thought they would, but predictably, Carrie yawned all through lunch and declared a need for a nap as soon as they had finished eating. Pleased her plan was progressing so well, Harmony feigned fatigue and, covering a wide yawn, left Carrie at her door. She then quickly freshened up and hurriedly left the hotel. While a carriage would have saved time, she did not want anyone to be able to report on where she had gone, and dared not request one.

    It was shortly after two when she reached the offices of the Aragon Line for the second time that day. Gathering all her poise, she entered the building and announced to the clerk at the desk in the foyer that she had come to see Dr. Aragon.

    The young man hurriedly rose to his feet. Is he expecting you?

    Harmony smiled confidently. Well, of course, he is.

    I'm sorry. It's only that I didn't recall him mentioning any appointments for this afternoon.

    Rather than provide any further explanation, Harmony relied solely on the innocent beauty of her smile. Suddenly understanding that her visit was not the type Dr. Aragon would list on his appointment calendar, the clerk tripped over his own feet in his haste to lead the way to Daniel's office. When he rapped on the door, she heard Daniel respond, and moved in front of the clerk.

    I'd like to surprise him, she said as she slid her hand under his on the knob.

    But I thought you said he was expecting you, the flustered clerk complained.

    Oh indeed he is, Harmony promised with a bewitching smile that completely ended the befuddled young man's resistance to her plans. He wandered back to his desk, not certain what had happened, but thinking Dr. Aragon exceedingly lucky to have such a lovely visitor.

    Calling upon her last reserves of courage with a deep breath, Harmony opened the door and stepped into the oak-paneled private office. Daniel was seated at his desk, busy checking the addition on a long column of figures, and since he raised his hand in a silent plea for a moment's time, she thoughtfully remained at the open door. When he glanced up and saw not his clerk, but Harmony, he was so startled his mouth fell agape. Swiftly recovering, he rose to his feet and came forward to meet her.

    Miss Russell, what a pleasant surprise. He gestured toward one of the leather wing chairs arranged around a low table at the back of the spacious office, then went to the door and called out for his clerk. When the young man hastily answered his summons, he requested a pot of tea.

    Tea, sir?

    Yes, Robbins. It may be a bit early, but we'd like some tea. When the clerk shrugged helplessly, Daniel leaned out the door and whispered, "Run down to the Dancer and borrow a pot and be quick about it."

    It was so obvious that Daniel never served tea in his office, that Harmony wondered if she was the only woman he had ever invited there. She had never expected him to be as flustered as his clerk by her visit, and it strengthened her resolve that she had at least done one thing right. When he turned toward her, she began the speech she had rehearsed.

    I'll not stay more than a moment. Refreshments really aren't necessary.

    She was again dressed in the deep green wool gown and matching bonnet she had been wearing when the Spanish Dancer had docked. The colorful outfit provided not only a superb complement to her vivid coloring, but also a heady reminder of their first encounter. Daniel knew he ought to send her on her way, but could not bring himself to do so. He sank down into the chair opposite hers.

    As long as you've gone to the trouble to pay me a call, you might as well stay awhile, he remarked with a ready grin.

    While his obvious pleasure at seeing her thrilled Harmony clear to her toes, she responded calmly, I've only come to apologize. I don't want you to think that I make a habit of disobeying my uncle's rules. I have absolutely no excuse for writing you that silly note. It's only that he's an attorney and can't separate people from their cases. I don't view the world in the same narrow way.

    Her bonnet was perched atop her curls at a saucy angle. It was decorated with a pheasant feather whose bright russet shade closely matched her auburn hair. It was a charming accent that led Daniel's glance from her face to the feather in an appreciative sweep. There is a similar temptation in medicine to view patients not as people but as representative cases of a particular disease. I've always tried to avoid that failing.

    Men often observed her closely, but the stirring intensity of Daniel's gaze was something entirely new. How eyes that dark a brown could convey the heat of an open flame she could not comprehend, but she was growing uncomfortably warm. I'd not thought of that comparison, but it's an apt one, she agreed. I'm glad we share the same opinion on something so important.

    She had a lace-trimmed handkerchief in the reticule suspended from her wrist, but dared not withdraw it to dry the dewy film forming on her upper lip. She would not make the mistake of seeing Daniel again without bringing a fan. Then shocked to discover she could already be contemplating a return visit, she had to look away.

    Your note wasn't silly, Daniel mused aloud. It was dangerous, but certainly not silly.

    Dangerous? she whispered, barely able to catch her breath as her gaze again locked with his. He was dressed in a dark gray frock coat, matching trousers, and a pale gray waistcoat. His clothing was as handsome as he was and he did not appear to be in the least bit warm, so the temperature of the room wasn't causing her discomfort.

    Completely unaware of his unsettling effect on her, Daniel nodded. It's understandable that your uncle would forbid you to see me because he's one of the commissioners who'll rule on my family's grant. But I hope that's his only reason, he added with a sly chuckle.

    She nodded as she tried to find her voice. The collar of her gown suddenly seemed too tight, and she reached up to adjust it to a more comfortable fit. I believe he's worried about charges of influence. Not that you would use me in an attempt to influence his decisions, but other men might.

    Before Daniel could reply, Robbins returned. He had not simply brought a teapot from the Spanish Dancer, but a steward bearing a silver tray containing a silver tea service, china cups, silver spoons, sugar, cream, lemon slices, small teacakes, and starched white linen napkins. While Daniel was astonished, he nevertheless managed to conceal the fact and reacted as though the steward arrived each afternoon to serve tea to his guests. As soon as the young man had completed that task, he withdrew and took Robbins with him.

    Harmony had never felt less like sipping a steaming cup of tea, but at least it provided her with an excuse to blot her upper lip with her napkin. Everything is delicious, but I really didn't intend to take so much of your time. As I said, I meant only to apologize. It was quite late, and the lingering excitement of the reception unfortunately clouded my judgment.

    Miss Russell,—

    I wish you'd call me Harmony.

    He smiled, but neglected to use her name when he continued. Have you even the vaguest idea of what your uncle is doing here in California?

    Shocked by the insulting nature of his question, she sat back slightly. Well, of course, I do. The Land Commission was established by Congress to rule on the validity of Spanish and Mexican land grants.

    Why? he asked with a quizzically raised brow that gave clear warning that she was walking into a carefully laid trap.

    Why? she repeated hoarsely. When he nodded, she attempted to provide the reason. To settle the question of legal titles now that California has become part of the United States.

    Are you aware of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, in which the United States Government guaranteed that property held in ceded Mexican territories would be inviolably respected?

    Well, yes, I know there was considerable discussion on that point at the time the Land Commission was created, she admitted reluctantly.

    "Then you must have read Senator Benton's accusation that forcing Californios to prove the validity of their titles in what could well be a series of lengthy and costly court battles amounted to 'confiscation—slow, expensive, agonizing confiscation,' " he emphasized each of the Missouri senator's words.

    His tone of voice was still low, but rang with the fiery emotion of a loudly shouted accusation. She tried to make the best of what she feared was fast becoming an extremely volatile situation. Dr. Aragon, if your title is valid, it will be upheld.

    You don't understand one damn thing about this, he scoffed. It's the government who wants our land. The commissioners are the governments' puppets. Whose side do you think they're on?

    My uncle is an honest man! she insisted. He didn't come here with the intention of cheating people out of their land. How can you even suggest that he'll be biased?

    It's not a suggestion, Miss Russell. It's a fact. The United States wanted California, and when Mexico refused to sell, it started a senseless and brutal war to get it. My brother, Marc, now considers himself a great fool for having fought with the Americans. He actually believed that California would benefit by becoming a part of the United States, but when they reneged on the terms of their own treaty, he saw just how blind he'd been. If the government lacks the integrity to stand behind their own treaties, how can you possibly expect their Land Commission to be honest?

    I have complete faith in my uncle's integrity, even if the government he represents fails to live up to the terms of its treaties. As for the Mexican War, it wasn't only Mexicans who died in the fighting. Many Americans were killed as well. My uncle lost his only son.

    He moved forward, Not the uncle who's on the Land Commission?

    The hostility of his tone frightened her, and she had to swallow hard to find her voice. Yes. He's my mother's brother. He's the only uncle I have.

    He sprang from his chair and as he turned his back on her, he resorted to Spanish for the swear words the occasion required. Harmony's uncle would not simply be biased, but bent on revenge! He strode over to his desk, seized a heavy Venetian glass paperweight and hurled it into the wall with a force that dented the finely carved wood. Having completely lost his composure, when he finally wheeled around to face her, his expression was truly venomous.

    Do you understand now why I'm too dangerous to know? he asked accusingly.

    She bobbed her head up and down. Daniel Aragon was so handsome it almost hurt to look at him, but she had never dreamed

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1