She was up against him now, almost sobbing it, and his hands had slid around her waist, the flesh hot and silken against his palm through her gown. For one last moment he tried to fight it. But he had fought so long, so alone, without anyone, and the warm resilience of her body against him filled Crawford with a giddy weakness.
"Merida," he muttered thickly, bending her back, "Merida—"
She pulled away, her face flushed. "I can't—if you don't trust me—"
He held her that way, breathing heavily, her back arched away from him by the pressure of her hands against his chest. He searched her wide, dark eyes, and found no guile there. Still filled with that desire and driven by it, he made a guttural, inarticulate sound, releasing her, and took one step to the bed, lowering himself on the embroidered muslin coverlet. He bent to take off his right Justin. The fancy stitching across the top of the boot unknotted, and he pulled it away from half a dozen eyelets in the leather, revealing a double thickness which formed a pocket.
"Used to keep my money here," he said, pulling out the piece of parchment Rockland had given him. The woman's hand trembled as she took it from him, laying it on the bed beside her piece, fitting them together. Then her pale finger crossed the map until it reached a word printed on his section. Her voice was no more than a whisper.
"Mogotes Serpientes."
"Yeah," he said, watching her. "Yeah. I never got around to using the map. Kenmare was on my tail a lot since I left San Antonio. I didn't take too much stock in the story anyway. Del never told me anything about it, and it was his uncle supposed to have been captain of that mule train. How did Rockland get hold of this portion?"
"Delcazar's uncle escaped to Mexico City, where he died, his effects being turned over to the family lawyer down there," she said. "Rockland originally wanted the Delcazar land up here for the water. He sent Tarant down to Mexico City to make sure there was nothing in the Delcazar papers which would prevent having clear title to the land when he got hold of it. Tarant found this part of the chart when he was going through those papers." She straightened slowly, allowing her gaze to reach his face. "Do you know who has the other piece, Crawford?"
"No," he said.
Her eyes grew blank; and he stood swiftly, grasping her hand. "I've trusted you, Merida. Now you've got to trust me. I don't know."