Bandit's Embrace (The Durango Family) by Georgina Gentry

stage station. Sí, he’d like to be a prince, be able to claim an elegant girl like that princess as his own.
    “You sound bitter, hombre. Disappointed in love?”
    Bandit smirked at him to hide his thoughts of the black-haired beauty. Amethyst. Aimée. Beloved. The circle of her little ring seemed to burn his finger as her body had burned his manhood when he’d slipped into that circle of ecstasy.
    Forget-me-not. No, sweet; how could I? He had a sudden image of her delicate face between his two big hands. He ran his tongue over his lower lip, remembering the wine-sweet taste of her mouth; the featherlike brush of her kiss along his hard knuckles, the back of his bronzed hand.
    Bandit laughed carelessly. “One woman’s the same as another, I reckon; a toy to pleasure a man when his groin hurts.” She’d been more than that. God, so much more than that! A princess. Aloud, he said, “Tell me about this prince.”
    “There’s a kingdom involved, a rich empire.” Romeros’s dark eyes shone with eagerness. “The biggest ranch in all northern Mexico, a fine hacienda, wealth, respect.”
    Respect. Bandit’s eyebrows went up in sudden interest. Respectability was the thing most unattainable, the thing he hungered for. He had a vision of children chasing a small boy, throwing rocks and taunting. “What’s the catch?”
    Romeros shrugged. “No catch. I have great sadness for my patrón .” He tapped his chest. “Sixteen years ago, his only child, the eight-year-old son he adored, was kidnapped and held for ransom.”
    Bandit felt a fleeting touch of envy. He had been a neglected, abused child that nobody wanted. His own old man had never even stepped forward to give him a last name. “So?”
    Romeros rolled the match stem between his teeth as he studied Bandit. “The exchange was botched; the don’s money was not picked up by the kidnappers; the boy was never returned.”
    Bandit swung his leg up across his saddle horn. He felt a sense of rage that anyone could have done such a rotten thing. “Tough!” he said, and absently fingered the beaded, cougar tooth and claw necklace.
    Romeros shrugged. “We’re all sure the kidnappers killed the little boy, buried him somewhere around, close. No one would dare say that to the old man, of course. But as I remember the child, if he had lived to grow up, he might have looked something like you, maybe a little younger. The resemblance is amazing. He was left-handed, too.”
    Bandit paused in tossing away the match. “Now wait just a damned minute; you aren’t suggesting—”
    “Why not?” Romeros leaned forward on his saddle horn. “The old couple would be so eager to believe their son had finally come home, they wouldn’t ask many questions. Believe me, since I care about them both, it’s grieved me all these years to watch them follow each clue, look up hopefully each time there’s a knock at the door.”
    Bandit raised one cynical eyebrow. “Any time someone starts telling me he’s doin’ something out of the goodness of his heart, I always figure that’s the time to watch my money!”
    The half-breed tipped his sombrero back, laughed. “You’re smarter than I thought! Sí! I’ll admit it! If I find the missing son, I’ll be a hero; the old couple will lavish money and an easy life on me. And someday, when they are both dead and you own and control everything, maybe you will find it in your heart to be generous to your benefactor?”
    Bandit considered. “It’s the most loco scheme I ever heard! It can’t possibly work!”
    “You won’t know ’til you try it.”
    “Suppose I don’t like being this heir, young Falcon?”
    “Then disappear again. But believe me, hombre, you’ll like your new mama and papa. Do you really not think you would want to live the life of rich young Tony Falcon? There’s even an heiress he was betrothed to as a child—”
    “I’ll pick my own lady, thank you!” Bandit’s thoughts went to the elegant beauty. Would