As soon as he reached the cave, Zorro strode over to the desk and pulled the letter from the drawer. Again a sense of foreboding washed over him as he held it in his hands. Why had a man risked his life over its contents? What did his old university rival have to do with it? And would it explain why the widow of an old schoolmate bewitched him to the point he forgot he was in love with Victoria?

Shaking off his misgivings, he slid the missive from its envelope. He glanced up at the archway leading to the library fireplace, expecting to see Felipe standing there, with yet another distraction. Expecting. . .or hoping? he asked himself as he removed his hat and mask.

He stared at the folded paper in his hands, almost certain he knew its contents. It was something he had worried about ever since he had begun his masquerade, especially after word of Zorro had reached Madrid. That someone would add up all the facts and come up with the correct answer. One which could cost him his life.

It would not, however, explain his barely controllable carnal response to Violetta, which was the most pressing of all his problems at the moment. He had to figure out a way to deal with his overpowering desire for her before he did something he would regret for the rest of his life.

With a growl of frustration, he shoved the letter back into its envelope, sliding it back into his desk drawer. Diego then got to his feet, walking over to the rack change his clothing.

The next morning, Diego sat next to his father as the elder de la Vega drove their wagon through the pueblo gate. Don Alejandro meant to pick up some nails and wire needed to fix a patch of fence in one of the north pastures. After helping load the supplies, Diego was going to stay in town to finalize the latest issue of the Guardian.

"Whoa!" His father suddenly brought the wagon to a halt just outside the tavern. Diego glanced up to see Señora Gomez, dressed in a dark grey dress, stepped out onto the inn's porch followed her daughter, who was similarly attired. Noting they both held their luggage, he realized Victoria had made good on her promise to evict them from her premises.

"What's going on there, eh, Diego?" asked Don Alejandro, indicating the two women. Diego shrugged as innocently as he could.

"Hola, señoras." The old don greeted the ladies as he climbed down from his vehicle. "You're not leaving town, are you?"

"Oh, no, Señor de la Vega," answered Violetta, clutching her case even tighter. "We are looking for a permanent place here in Los Angeles. Staying here," she twisted her lips distastefully as she glanced over her shoulder at the tavern, "was only ever going to be a temporary arrangement."

"So you found somewhere else to stay?" Diego challenged, knowing she was lying.

"Well, no, not yet," the young widow replied. "We were just going out to look." Violetta glanced from man to man, a mixture of helplessness and misguided determination on her face. "We just have no idea where to even begin," she stated feebly.

"We can help you find a place," the elder de la Vega offered. "Can't we, son?" Diego nodded dumbly, not wanting to contradict his father in public. "And until then, you both are more than welcome to come stay with us at our hacienda."

"N. . ." Diego clamped his mouth shut even though he wanted to shout as loudly as he could. He heard a gasp and looked up to see Victoria had heard his father issue the invitation to the two women. And she appeared to be even less happy about than he was. Furious, in fact.

There was no way he could live under the same roof as the beautiful widow. He could barely control his base urges as it was. To have her there, in his house, in constant contact. . . Oh dear Lord, he would probably have her bedded that evening. But what could he do? Explain his overwhelming attraction to his father? He bit off a laugh at the thought. The elder de la Vega would be sending out wedding invitations before the day was out.

Diego sidled over to Victoria casually yet as quickly as he could. "Tell them they can remain here," he pleaded out of the side of his mouth once he reached her side.

"What?" The innkeeper spun around to glare at him. "I'm not talking to you until you apologize, Diego de la Vega." She turned away from him in a huff.

Apologize for what? he wondered. His momentary confusion vanished as he recalled their previous day's disagreement. "I am truly sorry for my boorish behavior yesterday," he ground out sincerely. "Now, will you tell them they can stay at the tavern?"

"Why should I?" she asked defiantly.

"I don't want them at the hacienda," he admitted.

"She's not my mistress," Diego replied through gritted teeth, hoping that fact would remain true. "Victoria, por favor. Just tell them they can remain. I will do anything you want in return."

"Anything?" she echoed brightly. Her sudden change in demeanor made Diego realize offering her carte blanche was a mistake he would dearly pay for later. But what else could he do? He was desperate.

"Si, anything."

Victoria smiled smugly as she stepped off the porch and approached the wagon where elder de la Vega was loading the señoras' luggage. The old don glanced around then fixed his gaze on his son. "Diego, get over here and help, please."

"That won't be necessary, Don Alejandro," Victoria stated. She turned to the two women. "You can stay at the tavern until you find somewhere else to live," she declared begrudgingly.

"Sorry," Violetta began, "but Señor de la Vega has already graciously offered to let us stay with him."

"But it will be more difficult to secure lodgings when you are so far out of town," Diego said as he ambled over.

"We can always lend them our carriage, son," said his father. "It would be no problem." He then lifted a suitcase into the back of the wagon.

"But. . ." Diego was at a loss for words as he saw his plan evaporate before his eyes. He glanced over at Violetta and her mother and saw the women were resolved in their decision to leave the tavern.

The elder de la Vega was glaring at him meaningfully. With a heavy sigh, Diego picked up a satchel and placed it into the back of the cart. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed de Soto and Mendoza strolling across the plaza together them. Just what this farce needed, two more fools, he thought uncharitably.

"Well, what do we have here?" the alcalde asked as he came to a halt in front of the knot of people surrounding the de la Vega wagon. "It seems I have missed the arrival of two such charming and beautiful ladies in our fair pueblo. My men and I have been out practicing military maneuvers."

"Maneuvers?" repeated the sergeant. "You had us up in the mountains picking blackber. . ."

"Mendoza," de Soto barged in authoritatively, "I need you to go back to the cuartel and count all the bullets."

"All the bullets?"

"Si, every last one of them."

"But, Alcalde. . ." the portly soldier began to whine, but closed his mouth and saluted as his superior stared at him darkly. "Si, mi Alcalde."

As Sergeant Mendoza scurried away, Don Alejandro stepped forward, indicating the pair of widows. "Alcalde, this is Señora Gomez and her daughter, Señora Murillo. Ladies, this is Ignacio de Soto, the alcalde of Los Angeles."

The commandante bowed and kissed the hand of each lady in turn. "Murillo, Murillo," he mulled the name over his tongue. "You are not by chance related to the Murillo family of Madrid, are you, Señora?" he asked with an ingratiating expression.

"Si, my father-in-law is Don Fernando Murillo," she replied, naming the patriarch of the vaulted clan. "I was married to his second son, Antonio, before his untimely death."

"My most sincere condolences," de Soto murmured insincerely before focusing his attention on the de la Vegas. "Correct me if I am mistaken, Diego, but wasn't he a classmate of yours at university?"

"He was," Diego replied through clenched teeth.

"Handsome, devil-may-care fellow," the alcalde began. "Not much of a scholar, as I recall. In fact, there was a friend of mine who sold the answers to exams to those of us in need, and I remember Murillo being one of his best customers." He chuckled darkly.

Diego could not believe de Soto had not only insulted Violetta's dead husband, but had also implied he himself had cheated his way through university.

Don Alejandro stepped into the awkward silence which ensued. "Well, they will be staying with us for the time being, Alcalde. Why don't you come out to the hacienda for dinner tomorrow night? You, too, of course, Victoria." He waved his gloves at the lovely innkeeper.

"Wonderful, I accept," said de Soto.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Victoria replied with an disingenuous smile when the elder de la Vega looked at her inquiringly.

"Good, good," said Don Alejandro, seemingly oblivious to the tension which hung thick in the air.

"Now if you will excuse me, I have important matters to attend to," the alcalde said. He bowed to the ladies then strolled back to the cuartel, whistling tunelessly.

Diego eyed de Soto's back balefully, wishing he could wash his hands of the women so easily. With unnecessary force, he shoved the last of the widows' luggage into the cart. Stepping back, he allowed his father to assist Señora Gomez in the wagon's seat.

"Aren't you coming to the hacienda with us, Diego?" inquired Violetta, gazing up at him coyly and placing her gloved hand on his jacket sleeve. He visibly flinched at her touch, as it sent a frisson of lust through his body. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Victoria glaring indignantly.

Extricating himself from the widow's grasp, he replied, "Unfortunately, no, Señora. I have a deadline. For the newspaper, you see. A deadline, yes." Inwardly, Diego winced at how lame his excuse sounded, never mind it was in fact true.

"Pity," Violetta said. "I guess I must resign myself to sharing your company later this evening then." She beamed up at him prettily. Diego noted when she turned to Victoria, who was now standing beside him, her arms akimbo, the widow's smile didn't diminish but it no longer reached her dark brown eyes.

Seeing his father already sitting beside Señora Gomez, Diego had no choice but to assist Violetta up to sit beside her mother. He could swear he heard Victoria's teeth grinding as his father and the women waved and called out their goodbyes as they drove away.

When the cart had rambled out of sight, Diego turned to the woman next to him, expecting to see anger marring her lovely features. Instead, sly smile slid across her face. "I wonder what I should ask for," she said airily. Her mouth twitched with amusement. "You did say anything, didn't you?"

"Victoria. . ."

"Hmm, I will have to think about this," she said, ignoring the plea in his voice. "So many possibilities." With that, she swirled around and flounced off toward her tavern.

Diego was left standing in the middle of the plaza, feeling as if he had been hit by a whirlwind. No, make that two whirlwinds, two women who were pulling him in opposite directions. What made the situation even more absurd is he knew who held his heart, knew which one he had loved for years. With a shake of his head, he strode over to the inn.

Upon entering the building, he caught of glimpse of Victoria disappearing into the kitchen. Quickening his pace, he darted through the curtains before they had a chance to close behind her.

"Our bargain is null and void," declared Diego, as he stopped just inside the room.

Victoria spun around, surprise then annoyance flickered across her features. "I upheld my end of it," she retorted, crossing her arms over her bosom. "It is hardly my fault if they declined my offer."

"You cannot hold me to this." Diego took a step forward, closing the gap between them.

"I can and I will."

"Victoria. . ."

"Unless you have something else to say besides trying to change my mind, go away, Diego," she said, wiping her hands on her apron. "I have a business to attend to."

"Fine," he replied, inching even nearer. "But just know that anything doesn't really mean anything. I won't kill anyone."

"Oh, like I would ask you to do that." Victoria picked up a knife and began to slice up a tomato. "Who would I want you to kill? That's just silly."

"This whole situation is silly." Diego moved even closer. "You cannot hold me to this."

Victoria rolled her eyes. "I already told you I am," she said, finishing the tomato before she set down her knife. "You are not going to change my mind, Diego. Why don't you run along and see how your little widow is doing." She smiled at him cattily.

"She is not ‘my little widow'."

"Not yet anyway."

"You and I are just friends, as you have pointed out many, many times" Diego said bitterly." Only yesterday you told me you weren't jealous of her. So why would you care if I did have an interest in Violetta?" He deliberately mentioned the other woman's name, just to gauge her reaction.

Her face paled, then reddened as her eyes widened in shock. "I. . .I. . .I don't care," she stammered as she glanced away, picking up her knife again. "Marry her for all I care." Grabbing blindly for a pepper, her hand closed on one, and she started chopping it so viciously Diego had to resist the urge to cover up a certain area of his anatomy.

"I am hardly going to marry a woman I have just met," he stated. "I would need to spend a lot more time with a woman before I would make a life long commitment to her."

"Oh." Victoria set down her knife and wiped her hands. "Oh, I just thought of the perfect thing."

Diego narrowed his eyes at her. "What?"

She smiled smugly at him. "Of what you can do for me," she declared. "You can help me find out who Zorro is."