Rated R-- Strong sexual Content
If you are under 16 do not read!
Prologue
There was a fierceness in the lean strength of his body pressed against hers, an intense aggressiveness that stirred a strange feeling very much like hunger, but far deeper. As the power of his body moved to thrust into hers, then drag away only to thrust again, that hunger grew until it was almost insatiable. She clawed at his back and he bit her earlobe. This man was not gentle. He was not playful. He was base, and that was how she liked her men.
Helen reached up into the silky softness of his dark hair and grasped the strands with both her hands, jerking his head back, exposing the strong column of his neck. She sank her teeth into his skin there, laving the wounds she made before moving on to inflict more. He sprang abruptly to his knees and then off the bed, startling her. The moonlight that simmered in from the lone porthole cast his face in the shadows but she felt the glare of those caramel-colored eyes.
She laughed softly, arching her back as she did so. Helen was rewarded quickly when he seized her wrist in a powerful grasp and dragged her across the mattress and to her knees. She did not cry out or struggle. After all, this was what she wanted. Her hand slid up his chest, fingers curling into his chest hair and pulling, her nails scratching.
“Stop it!” Helen shivered at the brutal fury in his words. The deepness of his voice was almost reminiscent of a feral grunt. He demanded and expected. And Helen already knew he would win . . . and that was why she had chosen him. That and because he had once belong to Tessa Noel!
What a prize she had caught for herself on the docks of Le Havre. She had been amazed at how easily he had fallen in with her plans when she had approached him. This man had definitely changed. She had first seen him in the spring of 1993. He and her old friend had walked hand in hand away from the church where father Darius gave communion. Helen had followed them. Two blocks away they came upon a small sidewalk café.
The love felt between them was obvious. The joy in both their eyes as they looked at each other spoke of the pleasure they took in being together. He had been gentle in the way he touched her. He had presented Tessa with flowers, a warm, sensuous smile curving his lips. A smile that was private and meant for only Tessa.
Helen had wanted that smile for herself. Her family had been rich, while the Noels had only a modest income to speak of, yet it had always seemed to Helen that Tessa's possessions shown brighter, just as that tall, sleekly built man at her side seemed more alluring than any man of Helen's intimate acquaintance. It was not the first time she had craved something that belonged to Tessa. Throughout their childhood together she had found ways to take things from Tessa. To make those things hers. That was the reason Tessa was no longer “friends” with her.
And now the woman was dead! And her man . . . A smiled curved Helen lips and her eyes gleamed. Ah, Tessa's man belonged to her now . . . at least until his dark eyes fell on another woman he wanted more.
It had been an eye opening experience for Helen when her small yacht docked in San Sebastián, on the northern coast of Spain just south of the French border. He had simply left her flat! It had taken her almost a week to come to terms with that, then a few more days to track him down. It had not been hard finding him. And if Helen had not remembered Duncan Macleod as a more refined man, she would have guessed sooner that he could be found in the arms of some overheated bitch. Alas, he had been in the arms of two overheated bitches, and it had taken all of Helen's considerable persuasive qualitites to lure him back to her yacht. They had set sail for Cadiz immediately.
This man did seem to have an insatiable urge for sex. He used it almost as a means of escape. He was a clear contradiction of the man Helen had remembered. It was not fair, she fumed, that she had Tessa's man, but not the very same man! The man she had gotten had demons inside him. Demons that were not there in 1993. Demons that only seemed to leave him when he was having sex or sleeping.
Helen shivered again as her eyes clashed with the fury and anger gleaming from depths of his eyes. She heard his laughter, but it was not a joyous sound, it was mocking and very similar to the dark feral sound made by some half-crazed beast. He frightened her when he was like this.
His long fingers were still wrapped around her wrist. This touch was harsh and abrasive. Helen had learned how to soften his touch. She leaned against him and wrapped her free arm around his waist, pulling him down onto the bed with her. She watched his eyes, seeing the rage disappear, watching the desire and raw, naked lust return. She could only guess at the emotions that twisted inside him. She could only guess at what struggles, lay beneath the fury and rage he felt and displayed without warning.
He was unpredictable. He was dangerous. There was no telling what he would do or to whom he would do it. He was a man with deep dark secrets and the only way Helen knew to free him of them, if only temporally, was to drag him down and claim him in the sexual act.
****
The air of Seville was warm and scented with the sweet smell of flowers, and the rankness of sweat as crowds of people jostled each other on the narrow streets. It was the week of the grand fair - the feria-and from all over Spain people had traveled here to take part in the festivities. It was even rumored that one of Spain's movie actresses and her closest intimates were here in disguise.
“You will notice that they are all young and handsome?” Simone Pizarro whispered to Lily. “Elena Godoy likes good-looking young men around her. Why Esteban Ferrer was nothing but a part-time gardener when Elena's eye fell on him-and now, they say, he is the real force behind her career!” She jostled her friend with her elbow. “Hey, wake up! Don't tell me we have traveled all this way to meet her and you have changed your mind!”
“Of course not. You should know better than that! I really am very excited!”
“Well then, you might show it! Stop wearing that dreaming look; We must find a way to get close, and try smiling. It is not too hard, once you get use to it, you know! Look, those two men are trying to flirt with us.”
Simone gave a high-pitched giggle and a toss of her dark head as the two women, barefoot and brightly clad, ran past a group of men who stopped talking to stare after them, giving low, admiring whistles.
Simone was right, Lily told herself as, head lowered, she hurried after her friend. She had made her choice to come here, and she was here of her own free will-in spite of the grumbling and head shaking of Mother Luisa.
But why did she find it so difficult to adjust to Simone's carefree way of life? Without realizing it, the years spent in the Catholic girl's school near Ronda, Spain had left their mark. She could not help feeling curiously lost and frightened without the security of those walls to enfold her and the slow disciplined days when her every movement had been planned for her.
Of course, staying at the school, even if it were to teach French to the pupils could not continue forever. The time had come for her to decide which path her life would take. The path of chastity and devotion that the sisters followed, or a life that would bring the joys and pains of mortal love. Mother Luisa insisted that a test was needed for her to be able to decide her path, and so Lily had agreed to spend the next year in Seville with the Pizarro family.
They had reached Simone's home on the outskirts of the city, and Antonio Pizarro came to meet them, his dark face sulky, his eyes burning Lily's hot, flushed face.
“You took long enough, you two! What have you been up to?”
Leaving Simone to shout angrily at him that it wasn't any of his business, Lily caught back her own sigh of annoyance. Antonio was another of her problems. She had been a child the last time she has seen him, but now, he made her only too aware of the fact that she was a mature woman. His eyes followed her constantly, and he was forever trying to catch her alone in some dark corner, caressing her bare arm with his rough hands as he whispered to her that he adored her, he always had, and would kill any other man who tried to touch her.
Lily told Simone but she was only amused. `And no, she did not think her brother was `loco'.' She had laughed, shrugging casually. “That Antonio! He's a hot-blooded one, eh? If you don't want some of him, my little innocent-stick close to me.”
But how long could she continue to elude Antonio? Hot-blooded or not, it wasn't normal. Antonio had not really known her when they were children, and now, he had taken one look at her and decided he was in love! And because of that love, he thought she should be in love with him, too!
Now, ignoring his sister's screeching, he strode up to Lily and grabbed her wrist. “You'd better not have been flirting, Lily! Tonight when we dance as my gypsy ancestors did more than a hundred years ago, I want you to stay in the background! Remember that I don't want any other man looking at my golden beauty.”
She snatched herself from his grasp, imitating Simone's sharpness.
I”m not yours-I'm not anyone's property! And you had better run back to Blanca-run quickly! Go on!”
“That right-tell him off!” Laughing, Simone linked arms with her, sticking her tongue out at her brother as she did so. “Come on, we've got things to do.”
“You are jealous!” He called after them. The glowering look on his face belying his light tone.
She told herself that Antonio was the cause of her mood of depression. If only he would leave her alone. He tried to make her feel insecure, as if she needed him to look after her. But she could look after herself-of course she could! Like Simone, she had taken to carrying a small knife strapped to her thigh, and Antonio knew she would not hesitate to use it on him. Oh, how she hated men! Beasts, all of them, with only one thing on their minds.
The other members of the Pizarro family were all busy preparing for the famous horse fair, which formed a climax to the Holy Week celebrations. On a piece of flat land between the Rio Guadalquiver and the city of Seville, they had set up tents and several decorative wagons. The place looked like a gypsy encampment, and Lily and Simone dressed accordingly, in colorful full-length skirts and loose peasant blouses. This had become an annual event, made popular because there was the dancing of the plaintive, quavering Flamenco - song of love and sadness that the Moors had bequeathed to Spain.
At any other time, Lily would have been caught up in the excitement of it all, just as the others were. Yet, last year at this time she had spent Holy Week in the school. And her evenings were not filled with dancing to wild music in the flickering torchlight, but praying in solitude. All this festivity and frantic air of gaiety seemed strange and almost sacrilegious to her.
`I am just not used to so many people,' she told herself, and to please Simone, who had been so kind to her, she forced herself to smile and laugh and even to flirt with some bolder men. This, of course, proved to be a mistake. Antonio confronted her over it, and Lily ran from him, running away from the lights and the music, running so blindly that she almost cannoned into a group of newcomers walking from the direction of the river.
In her headlong flight she had lost her head scarf, and her hair newly washed that evening, slipped from the careless knot at the back of her neck, to fall in curls about her shoulders. In the faint light, she looked like a wild, tawny animal, too shy to be tamed.
“Here's a piece of luck! A runaway gypsy wench with hair the color of the Castilian plains! Perhaps she'll act as our guide tonight.”
There were women among them, their flimsy, yet expensive dresses mocking the gypsy costume she wore. Jewels winked around white necks, and they laughed as loud as the men.
“Don't run off, girl! We're here to watch the dancing. Don't let her run away. Look at her hair, isn't that an unusual color?”
A man caught her around the waist, holding her captive in spite of her frantic struggles.
“Hold still, querido! No one's going to hurt you. Here, perhaps this will persuade you to calm down!”
Still laughing, he slipped a coin between her breasts. One of the women said in a wheedling, husky voice, “Really, I assure you we don't mean you any harm. But we're all strangers here, and we'd pay you well if you'll act as our guide. We want to join in the dancing-do you think your group of performers would mind?”
There was wine on the woman's breath as she leaned close and Lily tried to control the shudder that shook her whole body, feeling her breath cut off by the pressure of the arm that still held her close to a hard, masculine body. Her frantic, darting eyes had fallen on Elena Goday and she suddenly realized who these people were. If rumor held true, Elena was out looking for anything that would amuse her. And she would only provide a source of further amusement for Elena if she continued to struggle.
“Come- we'll pay you well. Very well. Who were you running from? A too-ardent lover or the law? We'll protect you!”
The man who spoke gave a laugh that sounded strangely familiar. He added petulantly, “Por Dios, amigo, don't be so selfish! You've done nothing but drink and look sullen all evening, and now you won't share the spoils! Perhaps our little gypsy will give us a private performance later-what do you say?”
Lily felt, rather than heard, their inane talk and laughter pass over and around her. Without quite realizing what was happening, she found herself dragged along with them, as if she had been a rag doll with no feelings and no understanding-a new toy to amuse themselves with. She felt as dazed as if she had actually turned into wood. While some deep-rooted instinct of pride held her silent. She would not cry and plead with them to let her go! At least they were moving toward the lights and the music. Suddenly she thought of Antonio, and for once felt relieved that he was so jealous. He'd rescue her! She stopped resisting and tried to ignore the laughing comments of her tormentors.
“You see? She's quite resigned now-quite tame. It must be your charm . . .”
“I wonder if she's a deaf-mute? Really-she hasn't said one single word!”
“Don't be afraid. You'll find us generous-and especially if you'll dance for us.”
The man whose steely arm still encircled her waist said suddenly, “I think she's frightened half to death. Perhaps she'll learn to talk back to us after she's had some wine.”
He spoke with a strange drawling accent she could not place. His voice was deep and littered with emotion.
They came at last into the flickering circle of lights and while the sudden burst of hand clapping caught everyone's attention as the guitars strummed wildly bringing a dance to its climax, Lily dared a nervous upward glance.
Her breath caught in her throat when she encountered his eyes. They were like shards of splintered, glittering glass, piercing her, and she could not prevent her instinctive, shrinking movement.
His arm tightened, and he gave a soft, mocking laugh.
“Not trying to run away are you, golden eyes? It's too late now that you've come this far with us. My companions find you fascinating, you know.”
One of the other men chuckled, overhearing, “And so do you, obviously! I vow, Duncan, that I have never seen you exert yourself before to catch a woman. Perhaps it is only the thrill of a chase and a capture that you enjoy?”
“Perhaps! And this one, with her golden mane and the half-shy, half-wicked look in her eyes, reminds me of a mountain cat. Would you enjoy using your claws on me, menina?”
Taunted into fury by the mockery in his voice, Lily tilted her head to glare at him.
“I would like to do worse! To stick a knife between your ribs and watch you bleed--”
“Dios! Not a mountain cat, my friend, but a wildcat!”
“I don't think so,” the other drawled infuriatingly, and through her rage-slitted eyes Lily could see one corner of his mouth twitch in a grin. “I think she means to challenge me.”
“Ohh! You-you--” Catching the sarcastically expectant look on his dark face Lily bit her words off short. She would not give him the satisfaction of hearing her swear at him. She would merely bide her time and run away to lose herself in the crowd that now milled around them-some still watching the dancers and others glancing curiously at the new arrivals. Ignoring her captor, she began to search frantically for the sight of a familiar face. Where was Simone? And above all, where was Antonio? The music was so loud that even if she screamed aloud no one would hear her! How dare these people treat her as if she were a new plaything to amuse their jaded appetites?
She noticed for the first time, with a sense of fearful foreboding, that their small group was far too well escorted. In the light, bodyguards who were apparently well armed, formed a kind of phalanx about the Spanish actress.
One of the women, wearing a deep velvet sheath dress kept glancing in their direction, and now as they came to a stop she said in a rather petulant voice, “Duncan, surely you don't need to hold on so tightly to the woman? Give her some more money and ask her if she'll go back with us tonight, to dance for us on my yacht. But for the moment, let her go, you are with me, after all!” And now the dark-haired woman addressed Lily directly. “Do you have any suggestions, eh? We are here to have fun. What do you do to amuse yourself when you are not running away?”
Lily stubbornly remained silent, but the woman refused to be diverted, and spoke to her with growing impatience. “Surely you can speak? Where are your friends? Perhaps they can join us, too. The music makes me want to dance. Do you think we could join in?”
They had somehow pressed forward to the very fringes of the crowd that had formed around the dancers and the musicians. Sheer desperation made speech return to her paralyzed tongue.
“I see some of my friends now. There-- that is my stepsister who is dancing in the center now-the one with the long black hair. Her name is Simone. And that is my fiancé over there, playing the guitar with the red ribbons. Sadly, we quarreled, and that is why I ran, hoping he would follow.”
Again, irresistibly, she slanted an upward look at the man who held her so firmly. What strange, frightening eyes he had! They were truly like glass, reflecting every shade of the fire and smoldering torches while revealing nothing. The black full length coat he wore gave him an alarmingly sinister appearance, as did the bulge of a sheathed sword, which she felt pressed against her hip. What was this man doing with a sword in this day and age?
“If the senor would let me go, I will dance for you all! And perhaps later, if you will, Simone will tell your fortunes. She is very good.”
“See? She can talk after all! And prettily too. Do let her dance, Duncan-she's lost her fear of us now, haven't you?”
“Oh, I was only startled,” Lily said demurely. She let her eyes drop shyly as she shrugged. “And a little bit afraid-because my fiancé is very jealous, you see!”
She felt a warm hand slide up over her breast, and she squirmed away angrily.
“Little liar!” He whispered and she felt the heat of his mouth as he kissed the sensitive skin below her ear. “I've a good mind to see how jealous this lover of yours is.”
But the others were calling to him to let her dance for them, and he had to release her. With a mocking half-curtsy she whirled away from them, clicking her fingers in rhythm to the frenetic music.
“Aren't you afraid she will get away from you?” Diego Gonzalez whispered maliciously into Duncan's ear. “She seemed only too anxious to get back to that black-brow lout there!”
“I can see her so she's not completely lost to me. And I think she is only playing hard to get, perhaps to put her price up!”
“My God, you really don't like women, do you?”
“I've loved my share of them. Why does liking have to come into it? They are all the same-sly, teasing bitches. Every single one asks for exactly what she gets!”
“Well, don't let our little celebrity hear you say that! Helen is Elena's very best friend! She's made it clear that you are hers, hasn't she? You'd better take care, my friend.”
Duncan had folded his arms, his caramel colored eyes following the tawny haired woman as she made her way to the center of the crowd of dancers.
“Oh, I expect to have Elena Goday's bodyguards aid in recapturing that elusive golden-eyed witch if she's really bent on escape. She's got two of her bodyguards keeping an eye on her already, or hadn't you noticed?”
Lily had danced her way to Simone's side, and now, ignoring her friend's surprised look, she began, in a breathless, angry voice, to pour out her story, keeping a fixed smile on her face all the while.
“You cannot imagine how-how arrogantly nasty they all were! Talking about me as if I was nothing more than a block of wood, without feelings. Taking all kinds of familiarities with me!” She shuddered, recalling a warm hand cupping her breast so intimately. “And to make matters worse, the celebrity-what is her name? Elena? Yes, she has bodyguards and I think they are watching me!”
“I think you have a crazy imagination,” Simone murmured. But her voice was doubtful, and she added in the next breath, “Well, she may have bodyguards. Listen, then, if you are so scared, why don't you slip into one of the wagons? I will go up to them, myself and tell them you sent me. I'm not afraid, and if they are throwing around money, I could use some!”
“Simone!”
“You are too innocent,” Simone mocked, and smiled, “when will you learn that you cannot hide away from men? You are beautiful and they are going to notice! Be smart like me, use them while letting them think they are using you. You'd better learn--”
“Simone, let's both go into one of the wagons. Now, when they can't see us. I don't trust them-and besides--”
Simone turned her head, her black eyes laughing. “And besides what? I've already told you that I can take care of myself. And that handsome caballero I saw you running away from just might want me to console him.”
“Oh, stop!” Lily, suddenly frantic, clutched at Simone's bare arm. “We'd better hide somewhere before they-before he-. You see, he made me so angry, the way he was pulling me about, that I-I picked his pocket!”
For a moment, in the midst of all the noise, the clapping and the gaiety that surrounded them, they seemed to be enclosed in silence.
“You did what?” Simone threw back her head with a wild, admiring laugh. “Oh, but you are priceless! No-you are crazy!” She grabbed Lily's wrist, starting to pull her away into the shadows. “What on earth possessed you? Under the very eyes of Elena's bodyguards? You could be arrested and thrown into a cell! Don't you understand? Picking the pocket of some stranger on the street is one thing, but a friend of Elena's? They'd recognize you in an instant if they came looking for you! Quick, you must throw it away. Wait-does it contain a lot of money, this wallet you stole?”
Simone's eyes gleamed with a mixture of avarice and fear. In the torchlight they seemed to glow as red as coals.
“How would I know? I didn't think about the money-I just wanted to teach him a lesson. And since you're not afraid, why don't you take it back to him? Tell him you found it--”
“I might just do that! I've needed a reason to approach Elena, and your victim is very handsome. Where's that wallet?”
Already beginning to regret her defiant gesture, Lily handed it to her friend without a word-glad to be rid of it. If only she could be rid of the memory of those bold, rude caresses as well!
“So, now you are taking money for your favors, eh? Is that why you kept me at arm's length, because I was not rich enough to buy you?”
Antonio had materialized out of nowhere, his dark face glowering with rage. “I saw you!” he growled. “Leaning up against that stranger, his arm about your waist and his hands moving freely! Where did you meet him? Ah, you should not have brought him here, to flaunt before me, for I shall kill him!”
“Here's another stupid one! Well, I shall leave you to explain to my dim-witted brother while I see what I can do to prevent trouble. Don't forget to tell him you picked the man's pocket because he got fresh with you!”
Simone danced off, and Antonio, his frown growing ever blacker, caught Lily's arm in a grip that made her wince.
“Yes. Tell me what you have been up to, nina! What was my sister talking about just now?”
******
There was the moonlight and the firelight and the torches that flickered like live tongues. Lily was no longer herself but someone else. Antonio's accusations had riled her temper and now she was a bold-eyed, bold-tongued woman like Simone so often was. Lily had tied a brightly colored scarf over her head again, but it did not disguise the tawny hair that rippled almost to her waist.
“If you are innocent still, then prove it!” Antonio had hissed. “If he has not had you yet he will be eager for you. Lead him away from the others; flirt with him if you must. No more than that-I will see to the rest!”
Antonio had made it sound so easy! Here he was offering to protect her when not too long ago she had felt she needed protection from him. What did it matter? She knew Antonio and felt sure of her power over him. The other man was a very different proposition. He frightened her, while his eyes seemed to look right through her! Was that perhaps one of the things that made her dislike him? That he didn't see her? That she was nothing to him, but something helpless that he could torment?
She sensed a dual personality from within him. His voice had been so deep with seething emotions. His eyes so wild at times with fury, but his hold on her had never been painful. Lily frowned, shaking these thoughts away! She didn't want to find something good in the man! He was insolent and far too sure of himself-and her! He was like Lucifer! Handsome but deceptive!
Facing him again was harder than she had thought it might be, even though he was alone at the moment. He had been lifting a wine bottle to his mouth, and when he lowered it and saw her, one dark eyebrow shot up in mock surprise.
“Oh, so you're back. Have you come to give me what I have already paid for and are you worth it?”
She saw no sign of Simone. Had she told him, or had he discovered his loss for himself?
“Why not find out? I wanted you to take notice of me! I do not like crowds. They make me feel stifled, and-and trapped. And I do not like being made fun of, either.”
“Should I apologize for my friends and myself?” He smiled tightly, offering her the half-empty wine bottle. “Here, now that we are alone, shall we drink to an understanding? I didn't expect to see you back, but here you are, which proves that I am as ignorant as the next man when it comes to the whims of a woman!”
She shook her head, refusing the wine. “No, I am not use to drinking,” she offered, and then tried his name, “Duncan.”
“But an expert at picking pockets? You continue to surprise me.”
Lily felt the hot blood rush to her face, but refused to give ground. “Yes, certainly! But isn't that only what you were expecting? The very worst. You made that clear, all of you, when you kept talking of me as if I had no ears.”
A sudden brightness leaped into the caramel depths of his eyes, stabbing into hers like a flash of lightening. “Ole!” He said it softly, tilting the bottle to his lips again and then lowering it slowly. “So you are a woman of emotion after all. You breathe, you feel, and you even think, it seems. Good. We have established that much, at least. Also, your price-which is high. I warn you, I shall expect a great deal in return . . . “
Without warning, Lily found her waist encircled by a steely arm. Before she could protest, she was drawn against him tasting, unwillingly, the wine on his breath as he forced her head back with his brutal kiss.
Instinctively, she struggled against him, hands pushing futilely against his broad shoulders. It was horrible! To be kissed like a common whore, without consideration for her feelings. First he insulted her and then he kissed her.
Lily kept her teeth tightly clenched together and kept twisting her head from side to side, trying to avoid the bruising pressure of his mouth on hers. In spite of her frantic struggles she felt herself drawn against his body. His full length coat was open down the front, and she felt stifled in its folds; she was terrified by the pressure of his lean, masculine body all the way down hers. Her neck would surely break in another moment, and she could not breathe. There was a buzzing in her ears and she was no longer capable of resisting him, even when some faraway part of her mind realized that he had slipped her thin blouse off her shoulder and was fondling her breasts. Her body lay limply against his, trembling with reaction. When she opened her mouth to gasp for breath, his tongue forced its way between her lips, bringing a renewal of her feeble attempts to turn her face away.
Did he actually intend to force himself on her here, with everyone looking on? What a callous, unfeeling brute this man was to use her this way as if she had been some whore he picked up for the night.
Just when she felt that she was about to faint, he lifted his head slightly. Lily saw that his eyes had darkened and like twin mirrors she could see her own flushed, terrified reflection. Remembering old stories about the devil coming to earth in human disguise in order to seduce women, she felt an overwhelming urge to cross herself.
She half gasped and half moaned and saw the cynical, almost sneering smile that flickered across his clean-shaven face.
“Be assured that we will settle this. Tonight I do not feel inclined for the usual tussle-nor for the usual preliminaries. Come along now, and let's have no more games, eh?”
Her knees were so weak from the erotic assault he had just orchestrated upon her innocent senses that she would have fallen if he had not seized her around the waist. He was taking her back to his friends, and she would never escape if she did not use her wits as she had meant to do in the beginning.
“No!” She pulled back, not having to feign the breathlessness of her tone. “Please, Duncan, not back to those friends of yours who laugh and make fun of me! There is a gypsy wagon, it is not far, and it is empty--”
“What a changeable, surprising woman you are,” he said softly, as his arm tightened around her waist. “One moment you act as if my kisses disgust you, and the next-you're as hot as fire!”
She said quickly, “I am very independent. I like to choose my own lovers” She prayed that her voice sounded flirtatious enough as she allowed herself to sway against him. “But as you have pointed out, I have already chosen you!”
She dared not look into his eyes again as they strolled toward the outskirts of the crowd that now pressed more and more closely about the whirling dancers.
“Please-act casual. I do not want my fiancé to notice,” she murmured. Lily trembled inside as she wondered if he actually believed the lies she was feeding him! Ignoring the remembered tingle his touch had awaken in her, she thought only of how he had tried to control her. Viciously, Lily hoped that Antonio and his friends would teach this man a lesson he would never forget.
They were being jostled by people who were eager to see what was going on. The rumors had already begun to fly that Elena Goday was here in disguise, along with Helen Servetus, who was fond of taking lovers from her many fans.
Lily's lips felt heavy and swollen, and her breasts seemed to burn from the casual, all to knowing caresses she had been forced to endure. She didn't want to admit that if she had only relaxed and returned his kisses, she might have found pleasure in the encounter. She didn't want to think about what would happen if they did not meet up with Antonio. Where was he? Pray God he'd rescue her soon.
No one took any notice of them, not even when Antonio himself, as if conjured up by her thoughts, appeared suddenly to bar their way. His dark features were suffused with fury, and his hand lay threateningly on the knife in his waistband. Behind him, Lily noticed two of his friends carrying wooden bats.
“So! This is what you've been doing behind my back! I should not have expected a woman like you to be satisfied with just one lover. Or was it his money and fine looks that attracted you? Bitch! I saw you kissing him as if you could not bear to tear yourself away. And as for you, senor, I think that after tonight you'll think twice . . .”
His tirade and his rage seemed all too real, and Lily could not help shrinking involuntarily. Through widening eyes she saw the other two men move silently to either side of Antonio as he drew his knife.
“No!” Lily wanted to scream. This was crazy! This was insane! She had thought Antonio would hit this man with his fists, not use a knife. She didn't want this man dead!
“I think I will mark up your face first,” he snarled, “before I allow my friends to beat you within an inch of your life. Pretty boys like you should stick to your own kind!”
“I wondered when you would appear.” Lily heard the drawling, dryly sarcastic voice and tried to tear herself away, but with a quick jerk of his arm he held her before him, and she felt something cold against her side. She saw the men freeze as the drawling voice continued in a conversational manner, “I have not had enough practice of late with my sword! Which of you wants to go first? Come, come, gentlemen, I'm anxious for the confrontation . . . ”
Lily felt the hair at the back of her neck prickle, and she stood rigidly, hardly daring to breathe. He meant it! There had been a steely undertone to his voice that made her certain he would have no compunction about killing.
“You had no right to walk off with my woman,” Antonio blustered uneasily, his eyes darting this way and that, and at almost the same moment a voice behind them made him jump.
“What is going on there?” Two pistol packing bodyguards had come up, their sternly frowning faces taking in the whole picture. “Were these men attempting to rob you, Duncan? A good thing, Elena Goday ordered us to keep an eye on this woman. It's a favorite trick among these people--”
“But one I had half-expected already. No. I don't think there's any need to seek the police and have them arrested. I don't think they'll be in a hurry to pull this kind of stunt again.”
“Get going, you three! And if I see you near Elena Goday and any in her party again, we'll find a nice cold cell to throw you in!”
Antonio's friends had already taken to their heels, and now, with a last frustrated backward glance, Antonio disappeared into the crowd.
With a desperation born of sheer terror, Lily tried to twist free. “Let me go! You have no right to keep me here!” She raised imploring eyes to the suddenly impassive faces of the two bodyguards. “Please! They were only trying to save me from the unwelcome touch of this-this lecher! And he is crazy! He threatened them with a sword!”
“What an accomplished liar she is! Listen, young woman, picking pockets could get you in a lot of trouble! Not more than a century ago you could lose a hand for what you have done! We've been watching you.”
“Here-you had better keep a closer eye on her this time. I've no mind to spend the rest of the night dodging her jealous lovers-and her nimble fingers!” Lily felt herself shoved forward, only to have her arm grasped roughly by a firm grip.
“Better search her for a knife, too-she threatened once to stick me with it.”
“Shall we bring her along to the yacht?”
Straightening out his clothes, Duncan shrugged, but his caramel colored eyes had gone narrow.
“Why not? I hate being made to pay in advance for something I haven't received yet. Maybe she'll be more tractable in a few hours' time.”
With a dazed feeling of disbelief, Lily watched him walk away, leaving her to these rough men, to be treated like a common prisoner. No, this could not be happening to her! Perhaps if she closed her eyes she would wake to find herself in Ronda asleep in her bed, safe behind the Catholic School walls.
As the two men lead her away from the lights and crowd, she began to sob helplessly. The voice that spoke to her wasn't too unkind.
“Now, now! There's no point in shedding tears! Count yourself luck Senor Macleod didn't tell us to call the police! You might spend the rest of your life with the crime of thievery following you! He has decided to misconstrued why you stole from him, and if you behave yourself and do as you are told, he will allow you to keep the money in the wallet. Now-where's that knife hidden? Better tell us, or we will take you some place private and strip you.”
She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out with revulsion when a rough hand groped up her thigh.
“What a dangerous little weapon! You could kill someone with this, and then you would spend a lifetime in jail. Have you ever been in jail? Come along now. A good thing you have enough sense not to scream or make a scene. That's right. And just think, you'll get to board Helen Servetus' beautiful yacht! You are very lucky!”
*****
The lopsided moon dropped lower and lower and the rocking motion of the yacht made her feel sick. Almost as sick as the conversation of her captors, as they discussed their employers, and reminisced about other evenings when they had waited much like they were doing now for Elena Goday to return from a wild night of clubbing and slumming.
Lily shivered, hugging her arms as she stared out into the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean. She had been shoved into a stretch limousine after the knife was taken from her. They had driven to Cadiz where Helen's yacht was docked. Elena and her companions had finally shown up on the yacht just a few moments ago. Lily huddled against the rail hoping to be ignored amongst the dim lights and gay, wine-slurred voices. Duncan found her, however, and raised a half-empty bottle of Merlot to her lips. She ran her tongue repeatedly across her lips, trying to sweep away the sweet sour taste of the wine. She met his eyes, the devil's eyes as they glowed, not as red hot coals, but like a deep rich caramel brown.
His arm came around her, holding her tightly against him. She wondered if she looked as terrified and she felt. Her ear rested at the place where his heart was and she listened to the temple of his heartbeat, rather than Helen Servetus' plaintive voice.
“The foolish creature! What did she hope to gain?” The sulky voice continued, “I can't understand why you bother with her, Duncan! After all, I can provide you far more pleasure than she could ever hope to, and besides, darling, she is a thief!”
“Go to bed, Helen! You are drunk.”
His voice was cold and hard. Lily shivered against him and his arm tightened.
“This is my yacht! I--”
“Helen, really!” This from a husky, accented female voice. “Duncan will do what he wants regardless of what you say, have you not realized that yet, stupid one! He is my guest and he seems to find her intriguing, and perhaps something of a challenge?” She paused, then laughed softly, “Come Elena, you can join me and Diego.”
“I'd think you would not want one who is so innocent,” Helen snapped. “Or is it the animal in you that always looks for a capture instead of a prize that's willingly given?”
“Ah, yes! That, and the pirate in him,” Elena said softly and reached for Helen's hand. “Come let him have his way with her, while we have our way with Diego.”
Lily listened and wondered, what Elena was talking about and whether this man really was some kind of modern day pirate! She could believe it! He carried a sword, and while she had not seen it, she knew it was long and must be lethal looking.
She heard the others move below and still she clung to him, her hands on his shoulders, her ear to his heart. His scent enveloped her as he continued to hold her, his gaze captured on the view of the open ocean. He was such a contradiction! Handsome, sensual and comforting now, harsh, sarcastic and hateful earlier. And why did it all seem so forced, as if he fought some inner demon. As if what he did was not what he wanted to do?
Is this the way men were then? Lily had been hiding out behind the protective walls in Ronda for nearly ten years. She only had experience with adolescent boys who only thought of kissing her and maybe stealing a feel from under her blouse. She had lost her virginity at fifteen and a year later her parents had died and she had joined the Catholic school in Ronda. The sisters had finished her education and had allowed her to teach.
She moved her head back to look into his moon-shadowed face and was surprised by the tenderness she saw in his eyes. Never did she think him capable of such an emotion. His hand brushed back strands of her hair from her face and a hand cupped her chin, angling her to meet the burn of his lips. Abruptly, he lifted her up into his arms and she closed her eyes, resting her head against his shoulder, feeling the cool evening breeze wash over her.
She giggled. This was ridiculous! She was dreaming that she had been carried off by a dangerous-looking pirate, a scarf tied over his head and a black patch covering one eye. He was going to make her walk the plank, but instead of the icy shock of sea-water closing over her head she fell onto something soft and so comfortable. She felt so sleepy!
She thought she heard the door slam, and she knew she was locked in with him. She shivered in her sleep, murmuring incoherently. A warm body curled around hers, and the weight of an arm encompassed her waist. She sighed softly, for some reason not fearing this man anymore. Not in his present mood, and not when such wondrous heat radiated off of him.
The pale dawn light was filtering through the windows when she woke up, feeling the chilly air on her body as the covers were pulled aside. Her eyelids were still so heavy they seemed stuck together, and her limbs felt cramped. But when she tried to move, a heavy weight pressed her down.
“So you're still here, after all! You should have undressed! I'm still half drunk and too tired to have patience with clothes. “
She heard a tearing sound, and was too paralyzed to either move or cry out. Far easier to pretend she was still asleep, that this was not happening to her. A hand passed over her shrinking bare flesh, and she heard him say in a husky voice, “At least your skin is soft, and you're decided not to fight me.”
Her dazed, half-opened eyes stared into desire-narrowed, caramel brown ones without any real comprehension of what was happening, until with a feeling of shock she found her thighs nudged apart. She writhed, gasping, as his fingers touched her intimately, exploring gently. She tensed up in surprise but he continued to just stroke her and she started to relax, actually straining up against the heel of his hand. For a moment his weight lifted as his body was poised over hers, and she thought he would leave her. Her lips parted, only to be covered by his hard demanding mouth, tasting of wine. Her hands closed over his shoulders holding him so he could not leave, and then she felt the heaviness, the thickness and the length of him move up between her legs and she gasped in surprised as her body arched up against his.
Lily moaned helplessly beneath him, writhing with the shock waves of pleasure that ran coursing wildly through her heated body. She bucked against him, wanting only more and her movements seemed to incite him to further passion as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside her, holding her wrists over her head to stop her fingers from digging helplessly into the skin of his shoulders.
Her last thought as she cried out her release into his ear was that, he didn't even know her name! Didn't he care who she was? It was all so very strange! And she realized as she closed her eyes and felt half his weight slide away from her that she didn't really care who he was either. So his name was Duncan. What did that really mean?
His arm drew her closer and she rubbed her nose affectionately against his neck. In a kind of half sleep, she felt his arm pull her closer and she melted against him, finally drifting off into an exhausted sleep.
Duncan lay awake, watching the rise and fall of her chest, drawing in the uniqueness of her scent. He knew she feared him, and yet he had fought back the worse of the demons inside him. The fifteen men who wanted to cut her and watch her bleed. The three other men who wanted to beat her until she screamed for mercy. Bryce Korland was even there, whispering that he should stab her, then set her on fire. One common denominator seemed to be that they all hated women, but still craved them. With a rapist's mentality surely no woman could consider herself safe, and Duncan might have been fighting a losing battle if it he had not found that little piece of himself he had surrendered so long ago. Among the monsters in his brain he had come across the rage and hatred he had surrender to Jim Coltec in that magical place near a stream of holy water in the great northwest. Surprisingly, the pain and hatred that had eaten at him over Little Deer's death had actually strengthened him. He had embraced the rage, the pain, the hatred and with it, some of the protectiveness, love and concern he had felt for Little Deer had surfaced. The love, a true and pure thing, had been strong enough to fight those murdering monsters back, so that at times he almost had complete control over what he did.
That was the problem, however! Almost, didn't mean, always! There were times when one or more would join together and then he wasn't always able to stop what he said or what he did. He had yet to kill anybody and he swore by everything he had once held dear that this innocent tawny-haired woman laying next to him would not suffer.
He had thought she would sneak away and hide. She was incredibly naive and perhaps that is what protected her the most from the monster's inside him, for seeing her so defenseless and frighten had caused him to fight all the harder to subdue her tormentors. Perhaps he needed to keep her near him. For some reason her innocence helped ground him. He drew upon her innocence as if it was food for his soul. He had succeeded this time. Pray God he would in the future.
****
The voices and harsh sounds of arguing had roused Lily out of an uneasy doze, but she was afraid to open her eyes until she was sure those voices were actually coming from outside the room she was in. Then, cautiously, she peeked from behind her long eyelashes. She was lying in an enormous canopied bed, the curtains drawn back far enough to let her catch a glimpse of a rather large and luxuriously furnished room. She remembered the large, looming silhouette of the yacht last night as the limousine pulled up to the pier, but if this room was anything to go by, the vessel must be much larger than a mere pleasure craft.
She stirred uneasily, suddenly becoming aware of her nakedness under a thin sheet that felt like silk against her tingling flesh. And with that first tentative movement all the horrifying memories she had been trying to hold away rushed back. She sat up abruptly and smothered a gasp.
She had really gotten herself into something this time! Goodness! It had been years since she had screwed up this badly, only this time she wouldn't be confronted by her parents, nor were they here to protect her from her own foolishness! Why had she listened to Antonio? She should have known, after meeting Duncan and looking into those cold, gleaming caramel brown eyes, that Antonio and all his friends combined would be no match for him! She should have just hidden in the wagon like Simone had suggested, or better yet, she could have left the festivities for the Pizarro home.
What they had done to her was illegal, wasn't it? They had kidnaped her! First Duncan had grabbed her and refused to let her go, and then later when she came back to trick him, he had order Elena's bodyguards to take her to this boat! It was kidnaping! She could tell the police and have them arrest! And Duncan could tell them that she had stolen his wallet!
Lily had just laid back down on the bed, deep in thought when the door to the room suddenly burst open.
Helen stood there, wet paths from tears marring her makeup, her small hands opening and closing into fists, and pure unadulterate fury in her blue eyes.
“You! Get out!”
Stalking over to a high back chair, she reached for the clothing thrown over it and flung them into Lily's startled face! “You teasing little ramera! You had better hurry or I will gorge your eyes out!”
And with that the woman launched herself at Lily with an enraged hiss. Helen wasn't a weakling by any means, but then neither was Lily. Lily, however was entangled in the sheets, and unprepared for the assault. She caught at Helen's flailing arms, pushed her back, then dodge down for the floor. Rolling to her feet, she noticed the breakfast tray setting on a small table and reached for the knife.
“You'll be sorry you started this!” Helen snarled and from Lily's prone position, half-crouched with the knife held defensively in front of her, she watched Helen extract a switchblade from a concealed pocket and open it, a taunting smile curving her ruby red lips.
“Tessa had him, and now he's mine!” Helen warned her. “Do you really think he wanted you for anything but the pitiful entertainment you must have provided for him last night?”
Lily glared at Helen and she glared back. It wasn't that Lily didn't want to get dressed and leave. She would have gladly if her blouse was not ripped down the center! Even then she would have use safety pins or even string to tie it together. And it wasn't as if Lily wanted to fight this woman over a man who frightened her one moment and gave her startling tenderness and pleasure the next. She wasn't here by her own power, after all! Elena's bodyguards had brought her here. And she was only crouched here with a knife, intent on defending herself, but that nasty comment Helen had just made, riled her temper to no end!
“I am not a ramera!” Lily hissed, “And he is all yours! Why don't you learn how to keep a man first, before attacking another woman because you cannot?”
Helen decided to go for blood. Red lips drawn back from her white teeth, she spat an insult as she lunged forward, the switchblade glittering wickedly. And just for the fraction of an instant its glitter, reflecting into Lily's eyes, almost blinded her. It was only instinct, and the warning that the other woman's hissed invective had given her that enabled her to move fast enough.
As the knife flashed down Lily whirled and threw her body backward against Helen's even as her knife parried. Helen's free hand clutched air as Lily's left hand chopped viciously downward. The switchblade flew out of Helen's numb fingers-she started to fall and found her wrist caught firmly as Lily bent over, allowing the momentum of Helen's forward movement to help her throw the young woman so that she landed a few feet away with a thud that knocked the breath from her.
When she knew what was happening next, Lily was kneeling over her with the knife blade at her throat-knee digging painfully into Helen's belly!
“Make one move and I'll gladly slit your evil, jealous throat,” Lily said through her teeth. Through the blood pounding sickly in her head, Helen was painfully, shamefully aware of the man who had just returned to the room. He clapped his hands in a mock salute and leaned back against the door frame with an amused half-smile curving his lips.
“Ladies!”
Lily tore her glaring eyes free of Helen's prone figure and turned that glare on Duncan.
“You people are insane!” She told him passionately.
She hated the casual way he stood there, the bright, almost evil gleam of amusement glittering from his caramel colored eyes. It was like he almost wanted her to kill Helen. Like a part of him would relish the actual act, and the drama of this young woman's death. As if to test that theory, Lily said, “I want clothing to wear that is not all torn up! Get them for me, Duncan.” When he just continued to watch her, his dark eyes narrowing, she added the threat, “or I will carve up her pretty face!”
His dark thick eyebrow arched over one eye. “Don't toss threats around, menina.”
Lily shivered. That voice-harsh, full of anger, made her throat suddenly to dry to utter another word. Her eyes hung on his, watching the changes in his face as his mood seemed to turn blacker with a dangerous fury she didn't understand.
Abruptly, and maybe wrongly, Lily released Helen and came to her feet. She tossed the knife back on the breakfast tray and walked back to the canopied bed. Helen rolled to her knees and then her feet, sobbing brokenly. She moved toward Duncan as she continued to cry and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face into the curve of his shoulder.
Lily watched them in a detached manner, more than a little overwhelmed by the morning's events. For a young woman who had spent the last ten years of her life on her knees in prayer, her behavior of late was indeed eye opening. What would Mother Luisa say? Duncan's eyes touched Lily's above Helen's head. Lily felt ill, wondering if he really thought she was capable of murder. Her heart sank and she slowly drew the silky sheet up over herself, then laid down and curled up into a tight ball.
She heard the door slam and heard the sound of their departure. Now was the time to gather her clothing and leave. She sprang up and moved off the bed. The skirt slipped on over her hips easily and the torn blouse was tied in the front under her breasts. She searched about for her undergarments, thinking to put on her panties, and tuck the bra into her waistband, but she could not find the articles.
She moved to the door and cracked it, looking down the gangway. All looked clear. Cautiously, she stepped into the passageway and staying close to the wall moved up a small flight of stairs. She lifted her face into the sea breeze coming off the Atlantic and froze.
The docks of Cadiz were but a pin speck on the horizon. She turned her head from side to side, then rushed to the open railing. Oh, God, no! They were at sea! She was trapped! She felt his approach and turned swiftly, her hands holding the railing behind her.
“I need to go home! Don't any of you understand?” Lily cried angrily. “You have no right!”
He shrugged indifferently. “Yes, but you see it's all too late already. I would have seen you home, menina, but Elena had other plans it'd seem for we had left port already when I awakened this morning.”
“Where--”
“France, would be my guess.”
Lily sighed, closing her eyes wearily. She felt him move against her, felt his fingers brush at her hair, finally grabbing it in his fist to hold it out of her face. “What is your name?”
Startled, Lily opened her eyes. He was so close she could smell his warm rich scent. His hair flowed wildly about his shoulders, captured by the sea breeze. Those cold dark eyes had warmed to a melting caramel that matched the softness that had been in his voice.
Who was this man? He was not the same one who had captured her around the waist last night, nor the one who had heartlessly and without concern ordered Elena's bodyguard's to take her to this yacht. That man had been brutal and filled with self-hate. This man was the one who had made love to her early this morning. He had disappeared for a while to be replaced with some other man who was all satirical and cynical as he clapped his hands as if her threatening to kill another was only an amusement for him. But the tender man was back now.
“You do have a name?” he asked with a heart-stopping smile that all but made Lily melt against him.
“Lily.”
“`Tis a beautiful name,” he whispered softly and then his mouth moved warmly against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and opened her mouth to taste him as he suddenly swung her body up into his arms, and carried her down the steps and to the room she had left.
He put her down on the bed, and undressed, taking his time. She watched without being able to help it, remembering earlier this morning, and telling herself that it would feel just as good.
He reached for the waistband of her skirt and slipped it from her. She untied the blouse and shrugged it from her shoulders. She was naked, and he was naked. She hardly knew him, and feared him more times then not, but he was tender now and his flesh was warm against hers, and she didn't want to stop his hands from roving.
Her body was uncharted territory and so was his. This morning he had not taken the time to notice how satiny-soft her flesh was, nor how her skin seemed to quiver under his inquisitive touch. This morning she had not reached out with tentative fingers to stroke him.
He brushed his fingers across her small, taut breasts and felt the tiny engorged nipples spring to prominence under his hands. Now at last she moaned softly as she had this morning when he had first entered her. He kissed her soft mouth feeling her lips tremble and then finally part helplessly, allowing him full rein, so he could make the most of his plunder. He felt her reaching for him, her lips turning demanding. And still he wanted more from her.
He tangled his fingers in her curls, keeping her head still while his lips explored lower-first her breasts and the taste and feel of her nipples, and then, when she was almost mindless, his mouth moved even lower, passing over her taut, quivering belly and the deep surprise of her navel to that femininity he craved and she tried to keep hidden by crossing her legs.
He pulled her thighs apart roughly, taking perverse pleasure in her resistance and pressed his mouth against her moist softness, feeling her tense hips arching before she yielded at last, crying out incoherently until his lips stopped her mouth again and the throbbing ache in his groin found its solace in the pulsating softness of her body.
Lily had never dreamed she could feel this way! She had tried to fight against him at first, because she didn't trust him, because she wasn't sure whether the tender man was in control or the cruel taunting one. She had tried to stay impersonal, and then her body had taken over her mind, rendering her helpless to combat the strange, unusual feelings that he seemed capable of making her feel.
His tongue ravished her mouth and she wanted it. Just as he made her want the hardness of his flesh inside her, forcing an unfamiliar response from her that made her forget everything but assuagement-her legs twined around his, her hands clutching at his muscled flesh, relishing every driving motion of his body against hers, bringing her to that final peak of emotion she had not known existed before this morning.
It had all taken place without a single word, and she fell asleep with his flesh still a part of her, waking drowsily when she felt him swell inside her. This time, too, he held back, kissing and caressing her until every inch of her flesh tingled and she cried out for the fulfillment of the promise his poised, hard-muscled body offered her. She slept again to wake cradled in his arms, the sunlight, warm and golden, falling across them.
Duncan had kept his arms and one leg thrown over her to keep her possessively close to him, and in that first moment of realization when all the memories of what had taken place last night came flooding back, she was unable to move, feeling the heat of her blushes cover her whole body. Slightly and almost fearfully she turned her head, studying his sleeping profile, hardly able to believe even now that this was the same man who she had fought to be free of and had even hoped Antonio would harm. She felt so very different about him now.
She must have moved, or perhaps it was only her suddenly quickening breathing that had aroused him. She felt his arms tighten and his lips brush her forehead, and slanting her eyes upward met his caramel brown, thoughtful gaze.
“You have brought me peace, Lily.” The guarded, cynical look she remembered too well seemed to have been erased from his face, and the sun-wrinkles by his mouth and eyes sprang into prominence as he gave her a lazy grin. Lily found herself smiling back.
“Hmm, yes! I feel deliciously content myself,” she responded demurely, dropping her eyelashes. “Considering how little sleep you allowed me.”
He laughed, and she realized with a sense of shock that she had never heard the rich fullness of his voice before. His laugh was free of mockery and hatred. It wrapped itself around her and made her want to laugh as well.
“It wasn't all my fault,” he countered with a wicked grin and moved to nibble at the side of her neck. “I was attacked.”
“Attacked? I'll show you what attacked is,” she chuckled and turned about, coming up on her knees, the feather pillow clutched in one hand. He caught her by the wrists and first wrestled the pillow away, and then wrestled her down onto the mattress.
“You have energy to spare, I see!”
“Hmm, it's surprising since I haven't eaten a thing for at least a day!” Wiggling under him, enjoying the feel of his skin sliding across her, she grumbled, “Not only am I a prisoner, but I'm being starved as well!”
“I'd take you on deck, menina, but I'm afraid there might be another knife fight!” His teeth flashed in a surely grin as he hopped out of the bed. She watched him stretch leisurely before moving off to a duffle bag where he extracted a pair of jeans and a gray sweater. This was a side to his nature she had never dreamed existed. And yet she was almost afraid to give way, still unsure whether he was to be trusted or not.
Was he playing some subtle game with her? Had he decided to add refinement to his cruelty so that he would catch her off guard? What had made him change so suddenly from a ravenous wolf to a considerate lover? And yet, lying here in the warm sunlight, her body open to his dark eyes, Lily did not want to think. Her body craved the new and unusual sensations he had aroused in her last night. Having only just learned the meaning of desire and fulfillment, she wanted to be carried out of herself again, to reassure herself that such sensations actually existed.
He told her he would return shortly with some food to satisfy the growling in her stomach. When he left the room, he locked the door behind him, and Lily found herself a true prisoner. She didn't think he locked the door to prevent her escape. There was no place she could go on this vessel that he could not find her. She guessed he locked it to protect her, Or maybe, to protect Helen, Lily thought with a small smile. After all, she had won the fight!
Restless, Lily decided to search the room. She despised the gypsy costume. It was a glaring reminder that she had behaved foolishly and gotten herself into this dilemma. There was a small chest of drawers and inside the second drawer she found several feminine articles of clothing. A string bikini, that she would never wear, not for him! Two pairs of shorts and a few different style blouses. She dressed quickly and moved back to the bed to tackle the snarls in her hair.
Her toilette complete, Lily began to pace the room. Her stomach growled loudly as she watched the door, wondering where he was with that food. Had it only been a few minutes since he left, or more like two hours? She didn't know but she needed something to distract her from feeling hungry. She spotted his duffle bag leaning against the wall and decided to investigate.
She found mostly clothing, but half way through, she came across a carved wooden box. A key was needed to open it, so she set it aside. Under the box in the duffle bag was a shabby, leather-bound volume of Shakespeare's plays. Intrigued, she sat down on the floor, leaning back against the duffle bag and began to turn the frail, yellow pages. It appeared to be a very costly piece, surely an original. Lily wondered how it was that the changeable Duncan Macleod should come to have such a book in his possession. She could not imagine the man she knew taking the time to sit down and read, and yet if it was not read, why did he have it with him?
She turned a page and found herself looking down at the first page in surprise. There on the thin paper was scrawled a Latin inscription, inopem me copia fecit, `Plenty makes me poor'-not his writing, surely? The hand was feminine. And below it, simply a name. `Tessa.'
Tessa? Helen had mentioned the woman! What had she been to him?
It was the first question she asked him when he finally arrive with the promised food. He looked tired and irritable and didn't bother speaking one word to her. He tossed a tray of Tuna fish sandwiches on the table and moved to the bed to take off his boots.
“Who is Tessa? Your wife?” Until the words slipped out she had not considered the possibility that he might have a wife tucked away somewhere. She didn't know why the thought should disturb her-except that it made her own position so much worse. The other woman! One amongst many it would seem.
Still occupied with tugging off his boots he looked up uncomprehending at first; then he frowned.
“What?”
“I asked you if your wife's name is Tessa. Or was she merely some other woman you kidnaped?”
His face whitened, and then a look of such fury came over it that Lily shrank back against the bulkhead.
“You damned, prying little bitch!” He said it softly, between his teeth. “What in hell do you mean by that? Where did you--”
The book she had been holding dropped from her suddenly nerveless fingers, catching his eye.
There was a silence that stretched unendingly, while Lily stayed flattened against the wall, not daring to look at him. Oh, God. Why had she spoken? He looked furious enough to kill her with his bare hands!
And then he said in a surprisingly quiet and controlled voice, “I loved Tessa very deeply. She completed me. And I have no wife-nor do I intend ever to saddle myself with one. Do you understand?”
At last she managed to raise her eyes to his face, and he gave a harsh, ugly laugh. “Your eyes are as big as saucers. Did I really succeed in frightening you at last?” Before she could find her voice to respond, he stood up and crossed the room with two long strides and caught her shoulders. “Don't ever ask me questions about myself, Lily. You might not like the answers you receive!”
“I-I didn't mean--” She didn't mean to stutter either, but she couldn't help it. “Helen mentioned her name, earlier, and then I saw it on that page in the book.”
Duncan was frowning darkly. “What did Helen say about Tessa?”
Lily shoulders trembled beneath his hands. The way he said her name, his tone husky and deep. His eyes were so wild looking. She thought it best not to say anything more, but she realized she had already said too much. His fingers tightened on her shoulders and Lily shook her head in despair.
“She said Tessa had you once, but now she did.”
He pulled her against his chest and held her there as if to comfort her for having scared her half out of her wits. “Never mind. It's not your fault, and I'm a moody devil at the best of times lately. It's a good thing for you we'll be going our separate ways when this yacht reaches La Havre in a few days.”
****
It was her mind and her instinct for self-preservation that enabled Lily to get through the next day-starting with her first trip onto the deck with Duncan. A table with a couple metal chairs was set up, two tall glasses of orange juice just waiting for them. It was just past dawn, but Elena's hired chef was up and busy creating wonders in the galley. Belgium waffles with hot slices of apples topped with whipped cream. It was decadent and so outrageously delicious.
On the main deck, Lily could see Helen standing at the rail, looking down at them. Dropping her hand that had shaded her eyes, Lily meet the slightly amused expression on Duncan Macleod's yet to be shaved face.
“Do you do it to hurt her? Or to boost your own sense of self-worth?” Lily asked him softly. “She obviously wants you.”
“Ah, and you do not?” He countered and threw his head back to laugh. Feeling uneasy and sensing his mood, Lily watched him carefully, noting the glimmer of something hateful in his caramel colored eyes when he stopped laughing abruptly and reached for her hand that was resting on top of the table.
“There's a bikini in our room. Put it on.”
“Why?”
“Because you are too pale, menina,” he offered softly, but she did not believe for a moment that was the reason.
The deck that Helen was on also contained a pool, and it did not take much thought to guess what Duncan intended. Not that Lily had any choice in the matter. If Duncan wanted to use her as a tool for revenge or spite against Helen, trapped on this ship as she was with only him as her friend, rather lessened her options.
The thing about a string bikini was that whatever size your hips or breasts were did not matter because you only had to loosen the strings or tightened them to make the thing fit. A power play was going on here-a mere shifting of power. Lily had reached a point where she no longer cared. Another day and they would dock in Le Havre, France. She would say goodbye to Elena Goday's amusing assembly of friends, bodyguards and lovers. She would say goodbye to Duncan as well-and it was only for the best! Wasn't it?
On the top deck, under the hot sun, it was comparatively easy to pretend that Helen was not shooting daggers at her. She had braided her long hair, tying it up on her head so that when she lay on her stomach, the sun could tan her shoulders and back. A tall alcoholic beverage with Tequila was setting near her. She had not touched it.
Duncan was in the pool, doing laps. She watched him, fascinated by the power of his strokes and his drive, from one end of the pool to the next, not stopping and hardly coming up for air. Helen jumped in the pool to join him, but he did not realize it yet as he continued with his laps.
Lily sensed she had opened a can of worms when she told Duncan what Helen had said about Tessa. He had been intentional cruel to Helen, and that cruelty continued. It was why he had insisted she come up on the top deck to sun bathe, it was in the way Duncan had sat beside her earlier, watching Helen as he rubbed oil on Lily's back. Lily knew his every move was set out to humiliate and chasten Helen.
Elena was either remarkably understanding of what Duncan was about or carelessly indifferent. She seemed to add to Helen's misery by taunting her friend, commenting often on how fascinating Duncan seemed to be finding the little gypsy wench from Seville.
Lily rested her head on the towel and closed her eyes, blocking out the sun, so that she felt wrapped in a warm cocoon, with only the burning heat of the sun and the sounds of Duncan moving through the water under the light back ground noise of the conversation around her.
Lily had not intended to listen, but then Elena did not seem to care that she could be overheard. “Ah, Diego, Helen is a stupid one! Look at her! And it's all because she was jealous of that woman! Si, she told me about Tessa Noel. How brilliant her metal sculptures were, how Duncan supported her both financially and spiritually so that she could become an artist of some renown.”
“He hardly seems like the type to do anything that was not motivated in self interest,” Diego countered, and Lily cracked her eyelids just enough so she could see them laying a few feet away. “How did Helen get mixed up with that man?”
Elena gave a shrug of her shoulders. “She told me she wanted him back when Tessa had him, but she could never draw his attention. Then two weeks ago, as we were preparing to leave the port of Le Havre, he came walking by and all she had to do is mention the Holy Week festival in Seville and he joined us.”
“We should have left him behind in San Sebastian where you picked me up. We had to wait days for her to find him,” he complained, reaching for his drink. “He's not been the most pleasant of traveling companions.”
“I find him fascinating.”
“You find all men fascinating,” Diego countered with a chuckle. “No seriously, he likes to stir up trouble. I wish he would stay in his cabin.”
Elena's soft laughter rang out briefly. “Si, you would like him out of sight and out of mind. Querido, tomorrow we dock in Le Havre. He will be gone soon enough.”
They moved off together than, probably to their cabin and Lily sighed unhappily and closed her eyes again. The heat of the sun made her feel lazy as it baked down upon her. She slowly felt herself drifting off to sleep.
Icy cold droplets of water hit Lily's back and she sprang up to her knees from the shock of it. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she caught Duncan's grin as he bent down to snatch up a towel. He shook his head like an angry dog, sending water droplets flying, then dropped down beside her.
With the memory of all she had heard Diego and Elena discussing, Lily impulsively reached out for his hand. What had Duncan said about Tessa? Oh yes, he had loved her deeply. And something more? She completed him. The pity that showed in her eyes was masked by her lashes as she held his large hand in her smaller one, rubbing her thumb back and forth across it. He frowned at her darkly and she leaned in close to kissed him.
She had meant it to be a light, fleeting kiss, but his mouth had encompassed hers, and his response to her was anything but fleeting. She wondered if he really felt desire for her, or was Helen still in the pool, watching them. His mouth lifted from hers after a moment and Lily glanced toward the pool. They were alone.
Duncan laughed dangerously, his caramel brown eyes glittering with unholy lights it seemed to Lily. She had not thought it possible to shiver with the burn of the sun on her back, but she did now. How was it possible for such seething rage and hatred to reside in one man-and it did reside in Duncan Macleod. Lily knew it.
“Duncan, you must let this animosity you are feeling toward Helen go.”
“Why is that?” He asked with a harsh laugh and pushed her down. Lily caught herself and rested her weight on an elbow.
“Tessa is gone,” Lily spoke softly, trembling inside because she knew Tessa was the one subject he had told her he did not want to discuss, and yet, she had to reach him somehow, make him realize the futileness of the emotions he was feeling. Revenge was not going to change anything. Tessa was still going to be dead, and Helen will still have had her shining moment with him, just like Lily had hers now.
“What the hell is your point!”
“You are torturing, Helen! And you are using me to do it!” Lily replied and abruptly jumped to her feet. She started to move toward the stairs to go below deck, but he had sprung up right behind her and his long fingers closed over her wrist, biting into the tendons.
Lily didn't struggle against his hold and his brutal fingers loosened. She refused to turn and face him. She didn't want to look up into that handsome face, for she knew he was not now the tender man he had been yesterday. He was some mad man right now, and those beautiful eyes of his would be dark and narrowed, his mouth would be twisted and all the muscles of his face would be tense with the rage inside him.
“You are concerned about Helen?” His voice hissed in her ear. “She hates you! You are nothing to her because you cannot be used!”
Lily spun around to face him at last.
“And what of you, Duncan Macleod? Will you hate me as well when you can no longer use me?”
“You are not my enemy! I know them!”
Lily lifted an eyebrow in surprise. `Do you? Name them for me? I already know Helen is one of them. Is there another?”
He scowled darkly at her, but Lily wasn't intimidated for once. She had spied something in the glitter of his eyes. A speck of humanity, perhaps, Lily wasn't sure, but she was determined to make him at least talk about some of the raging emotion inside him.
“What demons inside you have made you so hateful?” she asked softly, “And what do I have to say or do to turn you back into the man who held me in his arms last night?”
He felt the trembling in the wrist he still held, and gave a surprised laugh. “Such courage, Lily? Do you really want to know my deep dark secrets? How I have killed men-and women, too? How I will continue to kill!”
“No!”
“Oh, yes!” He said in a harsh, deadly whisper between gritted teeth. “Tomorrow when we dock in Le Havre I have a certain quartermaster, Robard Davis, of a tramp steamer I was on for too many months, that never paid me as promised. I will find him first!”
“To kill him?” Lily asked, horrified.
He shrugged so causally it made Lily shiver again. “I haven't decided yet. I'll get what was promised me.”
“Like you did with me?”
“You never promised me anything, little make-believe gypsy,” he said softly, “We both know that! You may have stolen my wallet, but Simone--” he paused, then asked with a harsh laugh, “was she, really your half sister? She took the money.”
“No! She would not have--”
“Oh, but I think she would have, and did! I got my wallet back, but all the money was gone,” he countered, “Simone gave it to Elena.”
Lily looked down, away from his narrowed stare. Lily blinked her eyes, trying to find an excuse for Simone, but there was none. Simone had never even approached Duncan. She had decided to keep the money for herself. Tears filled her eyes and blurred her vision. It hurt to know that Simone would do such a thing to her. Perhaps she should not have been surprised, but she was.
Duncan watched her, almost as if he sensed the turmoil inside, the betrayal she felt. Simone had stolen his money and Lily had paid the price. She was still paying the price because once they docked in Le Havre, she would be alone. Alone in a country she did not know. Thank God, she could speak French at least! It was a small consolidation when she still needed to find passage back to Seville.
“See how fast friends can turn to enemies.”
Disgusted with his bitterness and hatred, she jerked her wrist free and spun around to move down the stairs. He didn't follow her and she was glad. She needed to distance herself from his darkness, before it overtook her as well. A cool shower and perhaps a nap would help revive her spirits. Things always seem to take on a different light once you slept on them.
****
The sandals were dropped on her, one by one. One on her right shoulder and the other on her breast, rousing her from a troubled sleep filled with dreams of writhing monsters and a flashing lethal sword that chased her down dark, echoing corridors that gave back her screams.
She had no strength left to scream now or even wonder how he had opened the locked door or why he had come after all that had passed between them. The closed doors and windows had allowed the room to heat and she kicked at the sheet covering her. The flimsy night robe she wore twisted about her thighs, impeding her feeble struggles.
The flimsy material of the night robe ripped, leaving her body bare and vulnerable and he moved to lay beside her, naked, warm. He held an uncorked bottle of champagne in one hand, and as she watched, he poured some of it between her breasts. It ran down over her skin to pool in her navel. His tongue followed its path. More champagne was spilled and laved up, before he finally discarded the half empty bottle on the floor beside the bed, and lay between her thighs, with his weight holding her down.
“Time to say goodbye, Lily,” he whispered against her neck in a slurred, husky voice, and Lily knew than that he must have been drinking most of the afternoon. “If things were different, I would keep you with me, but for your own good we must part.”
“I know,” Lily heard herself whisper back into the stillness that was broken by his breathing and hers. Lily watched the sunlight dance across the bronze skin of his shoulder before instinctively turning to him so his mouth could cover her lips. The kiss felt like a dream to her, none of this seemed quite real as his mouth moved across her soft cheek and down the side of her neck, to stop there, kissing the pulse that beat madly under his lips.
He slipped his hand between their bodies and caressed her breasts. She arched up against the stroke of his fingers. Between kisses he said softly, “Will you miss me when I'm gone? I will miss you, I think. Show me-show me how much you will miss me.”
And even while her mind rebelled against leaving him, her body had gone beyond its control and showed him, in a language all its own, that she would indeed miss him. A lasting relationship was more than the physical. There had to be trust and respect, and Lily couldn't honestly say she trusted Macleod. He was too volatile, hat