Hannah Howell (9 page)

“Not if I beat you to it. That man's been a thorn in my side for too long. He also killed my parents."

“You will have him,
querido,"
she said confidently. “That dog's death is long overdue.” She slid her hands down his leg and smiled, deciding that enough had been said about Raoul. “Now that you know I am well, are you going to your own bed?"

“Not unless you join me there,” he moaned as he bent his head to her breasts.

“And what of your family?” she asked huskily, arching to his hungry mouth as it moved over her breasts.

“It is my house,” he stated with an ill-concealed arrogance. “You taste delicious. Honeyed silk.” He gently nipped her taut stomach.

“It is my bed. I should kick you out. What would you do then,
mi amor?"

“Come back here and convince you to change your mind."

“That sounds interesting,” she purred. “Consider yourself kicked out of the bed,
gringo.
Now, convince me."

“My pleasure,” he rasped as he prepared to kiss her.

“No,
señor,"
she murmured against his lips. “I think
el gusto mio,
the pleasure is mine."

She made no secret of that, much to Royal's delight. If there had ever been a woman so open in her sensuality, he could not remember having her. The sound of her passion-thickened voice murmuring in Spanish and English sent his own passion to new heights. Fleetingly, he wondered if he was headed for trouble and entanglement, but the thought vanished as she wrapped her limbs around him. Such a journey was worth whatever fine a man had to pay.

When finally they lay sated and exhausted, Antonie sensed more strongly that with each time she made love to him she was in danger of losing far more than her much protected innocence. The sensation of being bound to him in many ways, not passion alone, grew with every kiss. She knew it would be foolish to think that such glory could come from her body alone. Pushing aside a brief attack of fear Antonie decided such pleasure would be worth the price.

She was sure that her heart was involved, but not so sure of how deeply. She knew it would be risky, if not stupid, to lose her heart completely. Oro was right. Royal Bancroft was a man bred to land and money. That sort of man did not give his heart nor his name to an orphan who had been raised by a
bandido.
He would search for a lady to be mistress of his big ranch and raise his children.

A wince twisted her face and she was glad Royal was asleep and unable to see it. It hurt to think of another woman sharing the important and the mundane with him. That was something she would have to watch out for.

The pleasure was all she would have. Antonie knew she had to face that. If any more came from their relationship, it would be an unexpected joy. To hope would be to bring herself more pain. Knowing that with such certainty told her she was already in far deeper than she wanted to be.

“Ah, Juan.” She sighed, her gaze on the man whose dark head rested so nicely upon her breasts, “I think your
niña
has been a little unwise. I think she has stepped off a very high cliff. I pray that you are here in spirit, at my side at all times as you promised, so that you might cushion my fall."

The cold water made Antonie shiver but she worked the pump handle once more, sending another burst of water cascading over her head. Standing up, she used her bandana to dry her face but let her hair stay dripping wet, the trickles of water from it cooling her a little more. Rounding up the cattle for the drive was hot, exhausting work, but as she leaned against the pump and saw Patricia sitting on the veranda, Antonie decided she preferred it to being idle. Patricia could do the work but was not allowed to unless the ranch was desperate for hands. Yet again Antonie mused that being a proper lady had a lot of drawbacks.

“Toni, I have some cool lemonade here if you wish some,” Patricia called.

“That would be nice,” Antonie called back as she moved to join Patricia on the veranda.

“I expect the others will be along soon,” Patricia said as she handed Antonie a glass of lemonade and sat down again.

"Sí.
They will be.” Antonie savored the cool drink before adding, “Royal thought I looked too warm so he sent me back here."

Antonie knew that the girl studied her but pretended not to notice. It was no secret that she and Royal were lovers, yet Patricia had thus far said nothing. However, Antonie had sensed a curiosity in the girl from the start. She had the feeling that the curiosity had grown to a strength that would soon overpower her extreme good manners.

“I've never met anyone like you before,” Patricia suddenly burst out.

“Like me? How like me?"

Patricia blushed. “Well, I mean a woman who has a ... a lover."

Laughing softly, Antonie shook her head.
"Sí.
You have. You just do not know it, either because it is kept quiet or they work to hide it from girls like you. It is a thing that is often hidden, but it is there."

“Oh. I just don't understand. I mean, well, this is really none of my business, but don't you want a husband? Is that why you take lovers instead?"

“Lover, not lovers. Only one. Only Royal."

“You mean, you were ... you never ... oh, dear, I'm stumbling. You were....?"

“A virgin.
Sí.
I weighed it in my head for a week before I decided I would be foolish to turn away from him. I do not think I can explain it so that you can understand."

“I am not a child."

“No, but you are different. You are taught things I never learned. I think you see the world with different eyes. Ah,
chica,
sometimes there is a fire between a man and a woman, a fire so hot it burns away morals and sense."

“Is that what you have with Royal?"

"Sí.
I know of men and women. These truths were not hidden from me as they are from you. I knew I had found something rare. Perhaps I am weak, for I succumbed to the strength of it. I did not want to return to Mexico without tasting it. The virginity you have been taught to cling to so tightly is maybe not so important to me, eh? I have no fear of living without a man. I do not like the thought of growing old alone without children, but I do not fear it. If being Royal's lover now means no man will want me for his wife, then I am thinking there is no man worthy."

“It would seem that they should understand,” Patricia said quietly. “Then again, it seems that they don't."

Antonie shrugged. “It requires a man who can understand that a woman has the same feelings as a man and that she is not a
puta
because she does. Maybe there are not many of them. It is also pride, I think. They do not like to know that another has touched what is theirs. Ah, here come the others. I hope you have a lot of this lemonade,
chica."

The Bancrofts, Oro, and Tomás soon joined them on the veranda. Antonie saw that Maria took care of the hands while Patricia served the ones on the veranda. She laughed when Royal leaned up against the railing and drew her toward him, for his hair still dripped from his rinse under the pump. He shook it off like a dog, sprinkling her as he backed her up against him, then draped his arm around her shoulder.

As they discussed what remained to be done, Antonie noticed something she heartily wished she could have ignored. The interest Patricia had shown in Oro had not faded. It had clearly intensified. A fleeting look at the Bancrofts’ faces told Antonie that the brothers had so far failed to notice how their sister studied Oro, the look in the girl's eyes when she did, and the way Patricia constantly maneuvered herself close to Oro. She wondered how long their ignorance would continue.

A close study of Oro's face only added to Antonie's worry. He was not immune to the young girl. Antonie could almost feel the tension in him as Patricia constantly moved near him, sorely tempting him. Oro had always been able to turn casually away from the ladies if he felt it necessary or in his best interest to do so. More often, he simply did not notice that a lady was interested. The fact that he was not doing either now was, in Antonie's mind, very dangerous indeed. It could well mean that the fire Oro had said he had never felt was now licking at his heels.

An abrupt departure by Oro only confirmed her suspicions. Antonie tried to hide her concern. She did not want any awkward questions asked or cause any one of the Bancroft brothers to look more closely at the way Patricia acted around Oro. Somehow she was going to have to find time to talk to Oro, to try and find out just how bad things were.

“Come on,” Royal said as he urged Antonie toward the door. “I need a bath."

“Need help, do you?"

“Well,” he drawled softly, “I was hoping you'd offer to scrub my back and then I would scrub yours. It'd be easier to do that if we bathe together, and think of the water we'd save."

Her thoughts, inspired by his invitation, had little to do with saving water. “And all the extra work we'll save Rosa and Maria."

“Royal."

The curse that hissed through Royal's teeth almost made Antonie smile. It did at least ease her annoyance with Marilyn's ill-timed arrival, for Royal was so clearly not delighted by the woman's visit, visits that were far too regular, Antonie mused crossly as she went into the house.

The woman thinks to keep Royal tied to her by constantly presenting herself,
Antonie silently grumbled to herself as she went to her room and prepared for her solitary bath.

“That woman is here again,” muttered Maria as she and the young Rosa brought in Antonie's bathwater.

Antonie bit back a laugh, for Maria never hid her dislike for Marilyn. “Perhaps she has some important news to tell."

“Humph. She is just trying to make sure she does not lose her place."

“Oh, I don't think she needs to worry about that,” Antonie said quietly as Rosa and Maria started to leave. “She has only been set aside for a little while."

“Is that what you think,
señorita?
We will see. Come, Rosa, there is more water to heat."

Although it was tempting to think Maria's opinion was reason to hope, Antonie resolutely fought it. Maria hated Marilyn and would be pleased to see any other woman become Royal's wife. It was simply wishful thinking, Maria reading more into a temporary love affair than there was. Royal's attitude could have easily aided Maria in that self-deception.

Slipping into the steaming water with a sigh of pleasure, Antonie smiled crookedly as she thought of Royal. Although they did not officially share the same room, Antonie never slept alone whether she slept in her own bed or his. He was openly friendly and affectionate and he liked her. Even Antonie had no doubts about that. Their relationship was not based solely upon lust, something everyone could see. But sometimes Antonie wished it was, then everything would be much simpler.

Grimacing, Antonie began to scrub herself clean, holding her breath and ducking beneath the water to rinse out her soapy hair. If Royal simply lusted for her, she would find it easier to quell her own errant hopes. Then she would know exactly where she stood, what he wanted from her and what he felt for her. Now she was too often confused, torn equally between hope and common sense, reading things into his every word or action and trying very hard not to.

Cursing herself for being an idiot did no good at all. Despite her best efforts, despite all her common sense, her heart was irrevocably involved. What should have remained an affair of the body had now become an affair of the heart, even if only on her part. That organ continually contracted and twisted every time Marilyn drew Royal's attention.

“Well, maybe he'll think twice next time,” she muttered as she stepped out of the tub and started to dry off, “when he recalls how he missed some fun in the bath because he answered Marilyn's squawk."

Once dressed, she felt restless. Glimpsing Royal and Marilyn still on the veranda, Marilyn clinging to Royal's arm, Antonie decided to go out the back door. She had barely gone a few yards when she saw Oro and Patricia. Only briefly did she think about leaving them alone in what appeared to be an awkward moment. She wanted to know just how bad the situation was and if there was anything she could do to sort things out. Staying in the shadow of the house, she listened and felt her heart sink as all of her worst suspicions were confirmed.

“I just wanted to talk, Oro,” Patricia said weakly.

“No, you did not.” He yanked her into his arms. “This is what you want. This is why you haunt me,
chica."

Antonie winced as Oro roughly kissed Patricia. He was not making any effort to be gentle, seductive, or charming and that was not at all like Oro. He was clearly trying to drive the girl away, and Antonie had the chilling feeling it was because he ached to pull the girl close and hold on tightly.

“Oro, you don't understand,” Patricia said, tears choking her as he pushed her away.

"Sí.
I understand. I am different, eh? Well, I am not that different,
chica.
If you keep inviting me, I will grab what you offer, use you, and throw you aside as quickly as any Anglo. Stay with your flower-toting
muchachos, chica,
and leave me alone,” he hissed even as he mounted the horse he had been leading. “You are not worth being shot for."

Quietly approaching the sniffling girl as Oro rode toward town, Antonie sympathized with Patricia's hurt. Oro's words had been cruel. Her sympathy, however, was severely constrained by annoyance. Patricia was dragging them all into a dangerous predicament.

“He is right,
chica,"
she said quietly and smiled gently when Patricia faced her, blushing deeply.

“You were spying on us?"

“Not spying. Only watching. I saw how things were, guessed what was happening, and wished to see how bad it was."

“You mean how shamelessly I was chasing him, don't you?” Patricia snapped, self-disgust tainting her voice.

“Perhaps. Whether it is shameless or not, you must stop."

“Why? Because you want him?"