Midnight Rider (38 page)

“
Si,
that is what I believe.”

“
Santo de Christo,
how could I not have seen?” In the back of his mind, he remembered Yolanda, the woman his cousin meant to marry. She had rejected Angel's suit because she had wanted Ramon. It was Ramon, not Angel, who had always attracted women. Beautiful, desirable women. Women his cousin must have wanted. Women like Caralee.

“He must have known she was my wife. If he saw me ride out, he could have waited, approached her in the dining room. He could have followed her up to our room and somehow broken in. He must have meant to rape her. He believed she would be too ashamed to tell me. He might even have believed I would take his word over hers.”

When Ramon looked up, the world appeared blurred and something burned at the back of his eyes. “And I did, Pedro. I behaved exactly as Angel knew I would.” Slowly he came to his feet. “I will kill him, I swear it.”

Pedro gripped his shoulders. “Listen to me, Ramon. It is your wife you must think of now. You are certain about your beliefs? You must be, if you are to succeed. What you have done will not be easy to undo. There can be no doubts about her ever again.”

Ramon swallowed against the tightness that had risen in his throat. “I cannot believe I did not see it before.”

“For so many years you have hated the Anglos. But there is good and bad in all people. In your heart you know this. The loss of your brother has made you forget for a while.”

Ramon just nodded. “I have made so many mistakes. Where my wife is concerned, I cannot seem to think clearly.”

“You love her, my friend. Love can blind a man worse than the blackest night.”

“I must go to her. Bring her home to Las Almas.”

“It could be dangerous. You will not be welcome on del Robles land.”

“I do not care. I will wait for darkness, then go in. Somehow I will convince her to forgive me.”
Perhaps one day you will discover the truth … by then it will be too late.

Ramon's stomach knotted.
Too late. Too late. Too late.
As much as he prayed it wouldn't be so, if it was, he could not blame her. Never had he brought her anything but grief. Silently he vowed that if she would forgive him, he would spend the rest of his life making up for the pain she had suffered since the day that she had first met him.

C
HAPTER
N
INETEEN

Carly sat at her dressing table, absently drawing the silver-backed hairbrush through her long dark auburn hair. The whale-oil lamp burned low, casting her face in shadows, flickering on the whitewashed walls of the low-ceilinged room.

She was thinking of the past, of her days at Las Almas and the people she cared for. She was worried about Two Hawks, hoping the marks on his back had healed. She wondered if Ramon's mother and Tia Teresa had started making soap from the tallow they had rendered. She hoped the old women wouldn't work themselves too hard. She thought of Rey del Sol and little Bajito, of Pedro Sanchez and Florentia and the others in the stronghold.

She thought of Ramon and wondered if, now that Miranda had gone, he was once more sleeping with Isabel Montoya … or perhaps he had found someone new.

The image brought a swift shot of pain. Carly forced her thoughts in another direction, unfortunately one not so distant from those she'd just had of Ramon. Tomorrow her uncle and a dozen of his men would be leaving del Robles to join Captain Harry Love and his vigilantes—Hounds, they called them. This time, they believed, they would find the Spanish Dragon and finally bring him in.

Carly shivered to think of it. She shifted on the stool and glanced in the mirror just in time to see the curtains billow. A long, lean leg encased in snug black breeches thrust over the window sill and for several long moments, Carly's breathing ceased.

“Ramon,” she whispered as his head ducked through the opening. She was on her feet in seconds, rushing to the night stand beside her bed, jerking open the drawer and grabbing the old single-shot cap-and-ball pistol her mother had given her after her father had died and they had been left all alone. The gun she'd brought with her around the Horn.

With shaking hands she aimed it in Ramon's direction, watched him straighten to his full imposing height, and a corner of his sensuous mouth kicked up.

“So, now you wish to shoot me.”

“Believe it or not, I know how. I also know what you want and I'm not about to let you drag me off to Llano Mirada. You're not going to make me your whore.”

The smile slid away. “That is what you think?”

“Th-that's what you said the last time. That Miranda was gone and you needed a w-whore.”

His expression grew grim. “Miranda has returned, but it would not matter. You are my wife, not my whore.”

“That isn't what you said before.” The gun shook in her hands, her fingers suddenly damp and clammy, making it difficult to grip the handle.

He straightened even more. “Either pull the trigger, Cara, or put the gun away before one of us gets hurt.”

She clamped her jaw. The pistol shook a moment more, then she sighed and let the hand holding it drop to her side. “All right, maybe I can't shoot you, but I still won't let you drag me out of here. I'll scream the house down if you take one step in my direction.”

His mouth curved faintly. “I have missed you,
querida.
It has been far too dull at Las Almas without you.”

“What do you want?” She glared at him, her body tense and ready to run if she had to. She wasn't about to let him abduct her again, to use her body and humiliate her with the desire she still felt for him, desire which already slid through her veins like melted butter just at the fact he was near.

“I came to talk, nothing more. There are things I wish to say … difficult things for a man like me. I only hope that you will listen.” Why was he looking at her that way, his dark eyes searching and full of tenderness? It made her insides quiver, make a soft ache swell inside her heart.

He took a step closer, but Carly backed away. “I mean it, Ramon. I'll scream for my uncle. There'll be a dozen men in this room before you can get near me.”

“Do it, then. Perhaps it is your wish to see me dead. If that is so, I would not blame you.” He started moving closer, his long strides slow but determined.

“I'll scream, I swear it!”

He only kept walking until he stood right in front of her. “I do not think so.” He eased the gun from her limp hand, set it on the dresser behind him.

“Damnit—I hate you! I loathe you with every ounce of my heart and soul.” And in that moment she did. She hated him for making her love him. She hated him for making her blood pulse wildly at the sight of him standing there so tall and male.

“Perhaps you do. As I said, I would not blame you.”

“What do you want? Why did you come here?”

His hand came up to her cheek. She noticed that it trembled. “So many reasons … so much I want. Yet I will have none of those things if I cannot make you see.”

She eyed him warily, trying to unravel his words. “I asked you what you want.”

He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I came here to tell you I was wrong about what happened in Monterey.” Carly's stomach tightened and suddenly she felt dizzy. “It was just as you said—I doubted you because you are Anglo. My hatred of the
gringos
blinded me to the truth.”

Carly swayed on her feet, felt Ramon's long fingers reach out and grip her arm to steady her.

“You are all right?” he asked, his expression taut with concern. She nodded and he slowly released her, with some reluctance, it seemed. “It was not just losing Rancho del Robles, or the death of my brother … there were things that happened in my past.”

“Wh-what things?” Carly asked. Her stomach felt queasy and her mouth was dry. She dampened her lips with the tip of her tongue and saw Ramon's eyes suddenly darken. With a force of will, he smoothed his features and the hungry look faded away.

“There was a woman,” he said, “a beautiful
gringa
woman. Her name was Lily. Perhaps I was in love with her. When I think of what I feel for you, I do not really believe it, but I cannot be sure. I was younger then, foolish. She meant everything to me, but I meant very little to her. One day I found her in bed with two young men from the university, friends I knew in school.” His eyes turned distant, hard, as if he could still see them. “After Lily, there were other Anglo women, only this time I used them.”

He shifted and glanced away, the subject obviously painful. “That night in Monterey … when I returned to our room … I saw what I had always believed one day I would see—my Anglo wife betraying me with another man.”

Carly stared up at him, her heart aching, tears of frustration burning her eyes. “How could you think that, Ramon? There was no one I wanted but you. From the first moment I saw you, there was never anyone but you.”

“I am sorry, Cara. I know that is not enough but that is what I came here to say. And to tell you that I love you. Perhaps that is hard to believe, but it is the truth.”

Carly bit hard on her trembling bottom lip. How she had longed to hear those words. Now that Ramon had said them, she realized they couldn't erase the doubts that still burned inside her. “Sometimes loving someone isn't enough,” she said softly.

Ramon's dark gaze scorched through her. “I do not believe that is true. If I did, I would not be here. I love you. You said that you loved me. You are my wife, Cara. I want you to come home.”

She looked into his beautiful brown eyes, remembered the fiery nights she had spent in his arms, and a hard ache rose in her throat. Just days ago that was exactly what she wanted. Since then she'd had time to think things through, to see matters clearly for the first time in weeks. “I-I can't do that, Ramon.”

A muscle tightened in his cheek. “Why not? Rancho Las Almas is where you belong.”

She only shook her head. Inside, her stomach quivered and she fought to hold back tears. “We're too different, you and I. Time and again you have shown me that. You knew it from the start, but I was too much in love with you to see. What happened in Monterey could happen again. Your prejudice runs deep, Ramon. I don't think your loving me is enough to overcome the problems between us.”

“You are wrong, Cara. Already I see things as I had not been able to before. You are the reason. You are the one who has made me see.” The depths of his feelings blazed like a fire in his eyes. It made her want to touch him, to hold him and take away the pain. “Come back to Las Almas, Cara. Be my wife.”

Her gaze ran over his beloved face, the strong bones and hollows, the straight nose and hard jaw. She reached out to him, slid her arms around his neck, and he crushed her against him.

“I love you, Ramon,” she said, but as much as she did, she knew she couldn't go with him. Something else might happen. She wasn't willing to chance this kind of pain again.

She felt his long dark fingers in her hair, tilting her head back, forcing her to look into his eyes.
“Te amo,”
he whispered. I love you.
“Te necesito.”
I need you. He kissed her then, tenderly at first, then with building force. Carly trembled at the heat of his mouth over hers and the strength of his hard arms around her.

She blinked to keep from crying. “I love you, Ramon, so much I think sometimes my heart will break in two. But I can't go with you, no matter how much I might wish it. Something else might happen … and there are things about me you don't know.”

She felt his arms stiffen around her. “Do not tell me there is another man. If there is I swear I will kill him.”

She gave him a faint teary smile. “It's nothing like that. It's just…”
that I'm not what I seem. I'm not the daughter of some wealthy easterner, as my uncle led you to believe. I'm a poor ragamuffin from the mine patch.
But Carly didn't say it. She couldn't force herself to utter the words that would make him look at her the way he had that night in Monterey.

“Please, Ramon, my uncle has already started the annulment proceedings. Once it's final, you can marry a true Spanish woman—”

His kiss came swift and hard, bruising her lips with its force. Lifting her into his arms, he carried her over to the deep feather bed, rested her in the middle of the mattress, then followed her down, pinning her with his tall lean body.

“We can't, Ramon. It isn't safe for you here. If my uncle should hear us—”

“I do not care.”

“I do.” She struggled beneath him, determined to break free. “I won't let you do this. I want you to go back where you'll be safe.”

“You are my wife,” he said. “I do not want another. When I am finished, you will beg me to take you home.” He ravaged her mouth again, thrusting his tongue inside the hot moist cavern. His fingers worked the buttons on the front of her night rail, then he stripped it off over her head.

“I won't let you, Ramon. You have to leave.”

Cursing softly, he left her, crossed to the dresser, jerked open the top drawer, rummaged inside then returned to the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“I do not wish to fight you. I wish only to give you pleasure, to show you the way I feel.” He drew one of her silk stockings from among those he held in his hand, tied an end to the bed post and the other around her wrist. Carly only gaped as he did the same to the other wrist.

He smiled at her with a mixture of fierce desire and infinite tenderness. “I will have you, Cara. If you wish to stop me, cry out for your uncle. But I do not think you will.”

He caught her ankle, wrapped a length of stocking around it and tied it to the post at the foot of the bed. The last stocking went into place and he secured it to the bed, spreading her wide for him. Carly's face went hot that he should see her thus, yet a fierce, wet heat slid into the place between her legs.