Renegade Love (Rancheros) (12 page)

So she sat in silence focused on the lovely day and the beautiful landscape, trying to forget that their marriage was not truly valid in the eyes of the church. The thought turned persistent and soon the landscape lost its appeal and all she thought about was... that she wasn’t truly Esteban’s wife and wouldn’t be until... the image hit her hard.

She and Esteban naked in bed together and he kissing her while his fingers slipped between her legs and...

Her hand flew to her stomach where it felt as if thousands of butterflies fluttered inside her.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his hand quickly covering hers.

His hand completely devoured her small one and she noticed how long his fingers were and once again the image hit and it was as if she could feel his slim fingers penetrating her. She pressed her hand to her stomach harder, hoping to ease the ache.

Esteban pulled the horse to a stop and turned to his wife. “What’s wrong? Don’t you feel well?”

What was she to say to him?
I’m thinking of you naked, kissing me and touching me.

She shut her eyes against her wicked thoughts, though he was her husband so how could they be wicked? She hurried to say, “My stomach is a bit upset.”

“Can you make it to the stream? It’s not far and the cool water may help you.”

She nodded thinking how she would like to dunk herself in the water and chase away the throb between her legs.

They were there in no time and Esteban helped her down out of the carriage and kept his arm around her waist until they got to the stream. He helped her sit near the bank, and then dunked his handkerchief in the water, rinsed it, and gently pressed it to her flushed cheeks.

“I would ask you if you were pregnant, but I know that is not possible. So why does your stomach trouble you?”

He had the most gorgeous sinful dark eyes she had ever seen. Marinda had been right when she had warned her that day not to look upon Esteban. His eyes captivated and captured, never letting go, not that you wanted him to. You were lost once he had firm hold of you with one penetrating glance.

Penetrating.
Damn, why did she have to think about that again?

She closed her eyes and shook her head trying to rid herself of the persistent image. Then she opened her eyes only to meet his eyes once again and feel her body continue to tingle with pleasure.

“You will tell me the truth,” he said, as if she had no choice.

But how did she tell her husband that she had never expected to tingle at his touch or at the mere thought of it? She was too new to this marriage, yet to be sealed, to speak so intimately with him. And to outright lie to him was no way to start a marriage, especially after just coming from church.

So when she finally spoke it was the truth. “It upsets me to see how people treat you.”

“They fear me,” —he paused for a moment—“don’t you?”

“Fear has no place in a marriage.” And she surprised him with a generous smile. “My mother and father smiled, laughed, and hugged often. My father would tell me how rich we were, though it was not the type of wealth you could see. He told me that love—true love—grows and thrives and produces a harvest of happiness with each passing year.”

“So you don’t fear me?”

“I don’t want to fear you. I want us to be friends.”

“So you said.”

“You said you wanted more.”

“I do.”

“What more do you want?”

“I want all of you,” he said adamantly.

She wasn’t sure if it was a tingle of fear or passion that ran through her, but since there hadn’t been an ounce of menace in his voice she tended to believe that passion was the culprit for her reaction.

“As my wife you belong to me, but can you give every part of yourself to me, Rosa? Can you surrender yourself completely?”

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Can you do the same? Surrender yourself completely to me?”

He sprang to his feet. “It’s time to go.” He didn’t offer his hand. He turned and walked to the carriage.

She stared after him for a moment, and then went to get to her feet. He was there before she realized it, his hands at her waist lifting her to stand. When she raised her head, she caught a spark of anger in his eyes.

“I surrendered myself once... I’ll never do so again.”

Rosa watched her husband walk away from her, his strides unhurried, though determined. As soon as they had reached the hacienda, he had helped her out of the carriage, then turned and walked away. She couldn’t help but feel as if he abandoned her. Was he walking away from their marriage? Their vows had yet to be sealed, so in the eyes of the church they were not truly married. Would it remain that way unless... she surrendered
completely
to him? Would he settle for nothing less?

She entered the hacienda, her mind troubled.

“Rosa.”

She turned to see Dona Valerianna in the small parlor where the woman spent a good amount of time on her embroidery. Rosa joined her, though she would have preferred to go to her bed chamber and be alone.

“Was there a letter from my daughter?”

Rosa hadn’t realized that she had the package and letter that Esteban had picked up from the Mercantile pressed to her chest. She had scooped it up just before he had scooped her out of the carriage.

She handed the package to Dona Valerianna.

“A letter from Crista,” Dona Valerianna said with excitement as she slipped it from beneath the thin rope tied around the package. “And the package I have been waiting for,”—she smiled and handed it to Rosa—“for you my dear.”

Rosa stared at the package wrapped in brown paper. It had been so long since she had gotten a gift and the ones she remembered receiving had been small items that her father or mother had handmade.

“Take it, it’s for you,” Dona Valerianna urged and Rosa did.

Rosa carefully untied the string and peeled away the brown paper. Words eluded her as she stared at drawing paper, a tin of charcoals, and a tin of graphite sticks. Never had she imagined having such precious drawing tools.

Rosa turned to Dona Valerianna with tears pooling in her eyes. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem adequate.”

Dona Valerianna reached out and patted Rosa’s arm. “You have a talent and you should have what you need to grow that talent. And I so want to display your drawings throughout the hacienda. I have also inquired about sending for an easel, paints, and canvas for you.”

“That is too much,” Rosa protested, already feeling the woman had overindulged.

“Nonsense, I hope one day you will do a portrait of the family so that we will all live on for future generations to know us.”

Rosa did not believe herself that talented, though she would love to attempt such a painting, but first she would practice with these drawing tools and grow her talent as Dona Valerianna suggested.

“Now I must see what my daughter has to say,” Dona Valerianna said breaking the wax seal on the letter. “Oh my, she’ll be leaving Spain in the next week or so.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “I have missed her so much and she is so happy to be returning home. I cannot wait to tell Alejandro.”

Raised voices had both women jumping. Esteban and his father were arguing, not an unusual occurrence as Rosa had come to learn, but one that never failed to upset Dona Valerianna.

“Esteban and his father had such a wonderful relationship before... ” Dona Valerianna turned her head, though not before Rosa caught the glimmer of tears in her eyes. “I was hoping they could once again... ” She shook her head as if she knew it was not possible.

“Esteban is not a young, defenseless boy anymore,” Rosa said.
And I am not a young, defenseless girl any longer.
The thought startled her, for she had felt defenseless when living with the Curros. And while there was a degree of obedience expected from her now, no one treated her badly... no one raised a hand to her.

“No he’s not,” Dona Valerianna agreed with a gentle shake of her head.

“It must be extremely difficult for Don Alejandro to deal with a full grown son when last he saw him, he was only a young boy. And to not have been part of guiding him into manhood must be heartbreaking for him as it is for you.”

A tear poised at the corner of Dona Valerianna’s eye and she smiled. “My son is fortunate to have you as his wife and I hope one day he realizes it.”

“Perhaps with time Esteban and I will come to realize how fortunate we both are to have found each other.”

The single tear spilled from Dona Valerianna’s eye and rolled slowly down her cheek. “I pray that that be so, for I believe you are good for each other.”

~~~

Rosa sat in the garden alone, twilight having settled hours ago and supper long passed, Esteban having been absent from the meal. She hugged herself, the night bringing with it a slight wind that chilled. She thought about the day and possibilities. Dona Valerianna felt they were good for each other and Esteban wanted more than friendship from her. And though she still had to get to know her husband, she was—to her growing surprise—attracted to him.

She sighed and cast a glance to the heavens and recited a long remembered prayer her mother had taught her.

“Do not waste your breath on prayers.”

Rosa startled almost jumping off the bench, but caught herself and turned only to find no one standing there. Suddenly the night shadows seemed ominous and she grew anxious. Esteban was somewhere in the shadows. How long had he been there watching her?

This time it wasn’t the chilled wind that caused her to hug herself as she peered into the surrounding darkness.

“You should have a shawl,” he scolded as he stepped out of the shadows and slipped off his jacket. He went to her and draped it over her shoulders, his strong hands giving her shoulders a firm squeeze, though he would much rather take her in his arms and let his heated body warm her. The thought aroused him and he wisely took a step away.

She was struck speechless by his appearance. His dark shoulder length hair was in slight disarray and only added to his sinfully handsome features. But it was his body that more caught her eye. He stood poised, his muscles taut as if he was always ready to defend. Or perhaps attack? She was sure whatever the case, it would be an instinctive reaction.

“Prayers are never wasted,” Rosa said, the scent of him drifting off his jacket to torment her senses. He always smelled of the earth after a rainstorm when its scent was most potent. And tonight there was a hint of grapes added to it, which meant he had been in the vineyards.

“I would argue that point most vigorously.”

“I can understand you feeling that way with what you have been through.”

“Your situation wasn’t ideal, and yet, you still pray?” he asked wondering how she held on to her faith when the Curros had treated her so badly.

“If I had surrendered my faith, then the Curros would have robbed me of everything, and there was no way I would let them rob me of my soul.”

His hand snapped out, grabbed her arm, and yanked her up so fast that her gasp caught in her throat for a moment before it rushed out of her.

“Pacquito whipped my soul out of me. It would be wise of you to remember that.”

Anger, hate, and hurt filled his dark eyes and Rosa’s heart went out to him. She had suffered many a beating but nothing that could compare to what he must have endured.

She placed a gentle hand to his cheek and her cool palm sizzled from the heat of his skin. “No, Pacquito did not take your soul.” She moved her hand to rest against his chest, the heat radiating through his shirt. “It’s inside you locked away waiting.”

“For what?”

“For you to free it.”

A smile more sly than pleasant worked at the corners of his mouth as he leaned down to whisper, “No, it remains locked out of fear, for if it ever surfaces it will be consumed by evil.”

“You are not evil,” she whispered, as if it was a secret.

“Let me prove how foolish it would be for you to believe that. Let me tell you what I’m thinking at this very moment,” —his whisper grew harsh— “I want to strip you bare, bend you over the bench and jam myself into you over and over and over. And if that isn’t enough to satisfy me, then I’ll see you down on your knees in front of me so that you can bring me to pleasure with your mouth.”

If Esteban hadn’t been holding her so firmly by the arm, she would have collapsed, her legs having turned weak from the shock of his blunt words and the vivid images they had produced. But if he had thought to repulse her, he was quite wrong. It actually had the opposite effect on her. She found her passion aroused. Was she as sinful as him? Or did she find her husband far more appealing than she ever thought possible? And if so could she possibly completely surrender to him and do those things that sounded so wicked but had aroused her?

She hadn’t realized that her head had drooped as her mind had grown heavy with thought and when she slowly raised it... his mouth was a breath away from hers. In the next instant, his lips laid claim to hers like a man staking his territory.

He kissed her with such resolve that a tingle rushed through her and settled between her legs, leaving her throbbing. He pulled his mouth away, his teeth nibbling along her bottom lip, tugging and nipping with an eagerness that tantalized. Then he traveled down the side of her neck savoring every bit of her warm skin, a nip here, a faint lick there, and then a sharp nip that sent a passionate shiver through her. He retraced his path returning to her lips. His kiss turned hungry as did her need to feed on him. It was as if she couldn’t get enough of him. The more the kiss lingered, the more she wanted. And it was easy to see that he felt the same.

Esteban felt his need grow harder and harder. If he didn’t stop soon, he would do exactly as he had told her... he’d stripe her, bend her over the bench, and...

He yanked his mouth away from hers and stepped back, his hand shooting out to steady her swaying body.

Rosa stared at him confused.

“You don’t want to step into my hell,” he warned and disappeared into the darkness before she could stop him.