Renegade Love (Rancheros) (9 page)

“No one is trustworthy,” Esteban said, as if declaring it so.

“That is not true,” Alejandro argued. “We have many trustworthy friends.”

“And yet you had to go to the peasants to find a wife for me,” Esteban said. “Not one of your trustworthy friends would even consider an arranged marriage with their dear friend’s son.”

“Lucky for you since Rosa is far more beautiful and thoughtful than any of the Dons’ daughters.” Alejandro said.

Rosa blushed at the compliment.

“That is finally something we agree on, Father,” Esteban said raising his glass of wine and nodding at his wife. He watched her blush deepen and creep down along her neck to disappear into the crevice of her full breasts. He wondered how far it went. Did it taint all of her sun-kissed skin?

He shifted in his chair when he felt himself grow aroused at the thought and it didn’t stop there. He couldn’t prevent himself from imagining stripping her of her clothes and kissing every inch of blush.

He stood abruptly, his glass of wine toppling over. He didn’t bother to right it; he left the room without a word.

“I’m sorry, my dear.” Dona Valerianna turned to Rosa apologizing. “My son sometimes lacks manners.”

“I can’t imagine how very difficult it must be for him returning to a life that he had once known but has now become so foreign to him,” Rosa said in defense of her husband’s unmannerly actions. “It must be a constant struggle for him to be the man he once was when he is so much more familiar with the man he has become.”

Don Alejandro and his wife stared at their daughter-in-law for several minutes before Dona Valerianna said, “I never thought that he waged a battle with himself, but you are right. It must be very difficult for him.” She reached her hand out to rest it on Rosa’s. “I am so grateful that he has you to help him.”

Esteban stood outside the dining room listening. He had stopped abruptly after his hasty departure. He had known he had been rude, though he didn’t care and that disturbed him as well. And when he heard his mother apologize to his wife for him, he grew angry and was about to return and warn her never to apologize for him again.

He stopped when he heard his wife’s gentle voice not only defend him but understand him, almost better than he was trying to understand himself. She had been right. He was more comfortable with the savage he had become than the aristocratic boy that had been abducted years ago. The question was how did he reconcile the two? And could he?

He walked away shedding his jacket and opening his shirt, in a sense shedding the constraints that this life here placed on him. After many years with Pacquito’s band of renegades he had found a certain sense of freedom and the taste intoxicated. He could never let anyone rule him nor could he follow rules. He had learned that rules could be broken and many were meant to be and with each rule he had broken, he swore he would never let rules dictate his life again.

The beautiful night beckoned and he answered its call. He had spent more nights under the stars than in the confines of the small hut that had been his so-called home. He followed the pebbled path to the garden just outside his quarters, looked up at the blanket of stars against the dark sky, took a deep breath and slipped his shirt off. He discarded it and his jacket to a nearby bench and rolled his neck around trying to loosen the tightness that bit at him there.

He thought about collecting his bedroll and sleeping under the stars tonight, perhaps then he would be able to sleep. Since his return home he had been haunted by nightmares that would wake him throughout the night. He wondered if he would ever be able to sleep soundly again.

He smelled her before he heard her footsteps and the corner of his mouth rose. She did have a penchant for oranges. He recalled their kiss and grew thick and hard in an instant. The problem was that he hadn’t been with a woman since his return. While there were plenty of willing women in town, he couldn’t bring himself to insult his parents by making use of the whores. He had seen to his own needs, but it was less satisfying than the pleasure he got between a woman’s legs.

You have a wife, take her.

He grew harder at the thought, though shook it away and grew annoyed.

“Keep your distance, wife, or I will think you not adverse to me burying myself deep inside you and riding you hard.” His words were meant to frighten, and they did.

Rosa gasped and took several steps back, though she was already a good distance from her husband. She had entered the bed chambers and had been surprised to see the patio doors open and Esteban standing outside in the small private garden.

She had stopped when she had spotted him and once again she had cringed when seeing the thin scars on his back. But this time she also took note of the corded muscles that ran across his shoulders and down his arms and how his waist narrowed and his firm backside rounded so nicely.

Heat rose to stain her cheeks at her sinful thought, especially since Esteban was the first man she had ever found physically appealing. But what woman wouldn’t. He was magnificently beautiful, from his fine features to his sculpted body, though his soul was heavily scarred. And it seemed that those scars had yet to heal as good as the ones had on his back.

With his warning quite clear and not wanting him to get the wrong impression, she turned to leave.

“Come here.”

Had she hesitated too long in taking her leave after he had warned her? Had he assumed that she had acquiesced by remaining there? She took cautious steps toward him.

“The stars are beautiful tonight, are they not?”

She stopped a short distance behind him and looked up at the night sky. “Yes, the stars twinkle brilliantly.” When she brought her head down she was surprised to see how close he stood to her. That was the second time he had moved so silently that she hadn’t heard him. And it was worrisome to know that he had such skill.

He reached up and ran one finger down along her temple, over her cheek and to her chin slipping it beneath and tilting her chin up a fraction. “You are far more beautiful than the stars and I would love to strip you naked, bend you over the bed and ride you good and hard.”

This time Rosa was unable to gasp. She was too shocked by his words and the image they painted in her mind.

He grabbed hold of her chin pinching it between two fingers. “I had all kindness and gentleness whipped out of me. It is not a tender lover you would find in our bed if ever we were to consummate our vows.” He gave her chin a slight shove as he released her and walked away.

Rosa didn’t turn around for several long minutes. When she finally did, her husband was gone and she hurried into the room. How her trembling legs managed to get her to the bed, she didn’t know, but she was relieved to sit. Why was he forever warning her? He had told her that he would never touch her, so why bother to make such a remark? Did he fear he would not be able to keep his word and so in frightening her, she would see to keeping her distance from him?

One full day of marriage and she already felt the weight of being Esteban’s wife. But she had been burdened with difficult situations before and had done her best in adapting to them. What else was there to do when one’s freedom was limited?

She stretched her arms along with her yawn and struggled out of her gown alone. Dolores had told her that a servant would be along shortly to help her undress and Rosa had stared speechless at the older woman. When she had finally found her voice, she had told Dolores that she would need no assistance. The woman had shaken her head and warned her that she was now a noble and needed to learn how to behave like one.

Rosa didn’t feel that way. She was who she always was and would be, nothing would change that. She didn’t want it to.

After seeing to brushing her long dark hair and stifling several yawns she gladly crawled into bed and was almost asleep when she sprang up in bed and cast a cautious eye at the door that separated her and Esteban. She would never hear him if he entered and she wondered if she should lock the door.

She gave it only a moment’s thought, realizing that it would not bode well for her to lock her husband out of his own room. So she dropped back on the bed and after several more yawns, sleep finally claimed her.

~~~

Esteban bolted up in bed. He woke often during the night, though this was an abrupt awakening and that meant something, other than a nightmare, had woken him. His hand went for his knife beneath his pillow only to find that it wasn’t there. It took him a moment to realize where he was... home. A weapon under the pillow wasn’t necessary, though he did feel more comfortable knowing the weapon was in the wooden box that sat on top of the four-drawer chest next to his bed. Another realization struck, he wasn’t in his bedchamber, which meant he had no weapon.

He scanned the room, his eyes not only having grown accustomed to the darkness but almost able to see in the dark like the nocturne animals did. It was one of many skills he had acquired and was grateful for, another being a heightened sense of hearing.

With an animal like grace he slipped out of bed and stood naked in the dark room, and listened. He heard it then... a whimper. He didn’t hesitate and he didn’t bother to don a shred of clothing. He went directly to the door to his bed chamber, opened it, and walked in.

His wife was in the throes of a nightmare. She tossed her head from side to side, while her body twisted, as if trying to escape imaginary hands that held her prisoner and her whimpers turned to distressed cries.

He hurried to the bed and didn’t think twice about his actions, he slipped beneath the blanket and eased her into his arms.

“You’re safe,” he whispered in her ear, his cool cheek pressed against her heated one. “I have you, nothing can hurt you now.” His eyes narrowed and his temper flared. “And I will kill anyone who tries.”

She squirmed, as if trying to break free from him, and he realized she needed soothing rather than words of retribution. “I’ll keep you safe, Rosa, I’ll let no one hurt you,” he repeated softly over and over as his hand caressed her back.

It wasn’t long before she calmed and settled contentedly in his arms. She pressed her cheek to his chest and snuggled closer against him, as if she had finally accepted his words and knew that she was safe.

What he hadn’t expected was for her slim leg to insert itself between his two, almost as if she was attempting to lock herself to him so that he could not escape her. The problem was that her night dress had worked its way up and had left just below her stomach bare. With her leg tucked between his two, her soft thatch of hair fit snugly against his groin and he hardened in an instant.

He warned himself to be good, while another part of him reminded that she was his wife and he had the right to take her. He shut his eyes tight against his warring thoughts. He didn’t want to take his wife like a common whore. And though many of the women he had been with had often praised his skills as a lover, he had no doubt they did so out of necessity. No one would dare say a bad word about Pacquito’s men or he would kill them.

He glanced down at his wife sleeping peacefully in his arms and at his hands that rested on her soft, warm flesh. If she knew the blood that his hands had spilled, he wondered if she would want him to touch her.

A soft sigh escaped her lips and it felt as if she kissed his chest. She burrowed even closer against him, her bottom shifting as if searching for something to settle against. He silently swore as he reached down to settle her tormenting movement before he did something foolish like pushing her on her back and delving deep inside her.

His hand rested on her backside just as she settled, his arousal slipping between her legs. She sighed again as if she had found the spot she had searched for. He stilled, and though he warned himself to remain that way, he couldn’t help but give her firm, round backside a light squeeze.

Her sigh was unexpected and of course it caused her lips yet again to brush his chest, as if in a kiss, which fired his blood and caused him to caress her derrière some more.

Damn, if he didn’t ache to do more—much more—than simply caress her backside.

He tore his hand away, as if he had touched fire and in a way he had. If he didn’t get away from her soon, he would plunge himself into the flames, though he feared that it would ignite them even more and he’d never be able to extinguish them.

How was he ever going to stay wed to his beautiful wife and never touch her? He had set himself an impossible task. Eventually, he would surrender to this burning need, and then what? Would she fear him even more than she already did?

He closed his eyes. He should have never returned. He should have stayed away, it would have been better for all. His father and mother had suffered and what of his sister Crista when she returned from Spain? What chance would his father have of arranging a good marriage for her with him being her brother?

Worst of all, this innocent young woman had been forced to wed him, committing her to a life of hell. Though if he was honest that wasn’t the worst of it, he may have fought against their union, told himself it was wrong, it should never be... when all along he wanted Rosa as his wife. He wanted someone to share his torment with him. And it was only a matter of time before he dragged her down into the burning flames, into his depravity, into the depths of hell.

The pleasant scent tickled Rosa’s nostrils and had her smiling. It was familiar, though she couldn’t recall from where. And all she wanted to do was linger in it. Along with the intoxicating scent came the overwhelming feeling of being protected. Nothing could hurt her. She was safe and she hadn’t felt this safe and protected since her parents died.

She snuggled closer to the warmth until she suddenly realized that she rested in someone’s arms. And then she recognized the scent... it belonged to her husband.

Her eyes popped open and she stared at his naked chest. Her body was pressed against his and—good Lord—he was naked. And her leg was tucked between his two and to make matters worse her night dress had ridden up almost to her waist.