Valaquez Bride (12 page)

Juliet could only lift her eyes heavenward in disgust,
then breathe a disgruntled sigh as Pablo strode blithely away. He
hadn't matured one bit in the past year but she had, and this time she
wouldn't run away to escape his unwanted attention. If necessary, she
would stop trying to be so nice to him and tell him in no uncertain
terms why he never would appeal to her. She didn't want to be so blunt
but it looked as if he might force her to be. What a stupid, irritating
situation, she thought as she slipped her hands into the pockets of her
denim skirt. As she turned to stare across the paddock again, a rueful
little smile hovered on her lips. Now, if it were only Raul instead of
Pablo who was so eager to make her fall in love with him…

"Do you get your thrills from life by teasing young men,
Juliet?" Raul's deep voice interrupted her thoughts. As she spun around
to face him, his hands gripped her upper arms then slid downward to
remove hers from her pockets. He moved closer, pressing her against the
paddock fence, his eyes glittering dangerously as he lifted her
trembling hands up and pinned them against his broad hard chest. "You
aren't really interested in Pablo but you aren't kind enough to simply
tell him to leave you alone, are you? I was watching you with him. You
don't get rid of a man by touching his cheek or smiling up at him, all
wide-eyed and seemingly innocent. You only make him want you more and
you know that."

At the injustice of his accusation, Juliet blushed hotly
and struggled to free herself from his iron-hard grip. Her attempts to
escape were futile, however, and after a moment, she ceased resisting
to stand stiffly before him, her eyes sparkling. "You always think the
worst of me, don't you?" she accused huskily. "What do you suggest I do
to make Pablo leave me alone? I've tried telling him I'm not
romantically interested in him but maybe you think I should slap his
face or do something else equally dramatic so he'll finally get the
message. I was only trying to be nice to him; I don't want to hurt his
feelings but here you are, accusing me of being a tease. Well, I'm
not!" Her voice broke on the last word and her chin wobbled slightly as
the anger in her eyes vanished to be replaced by rather vulnerable
appeal. "Why can't I do anything to please you? What have I ever done
to make you dislike me so much? Do you suggest I try to have a
personality transplant? Or would you still dislike me, even if I could
change myself completely?"

Raul's lean features hardened. "Don't try your wiles on
me, Juliet. You may get more than you bargained for. You know very well
that I don't dislike you. I disapprove of you but I don't dislike you.
In fact, I think I like you much more than I should."

"You don't either," she whispered bleakly, her voice
revealingly tremulous. "You—you act like you hate me."

With a sudden roughly muttered imprecation, Raul pulled
her to him, his muscular arms encircling her waist. Green eyes flared
with passion as he gazed down at her and as her lips parted, his
fingers tangled almost roughly in the silky hair that tumbled down her
back. "God, you really know how to wrap a man around your little
finger, don't you?" he groaned. "How can a boy like Pablo be expected
to resist you, when I can't resist you myself?"

"Raul,
please
, you're wrong about
me, I…" Juliet's words broke off with a soft gasp as he
swiftly lowered his head and tantalized her with firm seeking kisses
over the madly beating pulse in her throat, up along the smooth line of
her jaw. She trembled as shivers of awareness radiated out over every
inch of skin in response to his caressing touch. The warmth of his
flesh seemed to sear her through the thin fabric of his white shirt and
her hands slipped inside his unbuttoned vest to stroke his lean sides.
Her breath caught as he pressed burning kisses into the slight hollows
of her cheeks, against her closed eyelids and along the creamy skin of
her throat. Whispering her name, he caressed the delicate contours of
her ear with the tip of his tongue, then nibbled the soft fleshy lobe
until she moved eagerly against him. Making her wait, he alternately
kissed first one corner then the other of her mouth. And when her small
fingers tangled in the thick dark hair on his nape, his hard lips
covered hers with hungry compelling swiftness. Juliet moaned softly; a
keen aching flared to life deep within her and kindled fires that
warmed and weakened her lower limbs as her slender arms encircled his
neck.

With a soft groan, he led her beneath the low boughs of
the chestnut tree and lowered her to the soft bed of grass. His
marauding lips explored the parted tenderness of her and his hand was
still tangled in her hair, pillowing her head. The lean strength of his
muscular body pressed her down into the springy mattress of turf and
one long leg pinned both hers with evocative weight.

Unfamiliar desires coursed through her, like fire in her
veins as his tongue tasted hers. Her mouth opened slightly, eagerly and
she arched against him.

"I
need
you," he whispered huskily,
lifting his dark head only to retake her lips, urgently at first, then
with slow compelling gentleness, his plundering mouth possessing hers.
His teeth closed on her lower lip, then the satiny skin of her throat,
nibbling tenderly.

Her body seemed to melt against his warmth as his hand
trailed along the rounded side of her breast, down to her waist, and
lower, to the gentle outsweep of her hips. Her heart leaped as he
breathed her name against the madly beating pulse in her throat. Almost
of their own volition, her fingers slipped inside his shirt, her nails
catching in the fine dark hair on his chest as she traced the muscular
contours of flesh and bone. He was so invitingly warm, so
overwhelmingly male that she delighted in touching him as much as she
delighted in being touched. "
Coqueta, atormendatora
,"
he muttered huskily, his lean hands grazing upward to cup her breasts.
His fingers pressed gently into the cushioned fullness; his palms
brushed slowly back and forth over the straining aroused peaks. A
tremor shook her slight body and his lips hardened on hers for a
tantalizing moment, then he lifted his head slightly. Leaning on one
elbow beside her, he brushed her tousled hair back from her cheeks. As
her eyes flickered open, then were lost in the hot glow burning in his,
he pushed aside the straps of her shirt, baring creamy smooth shoulders
to kisses that he pressed into the delicate hollows. His lips sought
the slight curving of her breasts above her bodice, then the scented
shadowed hollow between, arousing desires in her she had never before
experienced.

Trembling fingers explored his lean face, tracing the
sensuous outline of his lips and as he caught one fingertip between his
teeth, her drowsy gaze was captured and held by the spellbinding
message of his. "Kiss me again," she whispered compulsively. And he
did, with dizzying thoroughness, gently twisting her soft lips beneath
his. She was yielding completely to his superior strength, almost lost
in the moment, until his hands on her hips pressed her against the
hardening ridge of his body, alerting her to the danger she was
inviting. Inexperienced as she was, she knew what his response meant
and she also knew she couldn't satisfy the desire his body was
conveying. She struggled instinctively. "Don't.
Don't
!"
she whispered imploringly. "Raul, please, let me go."

"
Atormentadora
," he muttered again,
more accusingly this time, but he released her and sat up. Raking his
fingers through his hair, he allowed his dark gaze to sweep over her as
she sat up too, then a self-derisive smile played over his lips. "Yes.
You
do
know how to wrap a man around your finger.
You know I can't criticize Pablo for wanting you, when I can't keep my
hands off you myself."

Juliet winced and reached out to him but he rose lithely
to his feet and strode away, without a backward glance. As she watched
him go, she stood also on unsteady legs, then leaned wearily against
the rough trunk of the tree. A desolate expression settled on her
delicate features and she closed her eyes with a soft moan. What was
happening to her? How could she be so drawn to Raul when he thought she
was a heartless little flirt, a tease? Pride alone should make it easy
for her to resist his touch but it never worked that way at all and she
was miserable. If only he felt more for her than a mere physical
attraction, she wouldn't feel ashamed of her response to him. But he
didn't and as she reminded herself of that fact, she drew a deep
shuddering breath. Unshed tears burned behind her eyes; she felt as if
she had been through an emotional wringer. And
he
had called
her
the tormentor.

Will McKay strummed his fingers on the armrests of his
wheelchair. As he stared out across the courtyard toward the pool, he
shook his head and smiled ruefully. "So it was Pablo who was the
villain in this situation. But I suppose I'm to blame too for believing
him when he said you were in love with him but afraid to marry him
because you didn't think you would ever fit into such an aristocratic
wealthy family. I thought your fears were foolish and that's the only
reason I tried to persuade you to accept his proposal
—because I thought you really did want to marry him. You
silly child, I never would try to push you into a loveless arranged
marriage."

Juliet leaned forward in her rattan chair to squeeze his
hand, releasing her breath in an exaggerated sigh of relief. "That's
the best news I've heard in a long time. I really was confused last
year when you kept insisting I marry him. You've always been such a
romantic; then, all of a sudden, you
seemed
to be
pushing me into an arranged marriage and you were so insistent about
it, that I just decided to leave. I love you and I hated arguing with
you all the time."

Will smiled at her but his lips trembled slightly and
there was a suspicious dampness in his eyes. At last, he cleared his
throat and nodded. "I love you too, child. You must know that. I would
have been a lonely old man the past nine years without you. I want you
to know how grateful I am to you for the happiness you've given me."

"Oh, Uncle Will," Juliet murmured, her own voice thick
with emotion as he stroked her cheek. "You have no reason to be
grateful to me; it's the other way around. I owe you everything.
Without you, I would have been a real orphan." Her expression became
regretfully pensive and she chewed her lower lip. "I just wish I hadn't
run away last year. I should have stayed; we could have talked and
straightened out our misunderstanding. I'm really sorry now that I left
the way I did."

"I'm sorry too, and I hope you didn't get involved with
that disreputable rock singer simply because you were upset with me,"
Will said, his tone sharpening. "You should have known your
relationship with him wouldn't last."

"Oh, no, not you too," Juliet groaned, then shook her head
emphatically. "Uncle Will, I never was involved with Benny the way you
obviously think. He was and still is just a very dear friend. Why does
everybody assume he and I were—uh, living together for the
past eleven months?"

"You mean you weren't?"

"No! Absolutely not!"

"Oh, thank God," Will breathed, relaxing back in the
wheelchair. He raked his fingers through his thinning gray-brown hair,
then gave Juliet a somewhat stern stare. "But I don't think you should
be surprised that everyone assumes you and this Benny fellow were
romantically involved. What else could we all think? When a young man
and woman run off together, it's usually because they think they're in
love. Isn't it?"

"Well, yes, I guess so," she conceded reluctantly, then
spread her hands in a resigned gesture. "It just never occurred to me
that everyone would jump to that conclusion, maybe because I've never
had any romantic feelings for Benny."

"I'm glad to hear you're not completely lacking in good
taste then," Will responded with an unusual lack of tolerance. "That is
a very shabby young man. And I guess he sings obscene lyrics to the
accompaniment of loud, disharmonious noise he calls music."

"No, he doesn't as a matter of fact. He happens to be a
very talented guitarist and his repertoire of Old English and Early
American ballads and folk songs is extensive. He's a very popular
performer in coffee houses, especially now that Holly's singing with
him."

"Who's Holly?"

"Benny's wife. He married her about a month after we left
Granada last year," Juliet explained, then proceeded to tell him all
about her traveling companions, ending with Holly's confinement in the
hospital.

By the time she had finished, Will's opinion of Benny had
changed completely. "Well, I can see I misjudged that young man," he
said with an apologetic grimace. "I guess it was that unkempt hair and
those patched jeans that gave me the wrong impression. Think you can
forgive an old man for being so prejudiced?"

"I think I can," Juliet assured him. "I suppose we all
have our little prejudices."

"Umm, I suppose," Will murmured absently, stroking his
chin with his thumb and forefinger. He shifted his position, taking
care not to jostle his leg cast. "Well, I'd like to do something for
Benny and Holly. If she's going to have to stay in the hospital for
several weeks, the bill's going to be outrageous. Could I—do
you think they'd let me help them pay it?"

"I doubt it," Juliet answered honestly. "Benny wasn't even
very receptive to my offer of help. But I finally persuaded him to let
me use some of my trust fund if they really need money."

"Your trust fund?" Will exclaimed, shaking his head. "No,
honey, you come to me if Benny and Holly need help. I don't want you
making withdrawals from your trust fund." He smiled teasingly. "After
all, it'll make a very nice dowry."