Authors: Sara Craven
'You are very quiet.' He was watching her. 'Have you run out of questions, chica?'
All, except for the sixty-four-thousand-dollar one, she thought shakily, and I don't think I want to know the answer to that.
She tried to smile. 'Tell me some more about Miguel.'
He shrugged. 'He was a friend, and the son of a friend. While he was at university, he became imbued with political ideals about equality. He saw it as his duty to work with the ejiditarios, and fight for their rights. He even tried to become one of them—not with any great success, as you see.'
'And you disagreed with him?’
'No. I respected his view, his ideals. But then the government's measures on land reform were not sufficient for him. They did not move fast enough. He began to say that landowners who were unwilling to surrender their estates should be dispossessed—by force if necessary. And he did not stop at talking. He led a group of peons to an estate north of here. They had guns, shots were fired, and an overseer injured. Miguel has placed himself outside the law.'
Nicola asked huskily, 'What happened? Did the landowner agree to their demands, and give up his land?'
'Si.' His mouth curled. 'The spineless fool.'
Her heart missed a beat. 'You wouldn't do so?’
'No,' he said softly. His eyes met hers across the table, as hard as obsidian. 'What I give, I give, but I allow nothing to be taken from me against my will.'
She went on looking at him, trying to tell herself she had imagined that note of menace in his voice.
He said, 'You appear nervous, chica. Are you?'
'No,' she denied too hastily.
'Don't lie to me. I can see fear in your eyes. I told you once how much you can learn from a woman's eyes. I am glad that you have taken off your glasses at last, Señorita Tarrant.'
Her throat seemed to close with fright. She said, 'How—how do you know my name?'
'You still wish to play games?' He shrugged. 'While you were asleep that first day I looked in your bag and found your passport. I had to know, you see, who was masquerading as Teresita Dominguez.'
'But how did you know?' Nicola said huskily. 'You haven't seen Teresita since she was a child.'
He shook his head. 'Wrong, señorita. You see, I have also been playing a game with you. It is my cousin Ramon who is a stranger to Teresita. I know her well.'
Nicola had a weird sensation that the cabin walls were closing in on her. She pushed the stool back so violently that it fell with a clatter, and stood up.
She said, 'Who are you?'
He rose too. He seemed to tower over her. 'I, señorita? As I am sure you have guessed already, I am Luis Alvarado de Montalba.'
She heard herself gasp, saw the barely controlled anger in the dark face, the glitter in his eyes, and saw his hands curving like talons as he reached for her. She remembered the hawk plunging on its prey out of the clear sky, and cried out as she too plunged into swirling darkness.
CHAPTER FOUR
Consciousness returned slowly. Nicola was aware of a feeling of nausea and oppression, and then a cup placed at her lips. She was told succinctly, 'Drink,' and liquid like fire trickled into her mouth and down her throat. She moaned faintly and moved her head from side to side, trying to escape, but the arm which held her was implacable, and she was incapable, anyway, of any real resistance.
Eventually she opened her eyes. She was lying on the bed in the alcove, which explained the sense of oppression. She turned her head warily and surveyed the rest of the cabin. The lamp on the table had been turned low, and this, with the firelight, provided the only illumination.
He was there, her captor, her enemy, sitting beside the fireplace, staring into the flames. Then, as if aware that she had stirred, he turned and looked at her.
Nicola made as if to sit up and realised just in time that her blue dress was lying across the foot of the bed, and that her only covering was her lacy half-cup bra and tiny briefs. She snatched at the blanket and wrapped it around herself quickly, then realised what a fool she was being. There was only one person who could have removed her dress, so what use was there in trying to conceal herself from him? He could already have looked his fill while she was unconscious, she thought, shamed to her bones.
Something else she noticed too. Her bag had been emptied and her money, tickets and passport stood in forlorn heaps on the table.
Luis Alvarado de Montalba rose from his stool and walked across the room. Nicola turned her head away and closed her eyes to block out the sight of him. Unbidden, a tear squeezed out from beneath her lashes and trickled down the curve of her cheek.
'Weeping, chica?' he mocked. 'What for? Your past sins, or their future retribution?'
She said in a low voice, 'I can explain.'
'I am sure you can,' he said drily. 'I am sure your fertile imagination can probably conjure up at least a dozen explanations, but this time I want the truth. Where is Teresita Dominguez?'
'Safe from you by this time, I hope,' she said wearily.
'You speak as if I pose some threat to Teresita,’ he remarked.
'Don't you?' Her voice was bitter. 'I suppose an ego like yours can only imagine that a proposal of marriage from you would flatter and overwhelm any woman. It would never occur to you that Teresita would find the prospect of marrying you utterly repulsive.'
'You speak as if I planned to drag her to the altar by her hair.' The dark eyes glinted as he looked down at her. 'I promise that I had no such intention. I believed that she was as—resigned to the idea of our marriage as myself.' He paused. 'But I had not allowed for the influences which would be brought to bear on her once she had left the convent.'
Nicola gasped. 'Then—you knew about that?'
'Naturally I knew,' he returned impatiently. 'She was my ward, therefore it was my business to know when she left the shelter of the accommodation I had provided for her. However, I was assured by the general manager of Trans-Chem that you and the other girl were respectable, and that Teresita would only benefit from your company. How wrong he was!'
'Then you also knew we'd met Teresita at Trans-Chem?' Nicola sank back on the mattress, utterly chagrined.
'Of course. I arranged for her to work there on a temporary basis at one time, because she was insistent that she wished to have a job like other girls.' A wintry smile touched the corners of his mouth. 'I imagine you know how that worked out. She was given the job as a favour to me because I was on the board of the company for which Trans-Chem were acting as consultants. I imagine it was only out of respect for me that she was not ignominiously sacked on the first day.'
'How well informed you are,' Nicola said bitterly. 'It was lucky for Teresita that your informant slipped up over Cliff.'
'If you refer to Clifford Arnold, I knew about his visits from the beginning, but I did not take them seriously.' His mouth twisted cynically. 'I did not grudge the child a flirtation. Knowing her, I was sure it would go no further than that.'
'Then you're wrong.' Nicola lifted her chin defiantly. 'Cliff is Teresita's husband by now.'
'I would not be too sure of that,' he said coolly. 'There are lengthy formalities before any marriage can take place between a Mexican national and a foreigner.'
She heard him with dismay. The legal aspect of the situation had not really occurred to her. She'd heard so much about the ease of divorce and marriage in Mexico that she had not realised there could be any snags where the bridal couple were of mixed nationalities.
So it had all been for nothing, she thought miserably, and a little sob escaped her.
'Don't think you will escape the penalties of your actions by such abject behaviour,' he said crushingly. 'What happened to the spirit you showed over the past two days?'
'I'm not crying for myself,' she choked, 'but for Teresita.'
'Then I would save your tears,' he said caustically. 'She seems in little need of them.'
'No?' She stared up at him accusingly. 'When you're going to go to Mexico City, and drag her away from the man she loves? When you're going to ruin her life?'
He shrugged. 'Teresita has taken her future into her own hands. Whether or not her life is ruined would seem to depend on herself and this man she has chosen. However, she is of age, so legally no concern of mine. I shall not interfere.'
Nicola digested this in some bewilderment. 'But don't you even care?'
'Oh yes, chica,' he said silkily. 'I care that I have been made a fool of. I care that Teresita allowed the arrangements for our marriage to go ahead without informing me that she no longer wished to become my wife. I care that a stranger has forced her way into my life, throwing my plans into chaos.'
'But what does that matter? You never really wanted Teresita. You can't have done!'
'The match was made between our families,' he said bleakly. 'Perhaps neither of us was overjoyed at the prospect, but we could have expected to be reasonably happy—eventually. It is time I was married. I have a number of houses, but no real home. I need a son to whom I can pass on the inheritance I have built for him. I need some grace and serenity in my life. I felt Teresita could give me these things.'
Nicola's eyes flashed. 'It sounds a very one-sided bargain to me. What would Teresita be getting in return for bearing your children and surrounding you with 'grace and serenity'? The sort of joyless, loveless relationship which your family has specialised in probably for generations?'
His mouth curled. 'You will not speak of my family in that way, señorita. Your tongue will be your downfall.'
'Don't you like to hear the truth?'
His hands descended on her shoulders, jerking her into a sitting position.
'And what do you know of truth?' he said harshly. 'You—who have acted a lie since the moment I saw you. What do you know of love? You talk a great deal, chica, but your eyes tell me that you are as untutored in passion as Teresita herself.'
His words were like a lash across an open wound.
'That isn't true,' she cried in protest. 'I've been in love—deeply and passionately in love. I love him still. That's why I decided to help Teresita to be happy. Because I knew that she deserved better than the pallid, cold-blooded arrangement which was all you were offering.'
His smile was grim. 'So you think me cold-blooded, amiga? I promise that Teresita would not have found me so. And neither will you.'
He pulled her towards him, and his mouth descended mercilessly on hers. She was unable to breathe or even think coherently. Panic rose in her, and she beat with clenched fists on his shoulders, but neither his hold nor his brutal assault on the softness of her lips slackened even for a moment. Her half-covered breasts were crushed achingly against the muscular wall of his chest, and a whimper rose in her throat as his hand twisted in her tangled hair, dragging her head back, so that his mouth could travel bruisingly down the length of her throat.
When she could speak, she said pleadingly, 'No-please!'
He lifted his head and stared down at her, his eyes glittering with mockery, and something else that she was frightened to interpret.
'Who is speaking now, chica! The experienced woman of the world in your imagination, or the frightened virgin of reality? I want the truth!'
Her throat closed, making speech impossible. She could only shake her head, staring up at him with eyes that begged wordlessly for understanding, even for mercy.
Almost gently, he lowered her back on to the mattress. Then he sat up, his eyes travelling slowly and broodingly down the slender length of her body. Nicola felt humiliated under the intensity of his gaze, but she made no effort to drag the blanket around her, or even shield herself with her hands. She deserved to feel this shame, she thought, just as she deserved every harsh word he had thrown at her, and more. Whatever her private opinion of his motives or morals, she'd had no right to interfere. He was entitled to be angry, even to exact some kind of retribution, but not—in that way. Dear God, not that.
His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him, and one finger stroked softly and sensuously across the swollen outline of her mouth.
He said very quietly, 'You have done me a great wrong, amiga. You have insulted me, and robbed me, and made me lose face. Are you prepared to make amends?'
'If I can.' She tried to sound brave, but in spite of her efforts there was a quiver in her voice.
'Oh, you can,' he said softly. 'I need a wife, as I told you. Thanks to you, the girl I had chosen is lost to me. The least you can do is take her place.'
For a moment she lay staring up at him, her mind trying to make sense of what he had just said. She began to shake her head slowly.
'No, you can't—I couldn't! You're not serious.'
'No?' he asked mockingly. 'Perhaps another display of my ardour will convince you.' He bent towards her, and her hands came up, pushing against him.
'No!' Her voice cracked in panic, and he laughed.
'Then say you will marry me, and I will wait like a gentleman until you are legally mine.'
'But you don't want to marry me. You can't want to. We don't know each other. You don't like me...' The words tumbled over each other. She knew she wasn't making any sense, but then what was in this whole crazy situation?