Guerrero was surprised. Clearly he hadn't expected the return of his bird. “Señor, that is most kind⦔
“Think nothing of it. I'll even give you back your money. El Tigre will win the fight, I'm certain.”
“
SÃ
, El Tigre never loses. But the stakes between you and de Lovis must be very high for you to go to such trouble and expense.”
Daniel extinguished the cigar in an ashtray and smiled at Guerrero. “What I do, señor, is done for love. Only love.”
“El Tigre will win, never fear. I can't wait to see Raoul's face when he discovers that you now own the cock. He once took liberties with my late wife who was quite young and pretty. I'm only too glad to oblige you, Señor Flanders.”
Again, Daniel thanked Señor Guerrero, and when he left the library he was filled with plans. He'd win the cockfight, and he'd win Lianne. No matter what Raoul was, he would keep his word about the bet. It was only the gentlemanly thing to do. However, Daniel suspected that Raoul would attempt to keep Lianne while making it seem that he was freeing her. He must be careful.
When he entered his room, he discovered a luscious Isabelle reclining on his bed. All she wore was a sheet, and her long dark hair cascaded around her shoulders.
She smiled invitingly. “I wondered if you'd ever come to bed tonight, Daniel.” Her voice was a purr. He felt an ache in his loins, but he didn't want Isabelle.
“Need I remind you that your room is down the hall?”
“But this is where I choose to sleep.”
He pulled off his jacket and began to undress. “Suit yourself,” he said and climbed into the bed.
Isabelle snuggled against him, not sure how to take his last remark. She nibbled at his ear, but Daniel lay there with his eyes closed. What is wrong with him, she wondered. She knew he was all male. In Madrid his sexual prowess had nearly worn her out.
“Daniel?”
“Hmm.”
“I want you to make love to me.”
Slowly he opened his eyelids until his ocean gray eyes were visible.
“Is that a command?”
Isabelle blanched at the amusement she heard in his voice. Could it be he thought her a foolish woman, a woman who was only good for one thing? Anger boiled in her. She wouldn't allow Daniel Flanders to ignore her.
“
SÃ
,” she spat. “I want you to love me.”
“Isabelle,” Daniel said, growing tired of her, “your poor dead Franco may have serviced you upon demand, and I suspect too much of you may have been the cause of his death, but don't think you can order me to perform stud service. I don't want you tonight. Now be a good girl and go back to your room. I'm tired.”
“Tired, is it?” Her black eyes snapped. “You'd not be too tired if Raoul's
puta
was beside you. You want her, but let me tell you this, Raoul will not give her up to you.”
Daniel threw back the covers, and in one swift move, he hoisted Isabelle over his shoulder and got out of bed. He pulled open the door and tossed her casually onto the hall floor. He pointed down the hall. “Your room is down there. Or perhaps another gentleman will appreciate your company for tonight. Knock on some doors and find out.”
Then he shut the door in her shocked face.
The huge clock in the hallway had just chimed two when Raoul offered Lianne his arm. “Shall we go?” he said, his eyes sweeping over the vision she made in a white skirt with peasant top, embroidered at the neckline and hem with bright flowers. Her long hair was pulled up on one side with a white rose he had plucked from Señor Guerrero's garden that morning. Her green eyes flashed like twin emeralds. A ripple of amusement coursed through him. How she hated him!
“You can't make me watch, Raoul. I refuse to watch those cocks fight. It repulses me as much as this bet you and Daniel made. I'm not a piece of property to be disposed of. I am your wife.” She stood apart from him, not giving him her hand. Her hatred of him wasn't easy to conceal and she knew he read it on her face easily.
“You should have remembered that when Daniel took you from our home. As I recall you weren't too eager to return when I arrived to claim you. My wife? Our marriage is a sham. I know you don't love me.”
“Then let me go. Divorce me,” she said quietly.
He shook his head. “No,
querida
. You belong to me and only death can separate us.”
A chill passed over her. How far would Raoul really go to keep her? If she left him would he carry out his threat against Daniel? Of course, he would, she told herself and allowed him to take her hand. “Then you don't intend to honor the bet if Daniel wins.”
“But of course I do,
querida
. To renege on a bet is unthinkable.” He smiled down into her puzzled face. “However, you mustn't get up your hopes of belonging to Daniel Flanders permanently. I won't allow it.”
When they left their room and walked to the sheltered area which Señor Guerrero had set up as a cockpit away from the main house, Diego hailed him. He sauntered toward them looking more than ever like a small monkey in his dark jacket, but his face was bright.
“Carmen sends her regrets,” Raoul told him. “The sun disagrees with her, and her delicate constitution abhors violence.”
“Too bad.” Diego didn't look the least upset as his eyes rested on Lianne and the lush picture she made. His gaze drifted slowly back to Raoul and he rubbed his hands together. “El Diablo is in rare form. There shall be much blood this afternoon.”
“
Bueno
. The handler has prepared him well.”
“You both disgust me!” Lianne cried.
Raoul didn't suppress a laugh. “My dove, you must understand the game. The cocks are bred to fight. If they don't fight, they're killed. A rooster can only service so many hens. A farm can have only so many roosters. The remainder must fight if they wish to live. It is their fate. The birds wish this, otherwise, they'd not attack so viciously.” He tipped her chin and looked into her fiery eyes. “Only the strong survive, Lianne.”
Raoul made the sport seem so sensible, and when they stopped at the cockpit she felt little shock to see finely dressed gentlemen and their ladies gathered around the small arena where the fight would commence.
Her eyes instinctively moved to Daniel's towering frame. She had expected to see Isabelle Hidalgo at his side, but she noticed the woman was standing next to an elderly man who appeared much taken with her.
Daniel inclined his head and approached them. “Betting fever runs high today,” he said smoothly.
Raoul gave him a tight smile. “Certainly. El Diablo is a winner, and the populace loves to win.”
“Ah, Raoul, how true. El Diablo is a fine bird. He is strong and proud as his owner. I wonder how he'll feel when El Tigre wins the match.”
“El Tigre shall not win, Daniel. El Diablo will be proud, I shall be proud, when his opponent lies dead in the arena.”
“So sure of yourself, de Lovis,” Daniel said and flashed a grin.
“I am a man who knows the outcome, who has great confidence in El Diablo.”
“Good. You'll need it. Here.” Daniel reached into his pocket and tossed a small yellow vial to Raoul. “I hope you can still smile after the match. I bought El Tigre from Señor Guerrero. I don't believe I'll have use for this.”
“Bastard!” Raoul hissed and gripped the vial with tight fingers.
“You look quite pale,” Lianne commented, knowing that whatever was in the vial had somehow been meant to ruin Daniel's chances. She couldn't suppress the smirk which hovered around her lips.
Raoul nodded his head at familiar faces in the crowd, and Lianne felt the tight pressure on her arm increase as they took their places. She couldn't help but notice the contrast between Raoul and Daniel. Raoul looked concerned though he attempted to hide it with a bravado she imagined he didn't feel. Daniel, however, looked quite merry with twinkling gray eyes which warmed her.
The startling contrast between the men was mirrored in their respective birds. The short, fat Mexican with the solemn face who served as El Diablo's handler came forward. One glance told Lianne why the bird was so named. He was a huge, black cock with eyes full of black fire. She shivered because he seemed to resemble Raoul. El Tigre was a russet red with gray spots, not an overlarge bird. In fact he looked rather thin, but she heard someone in the crowd say that El Tigre was very fast despite his build.
The two handlers held their birds against them, and Lianne saw that long steel-pointed gaffs were attached to their natural spurs. The birds seemed eager to be let loose, but it wasn't until Señor Guerrero appeared and motioned to another man who served as the referee to begin the event that they were dropped onto the dirt floor in the middle of the pit.
The moment the birds landed, the refined, well-dressed men in the audience went wild. Their mood changed from civility to murder. Lianne saw the hot, fierce fire in their eyes and heard their voices raised in betting. When El Diablo rushed for El Tigre new bets were made. When El Tigre countered, the bets were in his favor.
There was a wild collision of feathers, beaks and claws. A thin mist of spraying blood streaked the air. Lianne felt sick to her stomach. Some of the women left the pit to escape the blood-drenched atmosphere. She moved to join them, but Raoul halted her with a firm hand on her arm.
“The game isn't over,
querida
. Do you leave because your lover's bird is losing?”
Lianne hadn't realized that El Tigre was losing. In fact she didn't care. The sight of the poor creatures sickened her. All she wanted was to escape this brutal scene.
“I feel sick, Raoul.”
“Stay,” he said in a demanding tone. “Stay and see your lover in defeat.”
Lianne couldn't help but think how strange Raoul was. It didn't matter to her if Daniel won or lost. She'd love him anyway. Apparently winning mattered a great deal to Raoul and to Daniel. She watched as Daniel became as immersed in the event as everyone else, saw the bloodlust in his eyes.
A huge shout went up as El Tigre flew at El Diablo. His gaffs pierced the ebony bird's head before they separated. Blood trickled down the bird's beak and his head tilted to the right. He tripped, almost as if he were drunk, and kicked out, flapping his wings in wild abandon.
“El Diablo has been brained,” Lianne heard Diego say worriedly to Raoul.
“The bird won't die if his brain is hit,” Raoul said calmly, but he didn't look as confident as he sounded. “El Diablo may not feel the injury for hours.”
“But if he is injured again, Raoul, El Diablo will die. You'll lose the match.”
Raoul looked hard at Diego. “Raoul de Lovis never loses.”
At that moment Lianne's attention was drawn to the ring. She watched in fascinated horror as El Tigre took advantage of his opponent's disorientation. He drove the three inch gaff attached to his left heel straight into the stomach of El Diablo. Blood spewed everywhere. Women screamed and moved out of the way. Daubs of bright crimson stained the front of Lianne's dress. As far as she was concerned the match was over. She didn't care what Raoul thought or said. She picked up her skirts and fled through the arches of the shelter to the bright clear air, away from the wild cheers of the crowd.
Taking deep drafts of air, she calmed herself, but she'd never forget the awful spectacle of two animals as they fought to the death. How barbaric it was! She felt sick because of what she had witnessed but also because of the way Daniel had participated. She'd never known he possessed a dark side, then the thought struck her that perhaps he loved her so much, he'd do anything to have her. But she knew it wouldn't matter that Daniel had won the match. Raoul didn't intend to free her.
“So you think you have won!”
Lianne turned at the venomous sound of Isabelle Hidalgo's voice. The woman glared at her from hard eyes. The bright orange of her dress enhanced the color of her cheeks.
“Go away.” Lianne didn't wish to confront the woman. The afternoon had been too much for her, and she guessed her day would worsen once Raoul found her.
“
Puta,
how dare you tell me to go away! I am Isabelle Hidalgo, wife of one of the wealthiest men in Madrid. You are nothing but an opera singer!”
Lianne nearly laughed. She made it sound so vile. “Your husband is dead. I've heard what a merry chase you gave the poor man.”
“Franco loved me.” Isabelle actually pouted for a second, then her face twisted in a sneer. “You were Raoul's whore before he married you, and your ways have not changed. You want Daniel now, but you can't have him. He is mine! I'll never give him up.”
“What if he doesn't want you?” Lianne said and smiled pityingly. “He's told me more than once that you were only a diversion.”
Isabelle screeched, and Lianne would have been the victim of red claw-like fingernails if Daniel hadn't come along and hauled Isabelle from the ground before she reached Lianne.