Read The Spanish Outlaw Online

Authors: Marie Higgins

The Spanish Outlaw (19 page)

“I wish you the best fortune in this endeavor. I am positive you will become even a greater detective after this.”

She gave a weak chuckle. “Thank you. But I must be honest and tell you...I was never really a detective at all. I wanted to prove to Mr. Pinkerton I could find you in hopes that he would make me an agent.”

He grinned. “I think you
have proven your point.”

“Actually, I know most of the things I have done were wrong. Perhaps Mr. Pinkerton was correct to keep me working inside the office instead of being a field agent.”

“I do not think you should sell yourself short, my dear.”

Satisfied with gazing into her eyes, he remained beside her, but the ache in his chest kept urging him to say more...to confess his love. He wouldn’t. Maybe he’d send her a letter in a few weeks and tell her his feelings, but now was not the time.

Regrettably, he dropped her silky hair and pulled away. “I better get some rest tonight.
Mañana
will be a busy day for both of us.”

Her mouth trembled when she nodded.


Buenas noches, querida
,” he said as he lay on his makeshift bed.

When she didn’t respond, he turned on his side, away from her. The bed creaked as she moved, and he heard her blow out the candle. In the stillness, her muffled sobs floated in through the air. His heart ached for causing her pain, but he remained on the floor. Going to her now
would only cause more damage, because he’d take her in his arms and comfort her with tender kisses, which he was certain would turn into more.

And i
n the end, he’d still send her home.

Chapter Thirteen

 

Vivian
walked off the ship with her arm hooked through Anton’s like a grand lady. The rich turquoise hue of her high-waisted dress made her feel like royalty. She sauntered proudly, knowing the deep cut of the bodice enhanced her gentle curves. Feeling very feminine, she lifted her bonneted head as the wind blew her carefully-coiffed ringlets against her cheeks.

Through the crowded docks of Seville, Spain, she held herself erect as she glided beside the perfect looking man. She glanced at Anton and studied him closely. For somebody who wasn’t trying to be noticed, he didn’t accomplish that feat very well. He was the most handsome man she’d ever beheld, and judging from the way he turned heads, other ladies agreed. Clean-shaven now, he produced more magnetism than she’d
seen before.

Black trousers hugged his legs, outlining their muscular build. The dark fabric of his coat pulled tightly across his broad chest, and the crisp white linen of his shirt made him as regal as a prince. His hair had grown longer since before the voyage, and now fell to his collar in beautiful black waves. But this only enhanced his
handsome looks and made her proud to be the woman on his arm. Unfortunately, she would lose that privilege by nightfall.

Anton hailed a fancy carriage to take them and their trunks to the nearest inn. As
Vivian sat waiting in the vehicle, she gazed out the window and admired the scenery. The land was greener than she had imagined; tall, full trees and shrubbery around almost every building. Ancient-looking structures made her gasp, and she yearned to take a stroll through each and every building, walk on every cobbled path, and lift up her skirts and race through the distant jungles that stretched for miles. Immediately, she fell in love with the old country.

The carriage shifted as Anton climbed inside, and once the door closed, the vehicle lunged forward into a steady ride. Anton looked at her and smiled, and her heart ached
again with sorrow.

“Well? What do you think of my homeland?” he asked.

“It’s lovely. It’s unfortunate you won’t be able to take me on a tour. I’d really like to see more.”

He patted her gloved hands folded on her lap.
“Perhaps another time.”

“If I’m ever back in Spain, I’ll call upon you,” she snapped, turning her attention out the window and remaining quiet for the short ride to the hotel.

When Anton registered them under Mr. and Mrs. Contreras, she tried not to appear shocked. After all, he had used this name on the ship. Anton was friendly to the porters who helped carry their trunks to their room, and he tipped the servants very well. One porter spoke to Anton in Spanish as the servant sneaked a peek her way. Anton chuckled and replied in his native tongue.

Vivian
arched a brow. What were they talking about, and why did Anton laugh when he looked at her?

After
the door closed and they were alone, Anton sighed heavily and sank against the wall. His gaze moved to her, and he smiled.

“What was that all about?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The conversation you had with the porter.”

He grinned, making her stomach do flip-flops.

“He said that your hair resembles
wheat fields at harvest time.”

“I suppose being in the sun, my hair is lighter than before.”

“It is. The porter also said it is a rare pleasure to see such hair color in our country.”

She shrugged. “Then he needs to get out more.”

“Here in Spain, it is rare to see a woman with lighter hair. It is a good thing you are leaving. My uncle would be able to spot you immediately, and I would definitely have to keep my eyes on you every second of the day.”

“Thank heavens I’m leaving tonight, then,” she mumbled.

He took a deep breath and released it slowly. He slipped off his over-coat and draped it on the back of a chair. “I think we managed to leave the ship without any problems. You definitely make a beautifully regal
señorita
.”

“Thank you,” she said without feeling as she yanked off her bonnet. “And as always, you turned out an excellent performance.”

She sat at the small vanity and peered into the mirror. Her lips were pulled tight, and sadness had taken the spark out of her eyes. It hurt her to know Anton insisted on sending her home, yet she wanted to lash out at him and make him feel her pain.

She yanked out the pins holding her hair in place. As each one clinked on the table, her rage intensified. Once they were all out, her hair plummeted down her back and shoulders. Her fingers plucked at the styled curls around her face, loosening them in the process.

Anton walked behind her and stopped. Meeting her gaze in the mirror, he removed his cravat, laying it on the top of the table. “Why are you straightening your hair?”

“I’m supposed to look like a boy soon, aren’t I?
I’m just readying myself for the part.”

Nodding, h
e touched one of the curls by her ear. “When I first saw you sitting on the balcony box at the opera, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever beheld.” His hand dropped to her shoulder and caressed the small amount of skin exposed around her neck. “Then, when you reappeared night after night for two weeks, I could not wait to meet you. During the scenes, I peered through the stage curtains at you. I could not get enough of your beauty.” He moved his hand and stroked her cheek. “I still cannot get enough.”

She wished he’d quit making her heart ache with his tender words. “Yes, I can tell.” She laced her words with ice. “That’s why you’re sending me to New York.”

He knelt by her side, taking her hands in his. “I am sending you home for your own safety. Believe me when I say that deep inside I really do not want to let you go, but I worry about my uncle harming you in any way. I shudder to think what kind of torture he would put you through.”

“Thank you for caring, but I think you’re using your uncle as an excuse.” She yanked her hands away and stood. Pushing past him, she marched to the window. She pulled back the curtains and looked out on the street.

He sighed heavily and stood. “You still do not believe me?”

She shrugged.
“Not about this.”

“But I suppose it does not matter now. You will be leaving later tonight, anyway.” He stepped up behind her and stroked her hair. “I just want you to know how much I will miss you.”

She remained silent as she fought the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.


Vivian, I do not understand why you are so angry. If you recall, you did not want to come with me in the first place. Now I am sending you home, and you are still not happy.”

Huffing, she spun around and faced him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yes, I’m still not happy. I’m beginning to think this was all planned.”

He shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“I think you go around the world setting out to break women’s hearts. I think it satisfies your male pride. You planned to make me fall in love with you, didn’t you? And yet, you’re going to send me back home anyway. You don’t care about my feelings, so quit pretending like you do.”

Large, but tender hands cupped her face as a smile touched his mouth. “You...love me?”

Another wave of pain yanked at her from the softness in his chocolate
gaze. “Not anymore.”

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “When did you lose this feeling?”

“During the carriage ride from the ship. As I looked out the vehicle’s window and realized you are truly sending me away. I lost all emotion where you are concerned.”

A twitch in his lip lifted to a grin. “Ah, but
querida
, you cannot turn loving feelings into hate that fast.” His thumbs stroked her cheeks.

“What’s the use of loving you?” Her voice broke. “I tried,
heaven knows I tried not to give my heart to you, but you purposely teased me with your sultry kisses and made me develop strong feelings for you. I’m innocent, and you know it, yet you still played out your gentle seduction. Couldn’t you tell how you affected me?”


Vivian,” he whispered, leaning forward as he brushed his lips over her cheek. “I wanted to affect you. I wanted you to love me.” He pressed his mouth over hers, but she turned her head and broke the contact.

“Why?” A sob tore from her throat. “So you could send me home? If you wanted me to love you, why are you being so merciless? Can’t you tell I want to be with you? Can’t you see I want to help?”

Anton groaned and buried his face into the curve of her neck as his arms wound around her. Heat surged through her body, and she trembled with desire, but tears continued to come.

“Oh,
Vivian, you do not know what your words are doing to my heart.” He lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. “As much as I want to keep you near me and love you like you deserve, I am still fearful my uncle will find and kill you.”

“But Anton.”
Her fingers threaded through the hair on his neck as she held onto him. “You’ve guarded me so far this trip, and when I’m in your arms, I feel so protected. How can your uncle get to me when you’ve been my hero since our first meeting?”

He groaned and covered her mouth with his, silencing her words. With a sob of pleasure, she clung to him and returned his kiss with urgency. Although her mind told her to stop, she didn’t. She couldn’t. This was her last chance to show him her love.

The thudding of his heart hammered against her chest, and she realized he must have also been struggling with an intense desire he couldn’t control. She could think of nothing else, for she burned with yearning beyond description.

As he kissed the pulse of her neck, he murmured tender endearments in Spanish.
Smiling, she tilted her head, enjoying the sensations running amuck through her. While listening to his deep voice, chills raced over her arms. She loved this man, and nothing would change her mind about him now. If only she could change his mind about her.

The mere thought of parting from his side, never seeing his handsome face or feeling his intoxicating touch again caused tears to gather in her eyes
once more. She tightened her arms around him and met his mouth, hoping to show him how she felt through her kiss.

How s
he wished he’d confess his love. But, therein lay the problem. Did he love her as much as she loved him? Dare she say it aloud again in hopes that he’d repeat those words? Yet the way he kissed her made her think he did have those feelings for her.

She would say it again, and in doing so, would elicit the same response from him. She just knew it.

She broke the kiss and gazed up into his beautiful eyes, mentally preparing the words she would say.

Smiling, he stroked her cheek. “You have made me very happy.” He kissed her nose. “And I promise, we
will
see each other again, after all of this is over.” He stepped back and pointed to her satchel. “But I fear the captain’s cabin boy will be here shortly. You must get in your disguise.”

Ohhh

She wanted to hit him, or scream at him, or…just cry. Perhaps telling him she loved him again wasn’t the best thing to do. Obviously, he still planned on sending her home no matter what.

* * * *

“I look ridiculous,” Vivian grumbled as she stared at herself in the vanity mirror. Her hair had been pulled tight against her scalp and stuffed in a man’s sea cap. The baggy gray coat hid her womanly figure, but she still didn’t think she resembled a cabin boy. Anton finished lacing up her heavy boots, another unflattering item she had to wear to hide her identity.

He stood and smiled. “You will pass. It is getting dark, and if my uncle’s men are watching, all they will see is a small lad.”

She glanced at Captain Bushwell’s cabin boy who stood against the wall. “Thank you for bringing an extra set of your clothes for me.”

He nodded.

“How are you going to get back to the cabin?”

“I’ll sneak in the back way. The captain will be here in a moment to come walk you to the ship.”

She nodded then turned her attention to Anton. Her heart had been lodged in her throat since their kiss. Anton hadn’t said any words of love, and he still acted as if he couldn’t wait for her to leave. She loved him, and yet she knew she’d never see him again.

“Well, I suppose this is it.”

His mouth dropped to a frown. “It is.”

“Will we ever see each other again?” she asked with a catch in her throat.

“I will live through this, and after it is over, I will come back to New York and find you.” He drew her into his embrace, and kissed her neck. “After all of what we have shared, do you think I will let you out of my life so easily,
querida
?” he whispered.

Her heart hammered as she clung to him. “Anton,” she said softly, tears brimming in her eyes, “you’d better not be lying to me.”

He kissed her neck again then withdrew enough to look into her eyes. “I am not lying. I have
never
lied to you.”

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