“A consummate businessman, you must admit.”
“Better than Jay Gould,” Steve replied cynically, “but not by much. One of your investors, I presume, another shark in the waters. I would think a man such as yourself, worried about his reputation with the voters, would be more careful about who he went into business with. It would be a shame if it became known that you condone the use of virtual slavery in your mines. What would your constituents have to say about that? Seems to me the stigma of using slaves has a nasty connotation to it lately. Maybe some of the men who put you here condone slavery, but that war is over. How would it look if they found out about these conditions?”
Clearly irritated, Brandon’s knuckles whitened on the head of his cane and he scowled. “I pay the Mexican government for workers, and they provide them. I cannot dictate their policies toward prisoners.”
“No, but you can alleviate their suffering or refuse to use them.” Steve moved closer and saw in the senator’s face an uneasy awareness of his appearance. A tight smile slanted his mouth, and his blue eyes were hard and ruthless. “Maybe if you had to work below ground for a day, you’d know what it’s like to be treated inhumanely. If you think my choice of garments is my own, you’re wrong.”
“I know that, Morgan.” Testily, he added, “We can talk later after you’re cleaned up. You smell foul.”
“Senator, so do you.”
Anger tightened Brandon’s mouth, but he was wise enough not to comment.
Delgado was summoned, clearly unhappy that one of the prisoners—the very one who had started the riot—was now being treated as a guest. He complied with the senator’s request for decent food and clothing, but lodged a protest.
“But he is a bandit, señor! A prisoner!”
“By mistake. I’ll deal with the authorities. You just do as you’re told and provide him with food, clothing and a bath—the latter being the most important at the moment.”
Muttering under his breath, Delgado showed Steve to a small room to one side, but kept a wary eye on him, leaning against the door frame. “Crazy norteamericano,” he spat. “It would have been better had you been killed.”
“Perhaps for you,” Steve said softly in a Mestizo dialect that he knew the man would understand and Brandon would not. “You know I would like to kill you, eh?”
Delgado glared at him silently.
When Steve was washed and dressed, and had rejoined Brandon, the senator dismissed Delgado.
“See to the others. There are matters I must discuss with my—guest.”
Delgado nodded stiffly. ‘‘Sí, señor, but if you should need me to shoot any vermin…” His hand on the pistol he wore strapped to his hip was ample evidence of his meaning.
“Most of the vermin here are already wearing guns,” Steve said before Brandon could reply. “If I were you, Delgado, I would be more concerned with my own neck. I have a feeling the authorities will not be too happy with you.”
“I have done my job well, gringo pig! No man can say that I have not done what I was told to do. And if you think to make trouble for me, you may find that you have a tiger by the tail. I have friends in high places, much higher than a norteamericano who thinks he is so important.” He made a contemptuous gesture, slicing his palm into empty air. “You will soon discover who really owns Mexican silver. It is not all for gringos who care nothing for this country, only for their own pockets!”
“I see we have a patriot in our midst, Morgan.” Senator Brandon’s eyes were half-lidded, his tone dry. “A well-paid patriot, I should add. I wonder if his scruples suffer when he takes my money?”
Delgado made a strangled sound, started forward, then came to a swift halt when Morgan pinned him with a hard, gimlet stare. There was something intimidating about the blue-eyed gringo who moved with such competence, even as weak from hunger and mistreatment as he was now. It was in the way he carried himself, a competence that had been weighted down with chains since arriving at the Galena, but was far too obvious now.
Backing away, Delgado reached for the door handle behind him, keeping his eyes on Steve Morgan. “Keep in mind, Señor Brandon, that the new president may not be as agreeable as the old one.”
When they were alone once more, Brandon said harshly, “Why in hell are you here?”
“If you mean in Mexico, the answer should be fairly obvious. There’s been a revolution.”
Steve prowled the small room, glanced at maps and plats scattered on tables, noted the leather bindings of ledgers locked behind glass doors. A sense of wary tension pervaded the room, was obvious in the senator’s eyes. Damn him. He bought and sold men like cattle and then had the nerve to ask questions! Steve swung around to stare at him, saw him recoil at the sudden movement. “It’s not just coincidence that I was brought here after being ambushed.”
Brandon made an impatient sound. “You don’t still think I had something to do with that? You’re wrong. I had no idea where you were or what happened to you. Virginia is in Mexico City, but has not returned my wire or letters. No one seemed to know what happened to you. Even your partner, that Paco Davis, has just dropped out of sight. Hell, you have a habit of doing that yourself.”
“I have a bad habit of running into folks who want me to drop out of sight. Sometimes permanently.” He paused, then frowned. “What is Ginny doing in Mexico City? She should have gone back to my grandfather’s.”
“Surely you’ve realized by now that my daughter does as she pleases, and that we are usually not advised of her reasons for it. No doubt she changed her mind on a whim, or whatever motive she may have. Probably something to do with that damn Luna.”
“Luna?” Steve’s head snapped up and his eyes narrowed, nearly missing the senator’s quick frown and tightened lips.
“Yes. A General Rafael Luna, emissary from Spain or some such nonsense. He sent me a damned impertinent telegram telling me that I should focus on my business interests and leave my daughter’s welfare to those who could assist her. A damned insolent man.”
“Yes.” Steve rose from the chair and let the front two legs slam back to the plank floor with a loud smack. “I’ve had the dubious pleasure of meeting Señor Luna.”
“I’m not surprised. Is there anyone in Mexico you do not know?”
“Actually, I met him in Italy a few years ago. He was quite taken by…an opera singer.”
“Ah.” Brandon’s gaze was assessing. “Signorina di Paoli is a lovely, fiery young woman, if a bit…headstrong at times. Tell me, does she still provoke gunfights?”
“If she can. I’ll need some weapons, food, a horse.”
“Of course. I’m sure Delgado will provide them, whether he approves or not.” Brandon drummed his fingers on the wood surface of the desk, a soft sound. “You’re going to Mexico City, I presume.”
“Where is she staying?”
“Calle Manzanares. Give her my regards.”
Steve didn’t answer. He was remembering Rafael Luna and their last meeting, and thought of Ginny with the man.
Christ! It had been Luna in Ojinaga dancing with Ginny that night. He should have remembered him. But he had been too intent on his passionate, tempting little wife to pay more than perfunctory attention to her dancing partner. Now Luna had Ginny. And if he did to her what he had tried to do to Francesca, this time he would kill him. He should have done it last time. Now it might be too late.
29
Winter had come to Mexico City, with warm days and cool nights. President Díaz entered the city in triumph on November 21, and the citizens celebrated. Ginny was invited to palace balls, to the elegant, grand affairs honoring the new president, but found to her dismay that General Luna was her assigned escort.
Ginny struggled in a familiar nightmare, caught between pain and anger, old memories dredging up doubts. Oh God, not again! Should she even look for Steve? He’d disappeared so many times before, and yet she had the persistent feeling that this time, it wasn’t by choice. If only she could talk to P
aco, or even Bishop, but of course, she had no idea where they were, either.
And now to find out that Steve had another child…Why had he not told her?
She had vacillated between despair and rage since Luna had told her of it. If only she could believe it wasn’t true. But somehow, she knew it was.
Rafael Luna was too exultant, his satisfaction far too obvious for her to cling to the fiction that he was lying.
“Even your husband’s friend, Jim Bishop, knows of the child, Doña Genia. There are…reports on these things, and I have excellent resources to discover what I wish to know about a man I consider dangerous.” His lips pursed. “It is too bad he did not tell you about it, but I could help to soften the blow, should you need comfort.”
“You made a serious error if you thought my discovery of this child would entice me to your bed,” she told Luna, her tone icy. “Now I have little reason to want to find my husband.”
It wasn’t true, of course, and Luna must have sensed it for he only laughed. “Ah, but you will change your mind soon enough, Doña Genia, for being a woman, you will want to see his face when you tell him that you know, eh? Do not bother to deny it. I know the female mind well enough to suspect your purpose for being so angry and full of denials. Shall I tell you her name, perhaps, or do you wish to wait and ask your husband?”
Would putting a name to the betrayal really make it better? Or would it only engender more questions, more images of her with Steve? When Ginny hesitated, Luna smiled.
“Elizabeth Burneson. Her name was Cady when he knew her in New Mexico Territory. Now she is married, to a dull man who is most besotted with her, I am told, but then, he must be besotted to accept another man’s child as his own.”
“Perhaps he is only noble, Señor Luna, something you would not understand.”
“Would I not? Ah, perhaps you are right. I am so often puzzled by such men. Or the women who live with them until the man they really want comes back—which is what happens quite frequently, I have observed. But that will not happen this time, I am sure, for your husband is loyal to you now, and the children you have. He confides in you, yes? You are very certain of his love and fidelity, or you would be most dubious as to his reasons for running off to New Mexico Territory under the pretense of seeing an old friend again. I believe that was the reason he used last time, when he met this Elizabeth Cady….”
“Oh, stop it. Don’t you think me clever enough to see what you are trying to do? It won’t work. Steve and I have been through too much to allow silly doubts to come between us now, and I refuse to allow you, Señor Luna, to create suspicions between us. I will ask Steve about it when I see him again. That brings me to another question. When will you tell me where he is?”
“Why do you think I would know where your husband is?”
“Because it would appeal to your sick, twisted sense of justice to find out, to withhold the information from me. If you did not know, you wouldn’t be so certain I cannot find him.” Anger and frustration sharpened her voice, made it rise as she said, “For God’s sake, tell me! Stop playing your sadistic little game! What do you hope to gain from it?”
“All. I intend to gain all,” he said softly, and there was such a note of menace in his tone that she recoiled, a warning knell sounding in the back of her head. There was so much more to this than she had realized, but she could not allow him to guess her sudden fear.
“President Díaz himself has suggested that you do all in your power to find Steve, General. Would you deny him? After all, they are acquainted, as both used to fight for Juarez.”
“Yes, and you know how the friendship between Juarez and President Díaz ended, I presume. Have you thought, Doña Genia, that perhaps it is el presidente who wishes to remove men who may recall too much about his time with Juarez?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
But was it so ridiculous? Since Díaz had come to power, he had systematically and ruthlessly removed all obstacles to his complete governance. Already, men who had once been outlaws were being installed at his direction in the new police force, given the power to decimate those bandits who had plagued Mexico for far too long. Even Juan Cortina—the scourge of Lerdo’s office who had escaped prison and made a fool of el presidente—was being pursued again. Díaz did not wish trouble with the United States of course, and since Cortina had the rather embarrassing habit of conducting his cattle raids into Texas as well, Díaz must at least give the appearance of pursuit of the popular rebel leader.
Aware that Díaz was ruthless in his quest for absolute power, Ginny wondered uneasily if Luna might be right. If Steve knew too much about the new president, he could be viewed as an inconvenience best dealt with as unobtrusively as possible. His disappearance may well be beneficial, if a bit awkward to explain at first, as he was an ambassador.
Yes, she saw how it might be unpleasant for a new president to have an ambassador near at hand who reminded him of his former servitude to a man who had become his nemesis.
As if sensing her misgivings, Luna moved forward, his tone unctuous as he murmured, “Now you are distressed, Señora Alvarado. How unfortunate.”
“Spare me your false sympathy.” Ginny moved away from him, uncomfortable with his close proximity. He was always putting a hand on her somewhere, her arm or her shoulder, a hand at her waist to guide her forward—any excuse to touch her, and she disliked it.
“Stop hovering! You put me in mind of a buzzard, with the same hot gleam in your eyes as if you cannot wait to feast upon my flesh.”
“In a way,” Luna said with a smile, “that is very accurate. I would love to feast upon your beautiful flesh, taste your soft skin beneath my lips, run my tongue—”
“Enough!” Ginny whirled to glare at him. “You are entirely too bold. I insist you leave at once. What are you doing—”
“Taking what you offer with your eyes…your lips. Do you think I do not hear what you want me to hear? It is not what you say, but what you do not say that intrigues me most, perdida. Ah, did you think I do not know everything about you by now? I do. I have made it my business to find out.”
Ginny’s muscles tensed as he held her arm tightly, his fingers squeezing cruelly. There was a frightening intensity to his grip and his words, and his dark eyes were almost black as he stared down at her. She forced her muscles to relax, and saw an almost imperceptible shift of his body as he reacted.
“My, my, General Luna, you are very intense tonight. Whatever has happened to unsettle you?” Her head tilted slightly to one side and her mouth curved into a deliberately teasing smile as she lowered her lashes in a flirtatious glance sideways. “Surely you are not going to let our difference of opinion matter? I have my opinion, and you have yours. It should not be allowed to come between us.”
As she talked, she leaned back so that her hip rested against the wall by the window. Light slanted through the open shutters, glinting in Luna’s eyes and illuminating a faint scar that curved across one high cheekbone. A handsome man, admittedly, but cruel beneath his suave exterior. It was a perception she had learned far too well at the hands of men like Tom Beal, who had not had Luna’s sophistication. There had been others, with all the surface veneer of wit, education, intelligence and sophistication, men who had been just as ruthless and brutish as Beal beneath the facade they showed the world.
Luna was one of them. She knew it, felt it in every fiber of her being.
Rafael Luna put his hand on her throat, forcing her chin up so that she had to look into his eyes, his fingers a light clasp that was vaguely threatening.
“I hope you are not planning anything foolish, chica, for it would make me very angry.” His grasp tightened the smallest bit, restricting her breathing. “I am afraid that I would have to punish you were you to misbehave….”
A spurt of fear rendered her momentarily unable to do more than stare up at him, eyes wide and absorbing light from the windows so that she felt dazed, blinded by it. Her right arm dropped to
one side, fingers curling into green silk like claws. The outline of the dagger hilt was buffered by her skirts. It fit snugly against her thigh. She touched it lightly for reassurance.
Luna’s eyes narrowed fractionally. She forced herself to go still, returning his stare with what she hoped was a cool gaze.
“If you think you can intimidate me—”
“Ah, I know I can intimidate you, chica. But I wonder, has any man ever conquered you? This husband of yours, this Steve Morgan who is so competent, so fierce and noble that you love him so much, has he ever conquered you? Has he made you beg for him, made you yield all to him when you did not want to?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. You could not begin to understand what I feel for him. Do not even try.”
“You think I do not know about love? I do. I have felt it myself. It burns like a fire inside, makes a man do things he should not. Is it that way for a woman, too? I think it is. And you, passionate little gypsy with the hair like flame and eyes so green, you would do whatever you must to have your man, would you not?”
“If you are asking me to go to bed with you to find out where my husband is, I have told you before that I refuse.”
Ginny held his gaze. Her jaw tightened against the subtle pressure of his fingers cradling her throat, but she did not attempt to struggle or pull away. Defiance lit her eyes, and the cleft in her chin deepened as her mouth thinned to a taut line.
“Let go of me, General Luna. I would hate to have to explain to President Díaz how I got bruises on my face. And I must begin to get ready, for the ball at the palace is this evening and I haven’t made proper arrangements.”
Despite her bravado, a frisson of fear shivered down Ginny’s spine. Luna only looked at her with a small smile on his mouth.
“I think that I am done with waiting, fiery one. If you please me well, perhaps I shall tell you what I have learned about this paragon of a husband of yours, eh?”
“And if I do not please you?” Her hand slid downward, crumpling silk beneath her fingers as she tugged her skirt upward. A seductive smile played upon her lips, and she gave the general a glance from beneath her lashes. “I am married, and have tried to be a faithful wife to my husband. You ask of me what I do not wish to give, General Luna. What if Steve should learn of our…liaison?”
Savage Desire Page 25
