Savage Desire

by Rosemary Rogers

  He sucked in a sharp breath, and his clasp on her throat loosened as his palm slid down over the bare skin gleaming above her scooped bodice.

  “It is not necessary that he know.” Sharp sunlight reflected in his black eyes so that they gleamed like pieces of jet, a cold glitter warmed by desire. Boldly, he cupped her breast, and when Ginny did not move or offer a protest, he molded it into his palm, fingers stroking her. “Since seeing you in Ojinaga, dancing with all the abandon of a Spanish gypsy, I have dreamed of having you. You are like them, you know, the fiery ones who have such passion in their souls. Only one other woman has ever intrigued me as you have— ¡Te quiero mi alma!”

  She allowed him to press hot kisses over her face and throat, his hands working at the low scooped bodice of her gown, hard and demanding against her breasts. Stifling a shudder, Ginny forced herself to relax, to lure him into heated complacence.

  If only I can keep him busy until I have a chance to free the knife….

  There was no question of yielding to him. Not even for Steve could she barter her body again. She had learned her lesson well. It was a sacrifice that Steve would not want from her, and when had it ever worked anyway? Men like Luna were without honor. He would tell her nothing once he had used her. Or worse, he would do as that fat Colonel Devereaux had done so long ago, trick her into giving him what he wanted in exchange for Steve’s freedom, then refuse to honor their bargain. No, if she gave herself to a man, she had vowed that it would be because she wanted to, and for no other reason.

  But now she had to play the part Luna expected of her, lure him into a sense of false security before she could use her knife.

  “Wait,” she murmured as he freed her breasts from their prison of silk and lace. “I must have your promise that you will tell me what I want to know.”

  “You want to know where your husband is? Ah, such a devoted little wife. How unexpected.” His hands were large and dark against the milky skin of her breasts; her nipples were tight beads between his fingers. “Perhaps, my dove, if you please me well enough, I shall tell you everything.”

  Where was Artur? Carmen? Oh, if only someone would come to the door of the sitting room, interrupt them so that she could think. She had to think, to delay Luna until she could get away from him….

  Luna continued to caress her, a teasing massage that made her shiver with revulsion. He laughed softly.

  “I think you like that. You cannot deny your own nature after all, mariposa…exotic little butterfly. See? I can make you squirm, make you beg for me…no, do not back away. You will like how I make you feel, though you may pretend that you do not. Yes, close your eyes if you must, but do not run away, little one.”

  A feeling of panic engulfed her as he held her much too tightly, his arm around her preventing her from reaching the knife strapped to her thigh. She remained calm with an effort.

  “You are hurting me. Has no woman ever told you that you must pursue her with gentleness instead of pain?”

  “But pain is part of pleasure, is it not? You know that, for you have experienced it. Did you not find it exciting? There is more pleasure to be found in passion if one is aware of the body’s limits, and the delight in going beyond them.”

  “I do not equate pleasure and pain on the same level,” she said sharply, and this time shoved hard at him with the heels of her hands. “If you persist, I will summon my servants to show you to the door.”

  “Ah, but your servants have gone for the day. I took the liberty of telling them that you wished to allow them to join the festival in the main plaza, and that they need not return until tomorrow. But you look so unhappy, my sweet. Are you not pleased?”

  “You know I am not! How dare you take it upon yourself to direct my employees. Perhaps it is best if you leave, General Luna, for I find that I do not care at all to be in your company any longer.”

  He only smiled. Sunlight behind him created a hazy glow that left his face shadowed. Outside, she could hear the tolling of church bells, and the muted sounds of celebration that filled Mexico City. No one would hear her screams if she tried. She had only her wits and her weapon to keep him at bay.

  Casually, as if it were his house, Luna strode across the sitting room to open the door to her bedroom beyond, then turned to look at her.

  “We have the afternoon before us, chica. Come, let us begin to discuss our bargain.”

  Ginny remained by the window, turning now with her back to the light, angled so that Luna could not see her right hand. With her left, she tugged her bodice up over her bare breasts and said coolly, “I have changed my mind. A woman’s prerogative. It is time for you to leave. I must begin to get ready for the ball tonight at the palace. President Díaz is expecting me. He’ll be worried if I do not arrive on time, so don’t think my absence will be unnoticed.”

  “The day belongs to us. El presidente does not expect you until much later this evening. We are alone. I will wait no longer for you, for I have waited too long already.”

  As he moved toward her, long swift strides that brought him to her in only a few steps, Ginny reached beneath her skirts and whipped out the wicked dagger. It briefly caught the light, a sharp glitter of warning, then sliced across Luna’s arm as he reached out for her.

  It brought him to a sudden halt, and he drew in a hiss of pain, staring in disbelief at the bloody gash opened in his sleeve and arm.

  “Little bitch, do you think that will stop me!”

  “It was not meant to stop you, only to warn you. I am not a novice with this knife, General, and you would do well to remember that should you try to come any closer.”

  Anger glittered in black eyes, and his mouth twisted into a sneer. But he inclined his head in a surrender, and said harshly, “I yield for the moment.”

  Ginny did not relax her guard when he moved a step away from her and pulled off his coat to examine his arm. It oozed blood, dripping to the carpets on the tile floor, bright-red splashes that slowly diminished.

  “You will forgive me, General, if I request that you tend your wound in your own home. Circumstances being what they are, I would be more comfortable if you left at once.”

  “I am certain that you would.” Luna slanted her a disdainful glance as he moved to the sideboard that held crystal decanters. “But surely you will be civilized enough to allow me a drink before I leave?”

  He poured a liberal amount of brandy into a small snifter and turned to face her, his white shirt stained with blood as he lifted his arm in a mocking salute.

  “To a beautiful gypsy whore!”

  Before she could anticipate it, he tossed the brandy into her eyes, temporarily blinding her as he leaped forward agilely. A crushing blow of his hand disarmed her, and she heard the knife clatter to the tile floor as Luna captured her arm.

  “And now,” he promised softly, “I shall have to punish you for your insolence. But I think you may learn to like it before I am done.”

  Half-blinded, struggling, Ginny screamed only once as he dragged her across the sitting room toward the door of her bedroom. Outside there was too much noise, too many shouts and even fireworks to celebrate Don Porfirio’s triumphant arrival. No one would hear her.

  As if reading her mind, Rafael Luna said against her ear, “Scream if you like, chica, for no one will come. The celebrations will last for days, and so, perhaps, will you. Would it not be entertaining, to lie in your wide bed for the next few days and explore all the ways that pain can add to pleasure? Yes, I can see that you want it…fight me if you like, for then I will have the pleasure of subduing you….”

  Ginny did fight, desperately, and with a savagery dredged from panic, but it did her no good. Luna countered her ineffectual blows with an openhanded viciousness that left her dazed, her mind reeling. She was only vaguely aware that he had stripped away her garments, leaving her only in a thin chemise that hid little of her body from his prying eyes.

  And, humiliatingly, he tied her to the four posts of the bed, usi
ng silken drapery cords to bind her wrists and ankles, leaving her spread-eagled on the mattress.

  Vulnerable, exposed to his lewd gaze, she lay helpless and waited for the inevitable. In a way, it was much worse than anything she had endured before, this waiting and knowing what was to come. She had seen men at their worst, and knew that Luna had waited too long for this moment.

  Rafael Luna came to stand beside the bed, smiling down at her. “You are even more lovely than I had hoped. Such soft white skin…. I will make you ready, make you want me as I want you.”

  “You will never make me want you!”

  “Little liar, I will soon prove to you the foolishness of your thinking. You will be surprised, I think, to find that your body responds to me whether you wish it to or not.”

  Straining futilely against her bonds, Ginny shuddered as his eyes narrowed at her, his expression intent as she raged at him.

  “You’ll never keep me! When Steve learns of this, you will wish you had not been so foolish.”

  “Pah! I have taken care of your estimable husband, and he will not be learning of this unless I tell him! Perhaps I will take you with me when I visit him, and he can watch while I take you. It would only be fair, as he once took a lady from me. Do you not think so, chica? He thought nothing of that, but I was in love with her. I swore vengeance upon Steve Morgan then, but I did not know it would be so sweet!”

  “Is that all this is? Vengeance?” She tried to turn her head to look at him, but he moved to stand slightly behind the bed, tightening her bonds. Silken cords dug painfully into the flesh of her wrists and ankles. “Then you have risked much for vengeance, because Steve will kill you for this one day.”

  “He will have to save himself first, and I do not think he will be able to do that.” The palm of his hand came down in a caress, making her wince. “But while he languishes in a dark prison, I will keep you with me. When we go to the palace to meet with el presidente tonight, you will be with me. All in Mexico City will know you are mine now….”

  “I belong to myself, not to you, not even to my husband. You may use my body, but you cannot own my soul.”

  Viciously, swearing at her, he loomed over her, but if he thought to break her, he was disappointed. Not even the humiliation of being at his mercy could do that.

  She had endured worse than this before, and she would survive Rafael Luna as well.

  30

  Night fell at last, the time of the president’s ball near. “Get up,” Rafael told her harshly, and pulled her from the bed. “And get ready to present yourself to President Díaz. I will choose your gown. And if you should think to tell him that I am holding you against your will, you might recall that I am the only man who knows what happened to your husband. It would be such a pity for you if he were to languish forever in a dark prison cell, would it not? Or perhaps it would not be so terrible after all, for you could then be free to have many lovers.”

  Prison! Ginny stood silently as he untied the silken cords around her wrists, freeing her at last. She gasped as blood rushed back into abused flesh. Luna smiled cruelly.

  “It will be said throughout Mexico City that you are my mistress. Do not disappoint those who want to see the famous Madame du Plessis, once a famous cortesana who has become an ambassador’s wife—and who now belongs to me.”

  He made her wear a daring gown; the bodice was cut far too low, the boned corset pushing up her breasts to reveal the edges of her nipples.

  “If it is your intention to have a prostitute on your arm today, you have succeeded admirably,” Ginny said with angry dismay when she saw her reflection, “for I resemble nothing so much as a street whore!”

  The gown, a copper silk shot with gold that turned different colors in the light, could have been beautiful, but it showed far too much of her, cut low in the back as well as the front, and worn off the shoulders. The skirts were slit, with gauzy petticoats beneath that were nearly transparent so that when she walked, the outline of her legs was clearly visible.

  And instead of being coiled neatly atop her head, her hair was loose, a coppery cloud around her face, held back on the crown by exquisite Spanish combs. Only her jewelry was modest, a topaz necklace and matching earrings.

  “I do not think President Díaz will appreciate my appearance at his palace,” she murmured, and ignored him when Luna only laughed.

  “Do not be so modest, chica. Every man there will notice you, and every man there will want you. Perhaps I will allow you to choose a lover to bring home with us tonight when the ball is over. Have you ever been with two men at the same time? Would you like that?”

  “I would like to put a knife into your heart,” she replied coolly, and reached for a silk shawl to pull around her shoulders. It was the only concession to modesty she was being allowed to take with her, and that only because the nights were chilly and they would not be back until well after dark.

  It was near Christmas, and the air was crisp, the earth slowly baking under a warming sun during the day. People milled in the streets, and the mood of the city was festive now that the rebellion was ended and Díaz was in power.

  “Like mindless cattle,” Luna murmured as their carriage rolled through the street. “They do not care who leads them to the trough, only that there is a trough.”

  “Yet these mindless cattle are people with dreams, love and hope, Rafael. If they are forced to concessions to live, then they concede. That does not mean they are mindless.”

  “You are a strange kind of woman, chica, an aristocrat with the philosophy of a peasant.”

  “Perhaps because I am as they are,” she replied, “at the mercy of ruthless men who care only for their own desires and not for what is just and fair.”

  “How noble. Did you learn that sentiment from your Juarista husband?”

  “Don’t sneer. Juarez was a good president.”

  “Juarez is dead. Díaz is now president. Will you say the same of him?”

  “I suppose that depends on what he does as president.” Ginny turned to face him, and said boldly, “You promised to tell me about Steve. I have done as you wished. When will you tell me where he is?”

  “You will know soon enough. While you may prefer not to believe it, I am a man of my word.” A strange smile played on his lips, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Damn you, if you intend to play some sort of trick on me. Do you even know where he is?”

  “At the moment, I’m not at all certain. I do know where I left him, however. Ah, do not look so angry, chica, or I shall have to show you what happens to naughty girls. But if you behave, you will know very soon where your husband has been. Perhaps then you can ask him how the mother of his other son is doing, eh?” He laughed when she drew in a sharp breath of outrage, and reached out to stroke her. “How lovely you are when you are angry, my butterfly. I shall miss you when I have left Mexico.”

  “That will be very soon, I trust.”

  “My business here is almost done. It may be more swiftly than even you hope. Now come. Put on a pretty face, so that no one will know that you are not happy to be with me. Remember what happens when you are defiant.”

  She turned to gaze out the window. The streets were overflowing with people. With the lanterns lit it was beautiful, the plaza alight with laughter and music and celebration.

  Would she have the opportunity to be alone with Díaz, to tell him Luna was holding her prisoner? If necessary, she would say it publicly, but she hoped that it would not come to that. It could be embarrassing for the president, as Luna was Adjutant General from Spain. There was always the chance her complaint would be treated lightly if she chose to make a public issue of it.

  The palace rooms were crowded with guests, but few of them were familiar to Ginny. Her days here with Maximilian’s court were so far in the past. All traces of the French occupation were nearly gone, but a faint poignant sadness still seemed to her to shroud the rooms.

  There were whispers, some of recognition
, others of shock when Ginny appeared on Luna’s arm. She ignored them as she had once done. Her chin was held high, her gaze directed straight ahead. But inside, a curl of shame burned so hot and bright, that she was nearly nauseous with it. All that sustained her was the thought that perhaps she would escape from Luna before the night ended.

  I will not go back to that house with him! He will have to drag me screaming down the street, and I don’t think he is truly prepared to risk that. Surely, there is someone here who can help me?

  But hope dwindled, for in the crush that thronged the rooms, she recognized no friendly faces, no one familiar enough that she would trust to ask for aid in escape. With her fingers lying lightly on Rafael’s arm, she floated at his side like a bronze shadow with haunted eyes.

  A huge topaz strung on a thin gold chain circled her neck. It nestled into the valley between her breasts, drawing the eyes of many men to the alluring shadow and high globes of flesh. But then, she would draw attention even without the necklace, and not just because of her daring attire.

  Indeed, in such a huge crowd she might have gone almost unnoticed if she were not so striking. Lamplight glinted on her fiery hair with a rich golden sheen, and her pale skin gleamed with flawless, translucent beauty. Only when one drew close enough to see into her slanted green eyes, was it apparent that she was unhappy and desperate.

  From across the room, she had an air of regal, aloof beauty. A tarnished rose, perhaps, with her shocking gown and low décolletage, but a rose of incomparable beauty, even in this sea of beautiful women.

  Luna kept her close, his hands occasionally brushing casually against her breasts, a proprietary touch that did not escape notice. It branded her as loose, and the women present drew aside when she passed, as if afraid of contamination should she get too close.