Savage Desire

by Rosemary Rogers

  Men noticed, eyes staring as he toyed with the edging of her low bodice, hopeful gazes waiting for it to fall away and expose her to their lecherous gazes. Ginny began to feel quite nauseous, and focused instead on the others in the huge room, so many there that it was difficult to see the walls opposite where they stood.

  It was not as surprising as it might once have been to find a liberal sprinkling of Americans celebrating Díaz’s ascent to the presidency, for Mexico’s future was closely intertwined with that of the United States. New policies were crucial.

  Still, as her gaze drifted around the room, it was a shock to Ginny to see Jim Bishop in attendance, and she had the inescapable feeling that Rafael Luna had known he would be there.

  “Is this my answer?” she murmured just before Bishop reached her side, and heard Luna laugh softly.

  “General Luna,” Bishop acknowledged with his usual imperturbable smile, “and, of course, it is always pleasant to see you again, Mrs. Morgan. Or should I call you Señora Alvarado?”

  Relief flooded her, and she was almost giddy with it as she greeted Bishop, edging away from Luna, who let her go without a murmur. There was a slightly hysterical edge to her laughter as she said, “Mr. Bishop! Perhaps I should not be so surprised to see you here, but I am. You have met General Luna, I see, and you must know President Díaz. Why, it sounds as if I’m babbling, when I am only glad to see you again….”

  “May I speak with you privately? I am certain that the general will not mind, will you?”

  Jim Bishop gave her his colorless smile, nodded to Rafael Luna and steered Ginny to an alcove half-hidden by a huge potted palm.

  “I am glad to see you safe,” he said before she could speak, “for everyone has been worried about you. You are well, are you not?”

  “No, but now is not the time or the place to confide to you all the details, except that you must rescue me from Rafael Luna!”

  “Yes, I rather thought you looked unhappy.” He gave a discreet cough. “It was reported that you were in his company willingly. I had to be certain, you understand. You’ll not have to go with him, I’ll see to it.”

  Ginny grasped his arm, her tone urgent. “Steve is in a prison somewhere! You must find him. General Luna may know where he is. Oh, you have to find him, Mr. Bishop, before Luna gets to him. He hates Steve, and wants to kill him!”

  “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that. No, don’t look at me that way, and please, if you will, keep your voice down. It has come to my attention that Steve has already freed himself, and should soon be in Mexico City.”

  Her knees began to quiver, and the hand she had put on his arm trembled as she said, “He is safe?”

  “As safe as a man like him can ever be.”

  “Why, Mr. Bishop, is that humor I hear?” She smiled, nearly giddy with relief. A trace of a smile touched Bishop’s thin lips, slightly warming his gray eyes as he regarded her.

  “That is a most interesting gown, Mrs. Morgan.”

  “Yes.” The swift glance she shot Luna was filled with loathing. “It was suggested I wear it this evening.”

  Bishop merely nodded, not asking any embarrassing questions, and Ginny wondered if he had known about Luna all along. It would be just like him, to wait until the time was convenient for his own plans before he interfered!

  “I think it would be wise if you were to leave very soon,” Bishop said. “I will have one of my most trusted men escort you home.”

  “Oh, yes, I would like to leave as soon as possible,” she said in a low voice, “but there is the matter of General Luna…. If he decides that I cannot, he is not above creating an embarrassing scene and making trouble.”

  “I will see to all the details, and deal with General Luna myself—unless it becomes unnecessary.” Bishop’s attention was suddenly directed over her shoulder, and she knew him well enough now to recognize his abruptly altered tone as a clear sign of perturbation.

  Ginny, half-afraid that Rafael had come up behind her, set her chin in a defiant slant and turned, steeling herself for a public confrontation that would only be humiliating. It was the final degradation, but it would be behind her and she would be free of him!

  Luna stood behind her, elegant and saturnine, his handsome face a mask to hide his cruelty. But he was not facing her and Bishop, his back turned to them as he looked toward the front of the room. His frame vibrated with an intensity that was so thick it was almost palpable. She recoiled slightly, fear coursing through her veins though she knew he could not hurt her here, not in front of Bishop and the crowded palace.

  Yet her heart pounded painfully against her rib cage, and she felt Bishop stiffen beside her as Luna took a step to one side, his hand sliding beneath the edge of his black coat as if to draw a weapon. Ginny had the wild thought that Luna meant to force her to go with him after all, that she would not escape him…

  “No!” she hissed between her teeth, and felt rather than saw Bishop’s swift glance at her. “I will not allow him to take me again!”

  The walls seemed to shrink around her and the world closed in. The cacophony of noise escalated and receded in a blur of indecipherable noise and words so that she was only vaguely aware of Bishop reaching out for her, of his restraining hand on her arm. She shook it off, the urge to flee so strong and intense that she felt like a wild animal backed into a cage. Ginny moved swiftly to one side.

  “Señora Alvarado,” Bishop said in a warning tone, and she gave him a blindly panicked glance. His eyes were colorless, his tone unruffled, but the warning punctured her brief panic and she paused.

  And then, somehow, she knew. Steve Morgan was there in the president’s palace.

  31

  It was, Steve thought with a trace of irony, a reminder of all the other times he’d found his wife on the arm of another man. But that she was here tonight with Rafael Luna was infuriating—and dangerous. Damn Ginny!

  When he arrived, he had seen them across the room, a group of men leering at Ginny while Luna caressed her. She had not seemed to mind, but stood docilely under his touch as if slightly bored, like a jaded Jezebel. It should have reassured him, but somehow it hadn’t. Like a cat, she always seemed to land on her feet. Didn’t he know that?

  He had gone through three horses to get from the mine to Mexico City, riding as fast as he could, certain Ginny was in danger. Now he found her at a dress ball for the new president, wearing a smile and drinking champagne. He had thought…Ah, hell, it didn’t matter what he’d thought.

  He was here, and Luna was here, and there was other business to settle now that he knew Ginny was safe. The Spaniard was staring at him with satisfaction gleaming in his black eyes, a faint, smug smile touching the corners of his mouth. Steve didn’t even glance at Ginny.

  “You’re just where I thought you’d be, General Luna. Still stirring up trouble, or did you come to Mexico to line your own pockets?”

  Bishop didn’t move from Ginny’s side, but murmured that it was not the time or place to settle old scores. Steve ignored him.

  Rafael Luna merely smiled coldly, regarding him with a triumphant smirk. “You remember me now, I see.”

  “I remember you well enough. It’s been a long time since Milan, when I had to remove you forcibly from Francesca’s dressing room.”

  A small space had cleared out between them, men and women scattering as the two faced each other. Tension vibrated in the air. Rafael Luna’s eyes had narrowed, and his mouth twisted into a smile that was more of a snarl.

  “It was not your place to remove me from her dressing room or anywhere else. You took advantage of my inattention at the moment.”

  Steve allowed a slow smile to touch the corners of his mouth. “You were cowardly enough to run, as I remember it.”

  Luna went rigid; his arms fell to his sides, hands curling and uncurling, fingers flexing as if he held a weapon, but he only bowed slightly from the waist.

  “As crude as usual, I see. I demand satisfaction for
your insult.”

  “Name the time and place.”

  “Tonight!” Luna fixed him with a fierce stare, and a strange light glittered in his eyes. “So that your lovely wife will be a widow. Not that it matters so much to her, I believe, as she has spent some time in my company of late. A most lovely and compliant companion.”

  Slow rage gathered at the back of his throat and behind his eyes, but Steve allowed nothing to show in his face or in his tone. His brown face was as impassive as an Indian’s, but his cold implacable stare conveyed a ferocity and danger that penetrated even to Rafael Luna, who betrayed himself with a swift, faint flicker of uncertainty shadowing his eyes. It was the first sign of weakness, a chink in the armor Luna had erected.

  “You know why I’ve come, Luna. And it has nothing to do with my wife.”

  How many times had he faced a man intent upon killing him? Across a dusty street or a marble floor, it was always the same. The man who allowed emotion to weaken his reflexes ended up making new dust. Not even the sight of Ginny—with her green eyes all wide and glazed, her breasts almost bare in that damned gown and her lips wet and parted—not even that would distract him.

  “What is this in my palace?” The commanding voice cut through the crowd as if a hot knife through butter, parting them to make a path as Presidente Porfirio Díaz strode to the two men. “A quarrel? Between my Spanish envoy and my so excellent ambassador? This will not do, gentlemen, for we must not start my term off with violence. It has been too long since we have had peace in Mexico, and there should be peace now.”

  A murmur ran through the crowd, approving but with an undercurrent of excitement and disappointment that the show had been momentarily quelled. Still wary, his muscles tense with the need for violence, for vengeance against the man who had sent him once more to the hell of the mines while he toyed with his wife, Steve managed a courteous nod.

  “It will be as you wish it, of course, Your Excellency.”

  Díaz smiled. “We have been comrades in arms for far too long for me to believe that you will submit so meekly, Esteban, but I will accept your promise that you will not fight with General Luna here or today, eh? Now come, where is your beautiful wife? She has not come to see me as she promised me she would. I hope that she is feeling much better now that her illness has passed. Is she here with you?”

  Steve’s jaw set. Ginny, trembling visibly, gave him a beseeching glance as she stepped forward when he didn’t reply to the president’s query.

  “I—I am here, Your Excellency. Many pardons for my absence of late. As you mentioned I have been—indisposed.”

  “Of course, of course. Now that you are once more well and we are all in a better mood, we shall celebrate! General Luna, do not be so distant. Come. Tell me news of Spain.”

  Though he seemed congenial enough, there was a steely undercurrent to his tone that left no room for dissent. Luna bent an ironic bow in Steve’s direction, swept Ginny with a glance and accompanied Díaz as he moved away.

  Ginny. She didn’t move but stood there watching him, slanted green eyes slightly wary. The seductive gown clung to her body, skirts parting with her movements to give a glimpse of her legs. It was a cortesana’s gown.

  The tension that had gripped Steve for the past hundred miles was slow to ease. His muscles were taut, his nerves and temper on edge. Ginny was alive, unharmed, staring at him with brimming eyes, but all he could think at the moment was that he was too tired to give her the explanations that she deserved. Not now. There would be time enough later.

  With only a slight bow from the waist, he gave his wife a parting smile, pivoted on his heel and left the palace. Bishop could explain it all to her. It was his game. Let him field her questions for a change.

  I need a bath and a drink, not necessarily in that order, Steve thought grimly, and was quickly lost in the crowd filling the plaza.

  32

  Lanterns bobbed erratic light over the streets of Mexico City. Ginny stared blindly out the carriage windows, not seeing them as she was escorted home.

  Steve…oh, God! Had that been contempt in his eyes? His deliberate dismissal of her was as scorching as the flush that heated her face when he’d raked his gaze over her with studied precision. He could at least have stayed long enough to hear her explanation! Damn him…and damn Rafael Luna!

  By the time the carriage rolled to a halt before the shallow steps of the rented house, she had made up her mind what she would do next. Her escort, Butch Casey, was as taciturn as he had been the first time she’d met him, and coolly polite as he handed her from the carriage.

  “You will remain as a guard, as Mr. Bishop asked?” She was loath to go inside, the memories of the past brutal hours still sharp and painful. She caught and held Casey’s gaze. “If—I want to be certain that I am not bothered by anyone.”

  “I have my orders, ma’am, and you won’t be bothered by anyone you don’t want to bother you.”

  Was that a trace of contempt in his voice? But of course, it was ridiculous to expect respect when she was wearing a gown that left her almost naked. Casey’s cool blue eyes reminded her somehow of Steve, perhaps because there had been the same icy regard in his gaze.

  Oh God, he hates me. It’s all for nothing now, the closeness we shared…but at least I’m free of Rafael Luna! Steve will listen. I’ll explain it all to him tomorrow.

  Carmen met her on the landing, fussing over her with soothing hands, her chatter a steady stream that required no thought and no reply.

  “Ah, señora! I have been so worried…. That horrid man, he sent Artur away and I was so worried about you. I do not like that arrogant Spaniard. But you are well, and I am so relieved. Here, I will untie your laces for you, though they are already loose enough. And this gown—it is lovely, but so thin, so daring…”

  Ginny sank down into the high-backed copper tub, the water fragrant with oil of roses and a hint of musk, the scent filling her nose, the steamy waves of heat curling around her in a comforting shroud. A fat sponge floated in the water, and she scrubbed herself with it, raking it over her arms, legs, breasts and belly as if trying to scrape away the residue of the past hours, rubbing until her skin was bright pink and almost raw.

  “More hot water, Carmen,” she demanded when it grew cool, suddenly seized with the urgent need to wash away all traces of Rafael Luna, of her humiliation and anguish. She washed until Carmen protested that she could not bring any more hot water up the narrow stairs for her bath.

  “There is no more water in the cistern, señora, and no doubt in the entire city after tonight!”

  Worry creased the maid’s face, and she stood wringing her hands, anxious that her señora was so perturbed.

  “It’s hot enough, Carmen, gracias. Lay out my dressing gown, and I will get out of the tub in a moment.”

  Ginny closed her eyes and lay her head back against the edge of the tub, her skin tingling all over from the harsh abrasion of the sponge. Why did things always go awry? Was she ever to know peace? Ever to feel safe?

  And Steve—Oh, I wish he had killed Rafael Luna! A feeling of nausea washed over her, tinged with regret, with a suddenly fierce yearning to find Steve and tell him that she loved him, that it had not been what he might think.

  Why did I just stand there and let him walk away? Why didn’t I follow him, make him listen to me? Just once I would like for him to believe in me without having to defend myself!

  Damn him. It wasn’t as if he were so very innocent, after all, was it? No, there was Francesca, the woman whom Luna loved so much he was willing to destroy the wife of the man who had taken her from him—and there was Elizabeth Cady.

  Elizabeth Cady…

  What did she look like? Did she still love Steve? Had he left her behind as he had so many others, without a promise, only a careless farewell, or perhaps the gift of a dress or some trinket…?

  Anger began to replace the heartache, a slow fire igniting, the embers fanned to a steady flame.

  I
might as well know everything about him.

  Why should she not? He knew everything about her—and what he didn’t know, he could certainly guess. God, the look in his eyes when he saw me standing there, that horrible Luna with his hands on me like that. What does he think of me now!

  Ginny allowed Carmen to towel dry her hair, then brush it until it glowed with burnished light in the soft gloom of the wall lamps. Seated at the small marble-and-ivory inlaid dressing table, Ginny sipped from the cup of cocoa the maid had brewed for her, finally relaxing under Carmen’s anxious ministrations.

  “You must sleep well tonight, señora, for if you do not, you may become ill again. I will keep watch over you, and that so fierce hombre at the door, he will guard your rest. I have changed the sheets on your bed. No one will disturb you.”

  “I will not sleep in that bed,” she said abruptly. The thought of it made her ill, reminded her too vividly of Rafael Luna. She met Carmen’s startled gaze in the mirror. “I would like to sleep on the settee in here. It’s quite comfortable.”

  “Sí,” Carmen murmured, but it was plain that she was bewildered. Still, she dutifully tucked sheets that smelled of lavender atop the cushions of the settee, along with a plump pillow and a light coverlet.

  With the drapes drawn and windows closed against the muted sound of revelry in the streets, Ginny stretched out on the comfortable cushions.

  It was, she thought as a luxurious languor began to seep through her body, a relief to feel safe again, if only for a single night.

  33

  It was nearly dawn. Pale light streaked the eastern sky, tingeing mountain peaks a hazy gold. Steve sat in a cantina near the plaza. He’d been there most of the night, nursing a drink.

  Paco found him still sober, his mood foul.

  “You are about to be even more unhappy, amigo, when I tell you what has happened to your wife.” Paco didn’t bother to sit down, but stood watching Steve closely. It was no surprise, the way things stood between Steve and Ginny, but he had learned to be wary and not to get involved. It was much safer that way, for him, at least. ¡Dios! but matters got complicated quickly, and it always seemed that he was the one to have to tell Steve…