Before he could do anything further, the door to the bedroom opened and someone from the group crowding into the room shouted too loudly for his head, “Senor Alejandro! Madre di Dios! It’s you! You’re alive and well and back where you belong, in your wife’s bed.”
Chapter Five
An odd sense of relief filled him. He had a name. Alejandro. He wished he could say it sounded familiar but it didn’t. Still, it was a start. He had not caught the rest of what had been said in a rush of voices that drowned each other out. He only knew that he recognized the language spoken by those clamoring at his bedroom door, at least in part. And the “wife” part had certainly gotten his attention.
Determined to get a better look at his surroundings, Alejandro momentarily forgot the pains of his sore body and levered himself up to see the source of the commotion. He winced as his body reminded him of the effort such a movement took. The woman beside him stirred, dislodged from the hollow of his shoulder. Reflexively, Alejandro twitched a blanket over her for modesty. But it hardly mattered. The doorway was crowded with onlookers and they’d seen enough to know both of the room’s occupants were stark naked.
The woman was fully awake now, sitting up and hugging a blanket to her, speaking to the group in a rapid torrent of Spanish he couldn’t completely follow in spite of his easy recognition. With a broad grin, a woman ushered them from the door, shutting it firmly behind her.
Alejandro fell back against the pillows, partly in relief and partly out of his own exhaustion. The woman climbed out of bed and began dressing, not at all self-conscious about the fact that he was watching her. How could he not? She was exquisitely made. Should he know her? Such a display of intimacy suggested he should as did the gleeful yelling at the door. But his mind registered nothing in the way of recognition. Perhaps he’d misunderstood the shouts.
She said nothing as she dressed. Alejandro was happy enough to watch his angel in silence, appreciating the curves of her hips, the fullness of her breasts. She had a seductive lushness about her that suggested she had come into the prime of her mature beauty. The innocence of a young girl had given way to the earthy beauty of a woman who knew her worth.
She finished dressing and turned back to the bed, smoothing the blankets to make a space to sit on the edge. She smiled, reaching up to twist her long hair into a simple bun. The movement pronounced her breasts although Alejandro did not think the action was intentional.
She smiled. “You are alive. That is good. We did not think you would make it last night.”
“We? Who is ‘we’? Where exactly am I? How did I get here?” Questions rolled hoarsely off his tongue in English. The roughness of his voice horrified him. Then he realized he’d understood one language and spoken another in the span of five minutes. Which one was native to him?
His angel reached for his hand in a gesture of comfort. He found her touch soothing to his alarmed nerves. “Do you remember nothing about last night?” Her dark eyes searched his face.
Alejandro felt helpless, completely unmanned by his inability to recall the events that led to his current circumstances. “No, I don’t.” He paused. “I didn’t even remember my name. I would not know it now if it hadn’t been for the people in the doorway shouting it.” He admitted the last part begrudgingly, aware of the panic rising in his hoarse voice.
Her thumb traced a line over and over across the back of his hand. Her face took on a look of contemplation at his news. She was silent for a bit, apparently considering the import of what he’d shared. At last she spoke. “You suffered a great tragedy last night,” she said slowly, weighing each word. “The ship you were on went down not far from the coast and you washed up on shore fairly quickly. I can only surmise that you abandoned the ship under your own power and deliberately struck out for the beach before your strength gave out or before you risked an injury from staying on the ship too long.”
Alejandro closed his eyes in dismay. Her description triggered nothing. Such an event should have been dominant in his mind. Who wouldn’t remember such an ordeal?
She stood up. He felt her weight leave the bed. “Don’t worry. It will come back.” She reassured him, apparently reading his mind, what there was of it. “Rest, I’ll fetch you some hot food and we can talk some more.”
He let his lovely rescuer get to the door before he asked one more question. “What did those people this morning say? They seemed very glad to see me although I didn’t recognize them.”
Elena gave him a coy smile and a delightful laugh. “They said it was good to see you back in your wife’s bed.”
Chapter Six
Elena shut the door swiftly behind her to forestall the flood of questions that statement would bring. She had heard the servants’ comments and now she hurried to the kitchens to discover their source.
She could hear the kitchen noise before she entered it but everyone fell silent upon her arrival. Elena placed her hands on her hips and fixed everyone with a firm stare. “Who spread the news that the man upstairs is Alejandro?”
She already had a fair idea who it was. Only two women had been with her last night and would have had a long time to study the man they’d dragged from the sea. Only one of them had the nerve to take such a drastic step with such claims.
Anna stepped forward, wiping her floury hands on an apron. “I did, Senora. Such good news is meant to be shared. We’ve all been praying for it."
Elena nodded. “I thank everyone for their efforts,” she said carefully. She was not yet ready to share the truth—that would limit her options before she knew what they were. Best to play it neutral. “There is much to be done today. The fields won’t wait. Let’s be about our business as if this were an ordinary day.”
General relief swept the group and workers soon deserted the kitchen for their various jobs. Elena was left with Anna, who had turned her attention back to the daily task of baking bread.
“He’s not Alejandro,” Elena said quietly, tying on an apron and grabbing a chunk of unbaked dough to knead.
Anna shrugged. “He could be. You need him to be.”
“He used an English word with me last night after everyone left and when he spoke to me this morning, he had an English accent,” Elena said, surprisingly deflated by this obvious flaw in the plan.
Anna gave a negligent shrug. “Alejandro has been gone for nearly a year. Who’s to say he hasn’t spent that year in Britain or among Englishmen? It’s not uncommon for our sailors to pick up strange ways in different ports. It’s happened before.”
Elena punched the dough. “What you’re suggesting is impersonation. It’s fraud. It’s illegal to say nothing of immoral.”
“Those are such big words for an uneducated woman like me or for any of us living here in this tiny village by the sea, Senora. I don’t see how a little mistake could be something as evil as a crime.”
Elena snorted. Anna might not lay claim to traditional education but she was quite smart in the ways of people. Elena knew precisely what the woman was suggesting. If they were caught in their deception to pass the stranger off as Alejandro, how could anyone prove the act had been pre-meditated? And really, who would care enough to question it in the first place when so many wanted to believe it? They were a small village on the coast of Galicia. They lived a remote and isolated life. The nearest town of significant size, Santiago de Compostela, was three days away.
But Elena knew one person who would definitely be suspicious. “Senor Alicante would question it. It’s too convenient that my husband would return in the nick of time,” she said.
Anna shoved the bread into the massive brick oven. “If he’s the only one smelling a rat, he won’t get very far.” She turned back to Elena. “No one wants to see Senor Alicante get his hands on this property or on you. But there’s nothing to stop him except the return of your husband. You’ve got four weeks left and you’re out of time. Now this man who could pass for Alejandro appears. Seems like a miracle to me. All you have to do is p
ut it to him in just the right way.”
Elena’s hands stopped their kneading. “That won’t be difficult. He doesn’t remember anything.” She said the last in hushed tones—the temptation of Anna’s suggestion already niggling at her, eating away at the ethical barriers that said she should not even consider the outrageous plan.
“Ah.” Anna’s eyes gleamed. “It seems as if the angels have intervened on your behalf, Senora. One does not get a clearer sign than that.”
Elena drew a deep breath. “What if his memory returns?”
“You saved his life,” Anna said easily. “He owes you. Besides, even if his memory does return, I can’t imagine he’d mind too much. I got an eyeful of that cockstand he was sporting beneath the sheets this morning. You can seduce him if you have to.” Anna winked.
“We don’t know who he is. What if he’s someone important and someone comes looking for him?” Other thoughts ran unspoken through her head. What if he had a wife somewhere else? Children? How many sins would she be committing if she seduced him into her plot? What if he turned out to be a criminal?
“You will have to decide soon, Senora,” Anna humphed, bustling to another task. “Word will reach the village soon enough and Don Alicante has ears everywhere.”
Elena nodded silently and began preparing a tray of broth, tea and bread. “I’ll think about it.” But she knew Anna was right. She had very little time to think. Word would leak out—it always did in a small village where any variation in the day was looked upon with excitement and speculation. By supper tonight, everyone would know Alejandro di Duero had been cast up by the sea and spent his first night home in bed with his wife. In the taverna, his old friends may even talk about the explicit details of the morning, how Elena and Alejandro had both been naked and tangled in the sheets. As in the past, they would think nothing of sparing Elena’s modesty with their ribald comments.
Elena picked up the tray and started the trip back upstairs. In some ways the decision had already been made for her. There would be a scandal later if her duplicity was discovered. But in truth, there would be a scandal now if she denounced the man. How could she explain her naked presence in a man’s bed who wasn’t her husband? All of her household had seen them.
The idea of saying ‘I threw off all my clothes because I thought it could save his life’ sounded ridiculous even to her, despite the fact that it had worked. Such a scandal would not help her keep her lands when Senor Alicante pressed his suit.
In fact, the scandal would destroy her entirely and Senor Alicante would not hesitate to brand her as a loose woman. She could just hear his accusations: how could such a woman who was irresponsible with her affections be trusted with the responsibility of a pazo the size and merit of the Duero holding? Elena knew already how such a case would play out. In this rugged coastal land, women were necessary but secondary citizens.
By the time Elena reached the top of the stairs, she knew what she had to do. There had never truly been a choice. Anna’s plan was audacious but the woman’s quick thinking had no doubt saved Elena from ruinous gossip. Elena didn’t like that events had been set in motion without her approval or control but there was nothing to be done now, nothing except opening the bedroom door and seducing the man beyond it into compliance.
Chapter Seven
Elena pushed the door open with her hip, balancing the tray carefully. She’d been prepared to keep up a stream of chatter but all thought of easy small talk faded at the sight that greeted her.
The man had gotten out of bed. He stood at the window, his back to her, bare and magnificently muscled. He’d wrapped a sheet around his waist and his dark hair hung to his shoulders. He looked strong and uncontrollable. “I’ve brought you some hot broth. It will feel good to your throat,” she managed to say, finding herself somewhat dumbstruck by his physical beauty. But Alejandro had been a handsome man, too, and in the end, it had accounted for nothing. She must exercise caution.
He turned at the sound of her voice. “Here, let me take that. The tray looks heavy.” He was a gentleman in spite of whatever aches and sore muscles she knew he must possess after last night. He deftly relieved her of the tray and set it on a small table in the room. “Will you sit with me while I eat?” he asked.
Elena smiled and sat down, wondering how to begin her deception. She needn’t have worried. He picked their conversation up right where she’d left it.
“So, my name is Alejandro. We are married? This is my home?” he asked.
Elena hesitated only a fraction before she gave the nod that would commit her fully to the deception and to this nameless man. “Yes, you are my husband, Alejandro di Duero, and I am your wife, Elena. I had given up hope of ever finding you alive again.” And if it hadn’t been for Don Alicante’s awful ultimatum, I’d have done my mourning and moved on with no desire to look back.
His dark brows furrowed. “Why is that?”
“Last year, you left on a ship to see about a cargo of Madeira but your ship went down in a storm off our coast, not unlike last night. The ship was destroyed before it could make it home. No survivors were found. Many bodies washed up on shore but not yours.” Elena cast her eyes down, though the story was true. Alejandro’s body hadn’t been found. And as a man of means, he would have come home to his wealthy pazo if he was still alive. “The villagers will think your return nothing short of a divine miracle.”
Alejandro huffed at that. “They’ll want to know why it took me so long. A man does not willingly forsake a beautiful wife without a word to anyone.” He reached for her hand across the table, startling her with the gesture. Elena scolded herself. She had to remember she had a part to play too. A wife would not jump at such a gesture.
“Do you love me, Elena?”
“I have waited all year in hopes of your return.” Again, it was the truth—his return was the only way she had to stop Don Alicante. Life with Alejandro’s indifference could be borne. She’d already proved that. She doubted she could say the same for a life lived under Don Alicante’s harsh rule.
He was studying her with intense gray eyes. Elena swallowed hard, her fears and something else—something warm and exciting, welling up inside her.
“That proves you’re dutiful. Do you love me?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. The morning, with all its light, had never seemed as intimate to her as it did now.
“Why do you ask?” Elena parried.
“I think we are perhaps estranged, that maybe things were not as right between us as they should have been when I left. There are no signs of my clothing or personal effects in your room. With the exception of last night, I don’t think we shared a chamber.”
“You have your own chamber. I can show you.” Elena tried to rise, glad for something to do. When he didn’t release her hand, she was forced to sit back down.
“I can see it later. I am more concerned with my relationship with my wife at the present.” He caressed her hand, his gaze intent on her fingers. “She jumps at my merest touch. I regret that I don’t recall you or the state of our marriage. If I did, I would know what amends I need to make. For I am certain I would not have had a marriage that involved separate beds or any kind of hesitation between husband and wife.”
In that moment, she was sure of it too. The hard set of jaw, the unbridled power of his physique shouted that this was not a man who failed at anything he did.
Alejandro stood up and Elena rose with him, conscious of the presence of his hand in hers. He moved around the little table and drew her to him, his eyes glistening with a wolfish, feral danger that made Elena’s pulse race in anticipation. Anticipation of what? With sudden realization, she knew. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to do more than kiss her.
Her eyes must have betrayed her desires. A triumphant smile flicked across his lips before his mouth captured hers. He held her full against him with one hand at the back of her head, guiding and caressing, until she was overwhelmed with the sensation of a kiss that wa
s both gentle and primal in its message. She could feel the power of his erection through the thin sheet.
He was hungry for her. His other hand found one of her breasts. He slid his open palm over her nipple where it rested beneath the fabric of her blouse. Elena heard herself moan at the exquisite friction his touch and the fabric created. She wanted to be naked with him, wanted to make love with him in a way entirely foreign to the relationship she’d had with Alejandro.
He felt it too and he pulled back, desire plainly evident in his eyes. “It may be that I did not leave you on the best of terms, but clearly, it was not always that way between us. Tonight, I will come to you and we will begin to make our marriage whole again. I want everyone to know that Alejandro di Duero is home and he claims his wife fully.”
Chapter Eight
He’d unnerved her. There was no doubting it, Alejandro mused hours later, sitting in the chambers that apparently belonged to him.
Looking over his personal things had not helped him recall anything specific. But it had helped him understand and re-learn certain things about himself.
His affects supported the idea that he was a man of comfortable wealth, at least by rural standards. There were several outfits of clothing in the large, carved wardrobe that stood in a corner of the chamber. Among his practical clothes designed for riding and everyday wear were a couple of fine suits for more formal events. He must have need of them on occasion.
Grayson Prentiss's Seduction Page 2
