Love and Honor: The Coltrane Saga, Book 7

by Patricia Hagan

  “Are you going to sell him?”

  “No. I’m taking him with me.”

  Kitty gasped. “You’re taking that horse all the way to America? Why, when you—” She caught herself. Kit looked at her in horror—Kitty had almost given away their plans to return to Spain!

  “If you don’t get the hell out of my way, I’m going to scream!” Kit warned Kurt through clenched teeth.

  He stepped aside, his face a mask of barely contained rage.

  Kit swept by him without another glance. Once they rounded the corner Kitty demanded, “Will you please tell me what that was all about?”

  Kit was walking fast, trying to escape not only him, but her own turbulent emotions. “The bullfight. I did it to win Pegasus from him. He’s so conceited and arrogant he just can’t accept the fact that a woman bested him.”

  Kitty laughed. “Oh, child, he doesn’t care about that horse.”

  Kit slowed, not sure she’d heard correctly. “What did you say?”

  “I said he doesn’t care about that horse. It’s you he wants.”

  “That’s absurd,” Kit scoffed. “Kurt Tanner doesn’t care about anybody but himself.”

  Kitty could well remember the time when she felt only contempt for Travis. If anyone back then had told her she was falling in love with him, she’d have said he was crazy.

  So she kept silent and did not say what was on her mind, or in her heart.

  She did not tell Kit just how much Kurt Tanner reminded her of Travis Coltrane.

  Neither Kit nor Kitty was aware that when they turned the corner and disappeared from his sight, Kurt had crossed the street and gone into the tax collector’s office.

  By the time they reached the spot where Muego waited with the family car, he had come out of the office.

  And everyone who saw him stepped out of his way, for the furious look on his face said he was a man not to be crossed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next two weeks passed in a flurry of activity as the Coltranes prepared for their return to America. While Kit pretended to help with the move, she slipped away every chance she could, making her own arrangements for her return.

  Since she didn’t know just when she’d be coming back, she’d asked Riguero to secretly look after her ranch. It made her feel easier to know that he would be protecting her interests for the next few months, and surely it would be no longer than that before she could get on with her life—the way she wanted to live.

  Kit did not like being so deceitful, but she knew it was necessary. She’d felt real guilt at her father’s delight when she asked to take Pegasus with her to New York. He’d viewed it as a sign she’d given up her idea of returning to Spain. But she certainly could not confide that she was afraid Kurt Tanner would steal the prize Hispano when he found out she had bought the land he wanted.

  A lavish dinner party was being held their last night in Spain, at the home of Señor Ortega Monolete, a very rich and important diplomat. Kit looked forward to the evening, for she had many friends in Valencia. In a festive mood, she selected a stunning gown of emerald velvet. Carasia piled her shimmering golden hair atop her head and fastened a necklace of pearls and sapphires around her neck.

  As she descended the staircase, Jade exclaimed proudly, “Oh, Kit darling, you’re so pretty. You should be the titled princess in this family!”

  Colt stepped from his study to greet her, having just arrived from Madrid. “She is a princess”—he grinned at Jade—“whether the Czar officially titled her or not. She’s the image of you—”

  “No!” Jade said sharply. Her husband and daughter looked questioningly. She continued quickly, trying to cover her unusual response. “She…she’s never looked like me, darling. We’ve always said she looks like Kitty, your side of the family…not mine at all.”

  “Your mother!” Colt said to Kit in mock exasperation. “Always afraid that someone will think you take after her and not me. Why, I don’t know—she’s beautiful, and so are you.”

  Jade turned away, lest her anxiety show on her face. As much as she wanted to return to New York, ever since the decision had been made the old fears had been creeping back to haunt her…fears she’d vowed, on the day her children were born, never to think about again. That was why it was so important that Kit and Travis resemble the Coltrane family, and never doubt who their father was.

  Before leaving for the Monolete castle, Colt opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate their last night in Spain. By the time they arrived at the party, Kit was as bubbly as the wine.

  “I didn’t know there would be so many people here,” Jade remarked as they stepped into the massive marble entrance hall. They could see into the large ballroom beyond, packed with gaily dressed guests. A small orchestra provided soft music that rose above the laughter and conversation.

  Colt was beaming. “Señor and Señora Monolete have really outdone themselves. I’m very touched by all this.”

  Kit saw the way her parents looked at each other. This was their night, an evening they would always remember.

  Señor Monolete and his wife greeted them warmly. For the next hour, Kit stood with her parents, exchanging pleasantries with old acquaintances. Then she closed her eyes and groaned softly as she recognized Esteban Yubero. For one hysterical instant, she thought of trying to escape—but it was too late. His hand, warm and clammy, was holding hers, and decorum decreed that she look up into his shining black eyes and force herself to smile. “Ah, señorita, I am a man of mixed emotions this night.”

  Kit braced herself, wondering irritably why such an attractive man would make himself so obnoxious.

  “I have not been able to get you out of my mind, and I have counted the minutes until we could be together again, but—” He closed his eyes dramatically, cocking his head to one side and gazing at her with longing. He whispered, “You are leaving Spain and leaving Esteban, and my heart now bleeds.”

  “How sweet of you, Esteban,” Jade said approvingly.

  She did not see Kit’s annoyed expression as they all proceeded into the dining room. Kit and her parents sat at the table of honor. She tried to escape Esteban, but he made a special plea to Señora Monolete, and Kit was horrified to find him seated next to her. Oh, how could he be so bold, she fumed inwardly.

  What had started out to be a wonderful evening had suddenly turned into an ordeal, and she just wished it was over.

  Waiters began serving the food—faisan, perdiz and cordonices—pheasant, partridge, and quail; champinones at ajillo and alcachofas con jamon—mushrooms sauteed in garlic and artichokes cooked with ham. For dessert there were sweet baked orange slices, drizzled with flan—a crème caramel sauce.

  Normally Kit would have enjoyed every bite, but tonight she might as well have been eating sawdust. All she was aware of was the way Esteban kept rubbing his leg against her knee. She desperately wanted dinner to end, because she wasn’t sure what she would do if he dared put his hand on her leg as he had at his parents’ home in Madrid. She refused to look at him, at his hungry, lust-filled eyes. The only thing that helped ease her wretchedness was the delicious wine.

  When dinner finally ended, Señor Monolete announced there would be dancing in the main ballroom, and then flamenco dancers would perform.

  As everyone began to make his way from the dining room, Esteban caught her arm, his breath hot against her ear. “I want so much to dance with you, to feel you in my arms…”

  His words were slurred. Kit decided that what they both needed was some fresh air. She nodded, toward the door and suggested they take a little walk before the evening’s entertainment began. Esteban grinned, trembling with excitement that she wanted to be alone with him. He’d find out otherwise soon enough, Kit thought dryly.

  As they walked, he bragged, “I know this castle well. Once upon a time I courted Señor Monolete’s daughter, Lanida, but she was not so pretty. I adore pretty women—like you, Kit…”

  He tried to put his arm arou
nd her and pull her close, but she jerked away. “I didn’t ask you to go for a walk to have you pawing me, Esteban. We’ve both had too much to drink, and we need some air.”

  He laughed as if she were joking, but made no move to touch her again. They had reached a side door when he suddenly caught her and shoved her roughly to the other side of the hall, where a heavy wooden door was bolted. Kit had played in the castle with Lanida when they were children, and remembered that there were stairs to ancient dungeons—no place for them to be.

  “What are you doing?” she cried, struggling. He held her with one hand, fumbled with the bolt with the other. “Esteban, let me go!”

  The bolt slid back, and he opened the door and shoved her inside. Kit tried to scream for help, but he covered her mouth with his hand, pushing her into the dark shadows. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’d never hurt you, Kit, but I can’t have you screaming, giving people the wrong impression. We’re on a landing, above the steps going down to the dungeon. We’re quite safe, and we’re alone, so I can tell you how much I adore you…and want you…and how much I want to love you…really love you.”

  Kit realized that struggling was useless. He was easily pressing her against the cold stone wall, pinning her arms behind her back and silencing her cry of protest with a nauseating kiss.

  Kit brought her leg up to knee him, but he leaped back, avoiding the full brunt of the blow. Still, she hurt him, and he stumbled backward, releasing her as he grabbed the splintery wooden railing. Holding on to support himself, he gasped, “Why…why did you do that? I only want to love you—”

  “You only want to maul me, you slimy little toad!” Kit cried, pushing by him furiously. She shoved open the heavy door and stumbled out.

  The hall was empty, and Kit imagined she could hear the echo of her own heavy breathing. Behind her, from the other side of the door, she could hear Esteban trying to get out. Without a moment’s hesitation she slid the bolt into place. He yelled in frightened protest, but she ignored him. He deserved to be shut away with the other rodents, she thought as she walked quickly away.

  As she approached the main part of the castle, she could hear the clicking of castanets as the dancers performed a furious fandango. Kit suddenly decided that she no longer wanted to be there. Sooner or later a servant would hear Esteban yelling, and she just didn’t want to be around when he got out. Instead of joining the merriment, she went out a side door and skirted around to the front of the castle, where Muego waited with the family car.

  He was surprised to see her so early, but she offered no explanation. “Take me home, please, and then come back for my parents.” She instructed him to tell no one about her early departure until her parents asked, then to say she’d had a sudden headache.

  Carasia had left a few lamps on, and the soft light created an eerie effect. Walking around the white-draped furniture was like passing tombstones in a cemetery. The only sound was the rain that had begun softly falling. By the time Kit went to her room and changed from her ball gown to her nightgown, the wind had picked up, angrily rattling the windows and patio doors.

  It was a nostalgic time, Kit reflected, not at all sleepy. This was her last night in the only home she had ever known. The future was exciting, but why did she feel a strange, churning hunger within, like the nagging need for answers to unknown questions? Why was she so restless? It was not because Esteban had made her angry, and she certainly wasn’t worried about repercussions for locking him in the wine cellar. She doubted he’d even admit she was responsible. Nor was she upset about leaving Spain since she’d soon be coming back. No, there was something else bothering her, and Kit knew she’d find no peace until she determined what it was.

  Kit jumped as lightning split the sky with forked fingers. Thunder exploded, shaking the floor beneath her. The wind screamed ominously and rain splashed against the windowpanes. A violent storm was bearing down, and Kit thought of Pegasus, alone in the barn and probably terrified.

  She knew she would get no rest until she made sure that Pegasus wasn’t tearing down his stall in panic. What if he crashed into something and broke a leg? Snatching a poncho that had not yet been packed, she ran outside, momentarily blown backward by the gale-force wind. Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the way. Ducking her head against the storm, she charged into the night. It seemed that for every step forward she took, she was blown back two. The poncho whipped open, and she was immediately drenched, her robe and gown plastered to her skin. Shivering, she plunged onward, determined that no harm should come to her horse. The barn appeared as a vision in the distance, seen in flashes, only to be swallowed into darkness as the storm crashed around her. Kit finally reached the doors and struggled mightily to push them open. Then, stumbling in, she heard Pegasus snorting and stamping above the din. She fumbled for a lantern and matches, but they were missing. Moving by instinct she felt her way through the stable. She finally reached the stall. In a flash of lightning, she saw the rearing horse, his hooves wildly slashing the air. Unafraid, she called to him gently. He began to calm down, finally standing still and allowing her to rub his nose. She continued soothing him. “You’ll be all right, boy. Just calm down. Nothing to be afraid of. The storm is almost over—”

  “Is it?”

  Her fright changed to anger as another flash of lightning lit up the stable, revealing Kurt Tanner standing on the other side of Pegasus’s stall.

  “You!” she gasped. “What are you doing here?”

  “I asked you a question,” he said, his voice as ominous as the thunder. “Is the storm almost over? I don’t think so. Actually, I think it’s just beginning.”

  He stepped inside the stall. Instinctively Kit retreated, maneuvering so that Pegasus was between them. “I’d advise you to get out of here, Tanner. You’re trespassing. How dare you sneak up on me like this? Are you drunk? Get out!”

  He snorted. “Not till we talk, princesa. You are a little princess, aren’t you? Romanov blood!” he said mockingly. “I made some inquiries. You see, I like to know what kind of neighbors I’m going to have,” he added sharply.

  So he knew! Well, he was bound to find out sooner or later. Kit knew she had to get him to leave before her parents came home. “We have nothing to talk about. I had as much right to buy that ranch as you did!”

  Kurt emitted a bitter laugh. She could see the naked fury on his face and the narrow look in his dark eyes.

  “You took away my right when you hid that goddamn sign, you sneaky little vixen. I went by the office to find out when the land would be posted. That’s when I learned it already had been posted—and bought—by your grandmother, for you, of course. I rode out there and discovered the sign hidden in the bushes—where you put it the day the tax man was out there. He told me how he’d met you that day…said who could forget so beautiful a woman,” Kurt added with a sneer.

  Drawing in a ragged breath, he said, “It didn’t take much to figure out your scheme—pacifying your parents by making them think you’re seriously considering moving to America permanently. But don’t worry, I won’t give you away. I only came to let you know that you’re not as smart as you think you are, and I’m sick of your deceit. I’m going to enjoy watching you fall on your smug little face, because you’ll never make it as a rancher, baby. Sooner or later you’ll get what’s coming to you.”

  “Oh, really?” Kit stepped around Pegasus. She stared up at him undaunted, her hands on her hips. She was so angry she gave no thought to how she must look, her sheer nightgown wet and clinging to her body where the pncho did not cover.

  “Get one thing straight, Señor Tanner—Pegasus is mine, and I’m taking him with me so you can’t steal him. And another thing, you pompous ass. Why is it that when a man does something sharp and cunning it’s shrewd, but when a woman does, it’s treachery?”

  The storm had picked up in intensity, and was now directly overhead. Kurt stared down at Kit, her face shimmering in the glow of the lightning that streaked
the sky outside.

  His eyes raked over her, following the curve of her breasts beneath her damp gossamer gown. Without a word he stepped up to her and cupped her breasts. He pulled her close against him, and she could feel the sudden swell of his desire against her. It was as if he had hypnotized her with his steady, burning gaze. She could only stand there helpless, allowing delicious waves of passion to course through her body, shaking her as profoundly as the thunder that crashed around them.

  “It’s my turn to make a challenge, princesa,” he whispered huskily. “I defy you not to want me…”

  His lips covered hers possessively, urgently. She could taste the whiskey on his mouth, and her blood began to race with liquid desire. She was aware of a trembling deep within her and cursed herself for the wild longing that had taken over her senses. No longer did she have a will of her own. She was helpless before the intense yearning he had ignited.

  The kiss seemed to last forever, and she prayed it would never end as she reached up and put her hands around his neck.

  Then suddenly he released her. Taken by surprise, Kit stumbled backward. She was furious—with him, and with herself. She had realized in that moment why she had been so restless lately. Kurt Tanner was on her mind, in her blood, even though she despised him as she looked up into his triumphant face. Despite herself, she was drawn to him in a way she could neither explain nor deny.

  “This time, princesa,” he said smugly, “I win, and one day, I’ll claim the full prize. Have a nice trip.” He saluted her impudently, then turned on his heel, leaving her staring silently, furiously, after him.

  The cool rain beat down on his smiling face as Kurt headed into the storm. For once, he was glad his temper had gotten the best of him and kept him from telling her that President-elect Wilson had sent him a personal invitation to the inauguration. He’d be going to America too, as a successful and wealthy man. He’d thought maybe the vixen and he could have declared a truce, but he decided that it had all turned out for the best. He’d just show her a few tricks of his own—she certainly had it coming.