Although he didn't understand why this was so important to her, he nodded. "I believe you." Actually, he didn't believe her. Women cried. It was expected, natural. Why did she feel she must defend herself for something so normal?
She turned from the wall and sat on the end of the bed, leaning back into the corner to face Alex. Her knees were drawn up to hide her breasts, and Alex felt a pang of regret. "I never should have left Boston. Perhaps I should have even stayed in Constantinople. This is hardly better than anything I faced there."
"No, chica?"
Her gaze locked with his and she sighed. "I should see to your wounds." Her arms went over her breasts again as she stood and took the two steps which brought her alongside Alex. She sent him an imploring look and he closed his eyes.
"Ah, you are cruel, Glee Montrose, to deny me the small pleasure of looking at you when I am in so much pain already." He heaved a dramatic sigh, which ended in a low groan as his ribs expanded and contracted.
He felt the soft touch of a wet cloth against his bruised face. "She must be very worried about you, Mister Pacheco."
"Will you not call me Alex or Alejandro? And who must be worried?"
Her cloth moved to the corner of his mouth and sponged off blood there. "Your wife, Alex. Have you been gone a very long time?"
He frowned. "My wife is dead, Glee, so has gone beyond her worries of me."
The cloth stopped and Alex opened his eyes. Glee's turquoise eyes bored into his soul, too deep, and he shut his again. "I am very sorry, Alex." The cloth began again, traveling down his neck to bathe the sweat-matted curls on his chest.
Welsh returned and Alex's muscles tensed at the sound of his voice.
"There ain't enough water there for you to give him a real good bath, red, but my guess is he won't care none if'n you miss a few spots in favor of others. Know what I mean?" He laughed.
Glee's arms covered her chest again but she gestured with a toss of her head. "The manacles, Private Welsh, as we agreed."
"I'm goin'." He approached Alex and Glee moved away. "She always so bossy, Garcia?" he asked as he worked. Alex did not reply, but Welsh didn't seem to notice. "Can't say's I like it myself. Prefer a woman who takes orders, not gives 'em." He chuckled. "But mebbe she's a mite less pushy in bed. 'S 'at right? Anyway," he finished as he relocked the long chain from Alex's wrists to the ring on the wall; this time with his hands in front of his body. "She's got nice tits. Somethin' to be said for that." He stood and looked over his work. "All right, lady, the deal's done. You got two hours, no more." He moved to the cell door and paused as he locked them in. "And don't go getting too noisy, or I might hafta come and watch to make sure you ain't doin' nothin' illegal."
The man's squeaky laughter as he left made Alex's hands tighten into fists. The shooting pains which went from wrists to shoulders only made him more angry.
Glee's small hand on his fist brought him back from his black thoughts. "Is this better?" she asked.
"Si, querida, better." He was able to stand up now, and move to the six-foot length of his chain. His ribs ached and his shoulders throbbed, but it was not so bad as each minute passed. Glee stood nearby, watching him awaken his legs. She seemed ready to try to catch him if he weakened and her innocent smile of pleasure with his each step made him aroused again. An exquisite woman, she was. Standing before him, clad only in a lace-trimmed corset, white silk pantalets with pink ribbons to close the crotch, sheer white stockings, and white high-button shoes, she was the picture of innocent sensuality.
Alex walked to her and touched her face. "Gracias, niña, for all you have done. You keep me alive during this nightmare, and for this I am grateful."
She blushed and lowered her eyes from his, hugging her arms around her again.
"No, no, bella." He pried her arms away and held her hands by her sides. Allowing himself a long slow appraisal of her creamy skin, the narrowness of her waist, the length of her legs, he ended by gazing into her tilted eyes again. "You hide too much. Do not hide from me, Glee, not now, not when we are both so needy."
"I-I-"
"Shhh," he whispered as his broken lips touched her cheek. Her skin was like satin scented with spices, and he trailed kisses along her jaw to her chin. He felt her body stiffen though she was not pressed against him. When her mouth opened to protest, he took her lips with his own. Capturing them first, he waited for her to give a tiny bit before he began to move his mouth against hers. His patience was wearing thin when he felt some of the tension leave her fingers. "Bueno," he murmured against her mouth. His lips went on to suck her pout, tease each corner of her impudent smile, licking their perfect shape, before he slid his tongue into mouth. She groaned softly and accepted his deeper kiss, as he probed for the sweet flesh of her tongue. When at last he found it, he teased and coaxed until she began to play his game. Soon she fenced intimately with him, and his senses greedily took all she had to give.
As their mouths coupled with abandon, Alex felt Glee move toward him until her breasts pressed against his chest. Her nipples were hard, cold nubs flirting with his ribs, sending blood rushing downward toward his already throbbing hardness. He felt the rapid rise and fall of her breathing and knew she was also aroused by their kisses. Alex let go of her hands and slid his own up her corseted waist toward the full breasts that jutted against him. He felt Glee's arms wrap around him and the searing pain as she squeezed.
Immediately his mouth left hers, and he groaned and stiffened against the agony.
"Oh!" she cried. "Oh, no! Alex, I'm so sorry! I-I got carried away. I..." She led him to the cot and pushed his shoulders until he sat.
Alex was doing his damnedest not to breathe, but he saw the fear, the sincere regret in Glee's eyes and he reached for her hand, his chain clanking loudly. "It's all right," he said through gritted teeth. "Do not worry, querida, even now the pain lessens."
"I should never have let..." she began, only to leave off as she began to search for something. "I've got to bind those ribs. Stuff! They didn't even give you a blanket, those dog-hearted, pul pul, batârds! Scabrous bastards!"
She sat down next to him and began unbuttoning her shoes.
"Glee, what are you doing?"
"I'm going to use my stockings to bandage your ribs. They're long enough to go round, maybe twice, I hope. We haven't got anything else."
The white stockings got peeled off and she shook them until they were long, loose tubes. Alex couldn't help the burst of laughter that jolted his ribs again. The absurdity of using women's stockings to bind his ribs was just too much! If only his younger brother, Manuel, were here; he'd never live it down.
Her legs were long, shapely and smooth. Where was the soft down that should have covered her limbs? Alex felt her move closer to him, and she pressed the toe of one stocking to his right side. "Here, hold this," she ordered. He complied, and she wound the soft fabric nearly all the way around his mid-section, but not quite. "Merde!"
"Your legs are bare," he said.
She was knotting the two stockings together and answered distractedly. "Yes, of course. I've taken off my stockings, Alex."
"No, I mean they are smooth. Hairless. How is that?"
Her breasts brushed against his arm as she wound the silky bandage again. Alex thought he could feel the heat of her blush. Was it due to his question or their contact?
"I have it removed with wax. Something I was taught in Constantinople."
"Under your arms also?" he asked, though he could see the answer as she worked.
"Mmhmm," she murmured, as she tied off the make-shift bandage and sat on the end of the cot again with knees drawn up modestly.
"And-" Suddenly her cool fingers pressed against his mouth and she pinned him with a firm blue-green gaze.
"Don't ask. It's none of your business."
He nodded and she removed her hand. The unswollen right side of his mouth quirked up. "I was only going to ask if that's also where you learned to wear a turban. Why do you cover y
our glorious hair, Glee? Is it not an asset?"
Glee shook her head. "No, it's not. Believe me. It's gotten me into more difficult situations than I care to describe. I can't think of one reason why so many women want to have red hair."
Her bitterness intrigued him. "Not even to catch a husband? Is that not the goal of every woman?"
"Ha!" she snorted. "No more than it is the goal of every man to marry a woman. I am a bachelor, Alex, and content to remain that way."
"Don't you mean spinster?" he said with a half-grin.
"No. 'Spinster' has a negative connotation. I prefer to be a bachelor which is not a pejorative."
He chuckled, the pain less now that his ribs had some small support. "You will pardon me then if I don't mention to my family that I have kissed a bachelor, querida. I think they would not understand."
She smiled. "No, I don't suppose they would."
"Come and kiss me again, mi bachiller?"
Chapter 12
G lee cast a pained expression on Alex. "I don't think I should have kissed you once."
He moved to the limit of his chain and took her hand from her knee.
"My bachelor," he'd called her. As much as she had vowed to her cousin Raymond that she wouldn’t mind living that lonely life, she was beginning to wonder if she really could. Kissing Alex hadn’t been like anything she’d ever experienced before. It had made her belly flutter and a thick warm feeling begin to boil somewhat lower. Lord! Was this what Raymond meant when he suggested that there were some parts of marriage she would enjoy?
She stared at Alex’s dark brown hand, its knuckles bruised and scraped from his struggles, as it held hers. His fingers were so long, so large in comparison. Were they more gentle than their size would imply? His kisses were intoxicating; she couldn’t deny it. Would his touch be as well?
“You are so quiet, Glee. Come and kiss me again, sweetheart, before I begin to think you tire of me.”
Alex’s face was so battered. His left eye was nearly swollen shut, and the left side of his jaw was purple with bruises and red with scrapes. But it was still a handsome face, an arrogant, proud, very masculine face. A very kissable face.
She shouldn’t dare to press her lips to his again. But, how she wanted to! Stuff! she thought. It won’t be just my lips pressing against him, half-naked as I am. But that, too, had been pleasurable. The dark curls on his chest had rubbed against her so enticingly.
“Glee?” he asked again.
His tawny gaze held her, drawing her to her knees and over to his side. He dropped her hand and cupped her chin, turning to face her with one knee on the cot.
The way he looked at her was like a caress as his hands slipped down her throat and over the smooth flesh of her collarbones. “Ivory satin,” he breathed, his lips so near her mouth that she closed her eyes for his kiss. But he did not kiss her. He just held her near enough to feel his warm breath. His hands traveled back toward her throat and then dropped further down to caress the uppermost curves of her breasts. She felt the tightening of her nipples and the hot throb of her groin’s response.
“Oh God, Alex...” she whispered.
“Si, niña, I am here,” he replied.
The tips of his fingers traced a pattern around the limits of her breasts, slowly finding the sensitive skin just under her arms and over her ribs. Glee was beginning to long for his kiss, for a break to the mounting tension building inside. Her breathing felt more like panting, and she leaned toward him, putting much of her body’s weight on her hands, gripping his hard, denim-clad thighs.
“You’re so hard, Alex,” she murmured.
He chuckled, but she didn’t think to wonder why. “Si.”
His warm palms cupped the full weight of her breasts as his thumbs stroked their sides with tantalizing care. “And you are so soft, Glee,” he whispered. “And also so hard,” he added as his thumbs finally began a tender assault on her sensitive nipples.
She moaned and breathed his name then, unable to wait a second longer, pressed her mouth to his. He was quick to respond, searching her mouth with his tongue, nipping at its tip with playful teeth when he found it. And all the while, his hands stroked and teased her breasts until the pressure low in Glee’s belly was close to overwhelming. She moaned into his mouth, feeling the spiraling heat and pressure grow with each tortured breath she drew.
He plucked and palmed her tingling nipples, licked and sucked at her lips and tongue. “Do not hide, niña,” he said against her mouth. “Let yourself be free. Trust me, sweetheart. This is the way it was meant to be.”
The deep timbre of his voice, hot strokes of his hands, moist touches of his tongue all conspired to fan the flames of her desire to finally consume her. Glee felt the fullness of every tingling nerve come to a single point deep within her womb and then explode in a burst of pleasure so intense that she could not help but cry out.
Alex’s mouth covered hers and stifled her moans until she quieted. She pressed her cheek against his stubbled face and tried to get control of her breath.
“Mmm, bella.”
“Hm?”
“I’m sorry. I called you beautiful.” She snuggled closer and climbed into his lap, a languid warmth settling into her limbs. He rested his restricted hands on her nearest shoulder. “Ah, how I wish I could hold you in my arms, Glee. Are you well?”
She nodded, though even that movement seemed an effort. “Yes. But very tired, Alex.”
He chuckled. “I will wait then until you are recovered.”
His gently sarcastic referral to his own recovery was lost on her.
“You will?” she asked, wondering sleepily what he would be waiting for. Her return to the jail? No, that could not be since they would be leaving together in the morning. It seemed too great an exertion to wonder for long. “I should go now,” she murmured.
“Si, querida, go to sleep.” She rested her head on his hard, broad shoulder and felt it rumble as he laughed again. “No, no. In your bed, Glee. They have given you a bed, haven’t they?”
“Mmhmm.”
He turned his head away from her and yelled for Welsh. The jailor came a few minutes later, after she had managed to awaken enough to put on her shoes.
“Bring Miss Montrose’s cloak, Welsh,” Alex ordered.
Private Welsh grumbled but he brought the cloak and unlocked the cell to bring it in.
Glee felt Alex’s warm breath on her face as he draped the heavy wool around her and set her on her feet. His lips brushed hers just before he whispered in her ear. “Sleep well, sweetheart, and dream of making love with me.” His voice rose to a level audible to Welsh who stood nearby. “Good night, Glee. Hasta mañana. Until tomorrow.”
“Hasta mañana, Alejandro,” she returned, hugging the cape closed tightly. She walked to the cell door but turned back as it was locked behind her. “Gracias.”
“De nada,” he replied with a grin.
* * * *
The cold night air revived Glee somewhat as she hurried toward the guest quarters. It had been an exhausting, incredible day, but she couldn't help the smile that turned up the corners of her kiss-reddened mouth.
She held it right through Amina's silent, frenetic, and unanswered questioning, through a hurried toilet, and right into the warm feather-bed with her. As she snuggled under the blankets and closed her weary eyes, her final thoughts were of Alex.
What would it feel like to make love with Alejandro Pacheco? she wondered. It had to be magnificent, she decided, because he was magnificent. Her body quivered as she imagined what it might be like to be a part of that big, handsome man for a moment in time. So what if he was arrogant and demanding! He made her feel special and cherished. Wasn't that what really mattered?
Chapter 13
G lee awoke at Amina's insistent clapping. The light of a new day shone with eager intensity into the little room, but its enthusiasm was wasted on Glee. She buried her face in the pillows and pulled the blanket over her head.
"Go
away," she muttered. "I'm tired."
Amina snapped her fingers and pulled the blankets away so that Glee might see her gestures. One sleepy turquoise eye opened.
"Fletcher is anxious to leave, Glee. We must hurry or he says he will go without us."
"Like hell he will!"
Amina smiled and helped her mistress to leave the bed and dress. She didn't comment on the peculiar redness of Glee's lips, but she felt a duty to ask about the mild chafe that had changed the girl's usually pink-violet nipples to bright pink.
"I will get some of Erdogan's marigold oil. It appears the velvet scraped your skin." She pointed to Glee's breasts.
Under Wraps Page 13
