Rafael had made love to many women, but none had ever inflamed or enslaved him as did English—she was like a powerful narcotic in his blood as he caressed and explored her slender body. Every other woman he had ever known vanished from his mind and there was only room for English in his brain... and possibly his heart?
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No longer content to merely caress the smooth flesh so near his own, compulsively Rafael's hands sought the small V at the joining of her thighs, and gently, his hand between her legs, he began to thrust his finger within her, making Beth moan and twist with mounting desire. Her breasts ached for his mouth, and as if sensing it, Rafael left her lips and once again his tongue and teeth teased her nipples, sending exploding sparks of pleasure through Beth's entire body.
His mouth traveled from breast to breast, and then suddenly his lips began a slow sensual descent down her diaphragm and across her flat stomach until his mouth was buried in the soft golden curls at the top of her thighs. Beth stiffened and^ feeling her uncertainty, he stopped and looked up at her with fever-bright eyes. "Let me," he muttered roughly. "You are as beautiful there as anywhere, and I want the taste of you on my mouth, the scent of you in my nostrils. Let me!"
If mere words themselves can be aphrodisiacs, Rafael's certainly were to Beth. Already aroused to a fever pitch, Beth could not resist him and imperceptibly she relaxed, her body quivering with anticipation.
Gently Rafael pushed her legs apart, his mouth moving with agonizing slowness down across the golden curls, and Beth thought her heart would choke her, it was beating so fast. His tongue when it touched her there was exquisite torture, and as it penetrated her, jabbing like a flick of flame, Beth's entire body went rigid with stunning passion. A sobbing moan of pleasure escaped her and almost convulsively she reached for Rafael, uncertain whether she wanted him to stop or continue. She had no choice in the matter. Having found what he sought, Rafael drew in the exciting perfume of her body, his breath warm and arousing as it seemed to caress her there too. His tongue explored her thoroughly, seeking the inner softness and gently exploring all the hidden delights of that golden triangle.
One hand slipped under her hips, bringing her body even closer, if that were possible, and Rafael held her tightly to his lips as his mouth and tongue drove her mad with ecstasy. She was crying out—she knew she was but for what she couldn't guess—and she wanted
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to touch Rafael, to give him the same wild pleasure that he was giving her, yet all she could do was twist frenziedly on the bed, her mind stunned by the shattering pleasure Rafael's probing tongue evoked.
Panting, every nerve of her body seemingly centered there where his mouth tasted and touched and searched out with such sensual enjoyment, Beth thrashed frantically under his lips, pushing her body hard against his mouth with something akin to frantic desire. And then it happened. Wave after wave of the most incredible pleasure imaginable swept over her body and, unable to help herself, she cried out her gratification, her body jumping and quivering with the force of emotions unleashed by Rafael's tender assault on her.
Feeling her response and knowing what she had experienced, Rafael gave a small sigh of satisfaction, his body further excited and inflamed by her involuntary movements and cries. His mouth slowly left its former place, tasting and nibbling as it went, and he finally found her lips with his own, his tongue seeking out the wine-sweetness of her mouth.
The smell and taste of herself on him was strange at first, but when his hands set about fondling her breasts and caressing her hips and thighs, Beth's thoughts scattered before the onslaught of his hungry lovemaking. His fingers found her again and to her astonishment she felt the tight knot of desire kindle again, her body wanting him with an intensity that was overwhelming.
Rafael shifted slightly, and then she felt her thighs nudged apart, and with a moan of sheer ecstasy she was filled with his warm hard shaft. Gently he moved on her, his movements unhurried as if he were taking great pleasure in the feel and heat of her body, but Beth was hungry for more, wanting him to hurry and give her more of the pleasure that only he seemed capable of giving.
Her hands moved over his broad back and cupped his buttocks, her fingers loving the feel of the tensing, taut muscles as his body increased its rhythm. "Oh, yes," she breathed against his mouth. "O/i yes!''
Unable to bear the exquisite denial any longer, Ra-361
fael groaned and his body slammed into hers hard and fast, giving them both the pleasure they sought until with a low, incoherent moan Rafael's body fulfilled its purpose. Beth felt his body jump with the power of his release, and the knowledge that she had given him "the little death" that comes from total satisfaction sent such an explosion of flaming pleasure through her whole body that she was left damp and shaking from it.
They lay together, their limbs entwined, neither having the wish to disturb the warm intimacy between them. Rafael's mouth was unbearably tender as he kissed her face, lingering on her eyelids and nose before kissing her mouth with such g^tleness that Beth felt tears start to her eyes. Both of them, exhausted and spent by the passion that had existed between them, seemed unable to move, their limbs heavy and lethargic with the aftermath of passion.
Rafael spent the night with her, unable to bring himself to leave her, and twice more before the sun shed its red-gold light at the break of dawn Beth knew the devastation of his possession—the last time a quick, urgent taking that left her breathless by its very, frantic fierceness. She slipped back to sleep, her head resting contentedly on his strong arm, his lips at her temple, but when she woke, the sun was high in the sky and she was alone—the indentation on the snowy-white pillow being the only indication that she had been in his arms.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Rafael rode hard to reach Enchantress, pushing his men as much as he dared. He hadn't wanted to leave Beth, not then, not with the words unspoken between them that needed desperately to be said. But, rising reluctantly from beside her warm body in the cold light of dawn, he had decided to continue with his original plan. Perhaps it was best that he did leave her alone for a while, giving her a chance to come to grips with Nathan's death and himself time to learn the full extent of his commitment to her.
Marriage wasn't on his mind even then, but, staring at the ruined wreck of Enchantress, he knew he would make it beautiful again and make it beautiful for his own enchantress. And so, with his thoughts still unclear on their eventual relationship, he sent his men about their tasks, clearing away the verdant growth that crowded the old hacienda and hid its former beauty. It was back-breaking work, some thirty-odd years of tangled wood and vine that nearly encompassed the house and needed to be removed before anything else could be done.
Enchantress had been beautiful. A small, gemlike Spanish-style house set in a pine forest that sheltered the leafy cinnamon fern and the coral honeysuckle, which twined itself hungrily about the tall, towering pines themselves. The forest around it teemed with life of all kinds—lovely, fragile wild azaleas, yellow-fringed orchids, and the peculiar-appearing pitcher plants; deer, wood ducks, razorback hogs, cougars, and bobcats, as well as the dangerous rattlesnakes and deadly coral snakes.
The house had been built almost a hundred years 363
before, and when the creepers and vines were eventually cleared away it had mellow beauty. Two-storied, with delicate filigreed balconies across the second story and deep-set curved windows, the house pleased Rafael. It had the typically Spanish red-tiled roof, and although badly in need of repair, the faded tiles gave it a charm all of its own. It was maybe half the size of the casa grande at Cielo, but, walking gingerly through the debris-scattered rooms, Rafael was well satisfied. The rooms were large and spacious, and the arrangement comfortable. Refurbished, the windows cleaned, the walls scrubbed, then tinted and papered, the flooring repaired and covered with carpus, it would be a home that any man would be proud of... and any woman glad to live in?
There were several things to be seen to, the first obvious
ly being to clear the house and make it habitable—not an easy task, Rafael conceded as he viewed the second day's hard work. They'd killed a coral snake on the balcony and a rattler in what would be the main salon, as well as disturbed hundreds of spiders that had made it their home.
Once the house was livable he intended that his men should sleep there until such time as the wagons and other supplies should arrive and suitable cabins could be erected for them. With the man he had designated his lieutenant, Renaldo Sanchez, he had walked and explored the forest near the house, deciding where to build the new barn, the corrals, the cabins for the men and which sections of land to clear for the home garden and the like.
He drove himself hard, not wanting to remain here a minute longer than necessary. Beth and their undecided future were uppermost in his mind. Five days after his arrival he was ready to return to San Antonio. Leaving Renaldo with all the necessary instructions, like a man following the irresistible song of a siren, he rode eagerly toward Beth.
When Beth had awakened and found him gone, her first thought had been that she had dreamed their encounter, but, staring at the indentation where his head had rested and later, when she dressed and saw the
bruising marks of his passion on her white body, she knew it had been no dream. Rafael had spent the night in her arms, and she had given herself to him with unstinting ardor.
The memory of her actions the night before made her face burn red; she wondered what had come over her to cause her to behave in such an uncharacteristically wanton manner. Thinking of the things she had done to him and precisely what he had done to her, she felt her skin grow hot and her body go weak with a wave of desire.
Ashamed of herself for such wicked reactions to a night that should have filled her with repugnance, Beth left the seclusion of her bedroom, not certain what she would say to Rafael when next they met. She was stunned when she heard the news of his departure from Senora Lopez. She hadn't known what to expect, she wasn't even clear in her own mind what bearing last night had on her own future, but she was stricken that he had ridden away without any word to her, no message to give her some inkling of his thoughts.
Suddenly feeling used and dirty, she turned away from the kind black eyes of Senora Lopez and walked to the small garden at the rear of the house. Wandering blindly along the small stream that ran there, she thought bitterly. It didn't mean a thing to him! He merely wanted a body and mine was available. Nearly writhing in shame, she remembered her easy capitulation and this time it brought no wave of desire.
She realized now that she had been foolish in the extreme to think that his exquisitely tender lovemak-ing had meant anything more to him than a slaking of desire. How stupid of her not to have guessed that!
Grimly she made up her mind that it was time to leave San Antonio. Her life must go on, even if her heart was breaking.
When Don Miguel and Dona Madelina returned that next day from their visit, they were met by an extremely agitated Senora Lopez. "She is leaving!" she wailed. "This morning she informed me of it! She has been giving her servants orders to ready their wagons
and animals so that they might leave on Saturday for Natchez!"
Appalled and seeing the end to all their hopes for a marriage disappearing, both the Santanas rushed to the small salon where Beth was busily perusing her list of things that should be done before she and her servants could leave. She looked up in surprise when they entered the room in such distress. Instantly concerned for them, she stood up and hurried over to them.
"What is wrong?" she asked apprehensively, terrified that they might be bringing bad news of Rafael.
Don Miguel recovered himself first; his face taking on a stern air, he said gravely, ^What is wrong? This unseemly scheme of yours to return to Natchez unescorted is what is wrong! You cannot think to travel all that great distance without a man to lend you his assistance."
Looking very fragile and lovely in her black silk gown, the silvery hair looped in braids over her ears, she smiled at him slightly. "Now that my husband is dead, sefior, I have no other choice. I must return home. I cannot remain here forever abusing your—" She hesitated and continued: "—and your son's hospitality. 1 cannot thank you enough for your many kindnesses, but it is time now for me to pick up the reins of my life and begin anew."
"But you cannot!" cried Dona Madelina. "We have such hopes that you and..." Her voice trailed off at the warning glance her husband shot her. Recovering herself, Dona Madelina said more calmly, "There is no need for you to bustle off this way. Wait until my stepson returns, and he can escort you to your home."
Pleased at his wife's suggestion, Don Miguel beamed at her and said eagerly, "Yes! It would be unwise for you, a mere woman alone, to undertake such a journey with only your servants. It is unthinkable! Wait until Rafael returns—he will only be gone a matter of weeks, and then he, I am sure, will be more than willing to accompany you on your journey home."
That was the last thing Beth wanted. Her violet eyes surprisingly hard, she said quietly, "No, Fm sorry, I cannot delay any longer. I know it is not proper for a
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young woman like myself to travel without the protection of a male relative or family friend, but I have no choice."
There was no swaying her; Beth was adamant in her determination to leave on Saturday. Everyone was distressed at the thought of her departure, including Beth herself. Deliberately turning her back on Rafael was causing her untold heartache, but it had to be done. Even with Nathan dead there still were barriers between them, she thought miserably as she lay in bed that night. How could she have even begun to think otherwise? He still thought her a slut capable of cuckolding her husband at every turn, and the way he so arrogantly used her body whenever he felt like it should have warned her that he had absolutely no feeling for her, that what was to her a matter of earth-shaking importance was nothing to him. Nothing at all, she decided bleakly.
In spite of the heavy pressure put on her by the Santanas, in spite of the intervention of the Mavericks, Beth held steadfast. And she would indeed have left on Saturday, except for the fact that Friday evening she came down with one of those mysterious fevers so prevalent in the area and which struck without warning.
At first it was just a listlessness and a nagging headache that she put down to depression, but by the time she woke Saturday morning, she had a raging fever and could not leave her bed. It was a particularly violent attack, and for several days there was the very real threat that she might join her husband in his lonely grave.
She spent the next several weeks in bed so weakened by the virulent fever which racked her body that she was barely able to lift her head to sip barley water offered her by Senora Lopez and Dona Madelina. The attack left her so drained and helpless that it was well into the first week of May before she finally left her bed for the first time since she had been taken ill.
Sebastian returned, looking tanned and rugged, the second day after she had risen from her bed, and he was shocked by her appearance. In her black widow's garb, she appeared so tiny and fragile that he feared a
puff of wind would blow her away. The nearly translucent, pale skin, the very obvious blue veins at her temples and throat, and the purple shadows under the violet eyes, were clear signs that she had been dangerously ill.
Everyone treated her as if she were made of a particularly priceless porcelain, and while she chafed at it, Beth was inordinately grateful for their care and concern. The weeks that Dona Madelina and Senora Lopez had so tenderly nursed her had made the three women very close, and Beth, never having experienced the warmth and comfort that comes from being part of a family, dreaded the journey tg^ Natchez. It would be a wrenching experience, not only because of Rafael but because of the deep and abiding affection she now held for Rafael's relatives.
As the days passed she gained her health rapidly, as much from her own determination to do so as from the solicitous care and nourishing viands pressed on her. The first few days out of bed
she spent mostly resting in the garden under the shade of a huge Cottonwood tree, rebuilding her badly depleted strength, and then, as she began to grow stronger, when the purple shadows had faded to mere enchantment of the violet eyes and some of the weight she had lost had been replaced, Sebastian took her for pleasant rides in an open gig around the environs of San Antonio—never too far from town these days for fear of Comanches.
It was spring in the hill country, and the acres of bluebonnets that covered the meadows, the saucy black-eyed Susans, the purple gay-feather with its spidery plumes, and the bright golden color of the goldenrods brought an exclamation of pleasure to her lips. Even the cacti—the prickly pear with its orange and yellow bloom, and the delicate magenta shade of the rainbow cactus flower—astonished her.
The open rides were good for her. The sun painted a hint of gold on her pale cheeks and the exercise and fresh air revitalized her enormously, and the violet eyes again became clear and bright. Pleased with her recovery, Beth began once again to think of leaving for Natchez, aware that Rafael could return any day now.
Riding in the gig one afternoon with Sebastian, her face protected from the strong rays of the sun by a dehghtful leghorn bonnet trimmed with a black velvet ribbon and by the most frivolous black silk parasol imaginable, she said casually, "I shall miss these rides with you immensely once I am back in Natchez—the rides, the marvelous and varied countryside, and of course dear Senora Lopez and Don Miguel and Dona Madelina."
Keeping his eyes on the shining haunches of the little chestnut mare that pulled the gig, Sebastian asked in a deliberately bland tone of voice, "Oh? Are you thinking of leaving us?"
Her lovely face troubled, she answered truthfully, "I must. I have written Nathan's parents of his death, and my own father also, but there are things that will need to be done and I must do them. I cannot remain here in San Antonio forever. My home is in Natchez, and it is there that I must go... and soon."
Sebastian frowned. He had finally gotten over his infatuation with Beth, but unfortunately, in doing so he had become unusually cynical. That she could have fooled him so completely stung his pride and made him begin to wonder if most women weren't cheats and flirts behind their gentle airs. With his newfound cynicism his pain had lessened, and as the cynic in him took over, so had he abandoned all of his previous arguments in her defense. He truly believed that she was Rafael's mistress and he wouldn't be taken in by her apparent innocence again!
Louisiana 08 - While Passion Sleeps Page 37
