Louisiana 08 - While Passion Sleeps

by Shirlee Busbee

  A gasp of shock and admiration burst from her when at last Manuela unveiled the gown. "Oh, Manuela...!" she breathed with reverence, undecided whether to giggle with nervousness at the thought of actually wearing it or to order Manuela to destroy it instantly! It was truly a strumpet's gown, and the half-hysterical thought occurred to her that at least it was black. Put not entirely black

  Looking at the gown and thinking about appearing before him in it gave her pause, and for several minutes she almost put the scheme aside. It was going to make him angry, of that she was certain, and did she have the courage to flaunt herself in that shocking garment?

  Her chin lifted rebelliously. Of course she had the courage! And why should she worry of his reaction?— it was to shake him, to throw his words back in his teeth, that she had embarked upon this preposterous path, wasn't it?

  Shortly, wearing the gown and standing in front of the mirror, she stared with widening eyes at herself,

  wondering if she truly did have the nerve to appear in public in such a gown. The dress had not fit perfectly to begin with, but with a few expert tu:cks and stitches here and there Manuela had managed to rectify the problem, the black satin gown, what there was of it, now clinging like a second skin to Beth's slender curves.

  A strumpet's gown indeed, Beth thought with a tiny choke of uneasy laughter. There was hardly any back at all, she decided with awe as she twirled in front of the mirror and glanced over her shoulder at the expanse of smooth magnolia flesh that met her eye. She was literally naked from the small puff sleeves at the soft shouldiers to her waist, the blacR satin molding lovingly to her rounded buttocks before falling in a series of long ruffles to the floor. But the front—! A deep V, which started from underneath her breasts and ran to well below her navel, was made of a transparent scarlet gauze, and it contrasted vividly with the black satin of the remainder of the gown. The gown was definitely outrageous, the black satin cut so low as to leave her entire bosom bare except for the sheer scarlet gauze that was draped rather provocatively across her small breasts, the thrust of her nipples very apparent through the flimsy material. Her alabaster skin took on a rosy tone through the gauzy covering, which offered little in the way of protection, giving enticing glimpses of her midriff, navel, and flat stomach before it ended in a point just above decency.

  Manuela clucked disapprovingly about her, and even Beth almost thought better of the idea, but then she remembered the exchange with Rafael and her jaw took on a mulish slant. A mistress, was she? Then it was certainly time she acted and looked the part!

  She had even had Manuela apply cosmetics to her face, and her mouth was a pouting, bright scarlet blossom, the violet eyes seeming more mysterious and deeper in color between the darkened lashes, and the small black beauty-patch near the corner of her mouth just begged to be kissed. The silvery hair had been arranged in a graceful tangle of curls that cascaded from the top of her head to below her shoulders, and a small fringe of curls lay across her brow. Jewelry was the only thing

  that presented any trouble, as she longed for a pair of vulgar, glittering earrings, but having forgotten to ask Manuela to buy some of those also, she had to do without. All in all, she was well pleased with her scarlet-and-black gown and painted mouth—if a little nervous of Rafael's reaction.

  Manuela was not at all pleased with Beth's appearance. Nearly wringing her hands in distress, she asked despairingly, "You are not going downstairs to dine looking like that, are you, senora?"

  A strained smile on her mouth and a determined glint in the violet eyes that hid her own trepidations, Beth said with false calmness, ''Of course! Why else did I have you buy the gown?" But, seeing the other woman was truly concerned, Beth said more gently, "Don't worry, Manuela, no blame can come to you—after all, I ordered you to buy the gown."

  It was all very well to tell Manuela not to worry, Beth thought with disquietude a few minutes later as she somewhat gingerly descended the staircase on her way to the dining room, but it was something entirely different when she was on the point of meeting Rafael face to face. For a second she remembered with regret and a bit of cowardice the black, lacy shawl Manuela had nearly begged her to wear just as she had left the room. Now she wished she had, as she glanced down at the front of her dress. It really was indecent, she reflected with growing uneasiness. Perhaps she shouldn't have chosen this particular way to fling Rafael's words back in his face, and she seriously considered returning to her room and changing before it was too late. But the decision, whatever it might have been, was taken out of her hands when the door to the dining room opened and Rafael stepped out into the hall and saw her standing there on the steps.

  He had come specifically for her. Waiting with Se-nora Lopez in the main salon before dinner, Rafael had not thought too much about it; but as the first course was about to be served and she still had not put in an appearance, and also thinking of their earlier quarrel, he had decided cynically that she might be sulking in her room. He was on the point of finding her and re-

  moving her forcibly from its safety if that proved to be the case.

  The first thing he noticed was the black velvet patch near the corner of her scarlet mouth, but then, as he crossed to stand at the foot of the stairs and looked up at her just a few steps above him, the full impact of the gown hit him. ''Holy Mother of God!" he sighed irreverently as his eyes slid down the scarlet V, appreciating the alluring view it afforded. Immediately guessing what she was about, he found himself both furious and amused at the same time. Little minx! he thought with angry enjoyment of the spectacle she presented.

  Her chin set at an antagotiistic angle, she glared down at him, waiting with a fast-beating heart for his next move. When it appeared that he was leaving all the moves up to her, she asked with bravado, ''Do you like it? I thought the gown rather appropriate for your opinion of me."

  . His amusement gone, he slanted a sardonic eyebrow upward and inquired in a harsh voice, "And you intended to announce to the world our relationship with this display? Is that what you had in mind?"

  "Yes! And the word is intend, not intended.^"

  "Oh, but I beg to differ with you, mi cara,*' he drawled insolently, his eyes flickering with the hard shine of desire as they roamed over her. "You're not going anywhere in that gown, except where it belongs... a bordello or a bedroom. Certainly Fm not going to have you offend Senora Lopez by appearing in it, nor am I going to allow my servants to look upon what I consider my own."

  "You can't stop me!" she hissed furiously, wary of the look on his face and the way his mouth had taken on a sensuous curve.

  Rafael took two steps nearer to her, their faces level with each other, and, with his breath warm on her lips, he muttered, "Can't I? Shall we just—?" He stopped as his mayordomo, Paco, walked out into the hall.

  Beth's body was blocked from his view and, not sensing the undercurrents that flowed between the other two, he announced apologetically, "The aperitiuo is served, senor, senora."

  Not looking at him, his eyes locked on Beth's, Rafael said carelessly, "Tell Senora Lopez we will not be dining with her this evening. Give her our apologies."

  "No!" Beth burst out, reading the hungry desire that flamed in Rafael's gray eyes.

  Rafael suddenly grinned, "Oh, yes, querida. Oh, yes!" he said huskily, reaching out for her. "It's what you bought the gown for, after all."

  "That's not true!" she cried indignantly, wondering bleakly if maybe she hadn't meant to provoke this sort of reprisal. But, unwilling to admit it even to herself, she started fighting back the instant Rafael's hands closed around her shoulders, struggling to escape his hold.

  Rafael only laughed. And in front of Pace's amused, admiring eyes he swung her over his shoulder, ignoring the furious fists that pounded on his back and the wildly kicking legs and feet that pummeled the front of him, and then, turning to Paco, he said lightly, "The senora is not feeling well and I must put her to bed. You understand, si?"

  A wide smile on his br
own face and a knowing gleam in the dark eyes, Paco nodded and said approvingly, ^Si, senor, si!"

  A muffled scream of pure rage was heard from Beth as, without another word, Rafael swung around and began climbing the stairs with her still slung over his shoulder like a piece of booty. Reaching the landing at the top of the stairs, instead of going in the direction of her room he went the opposite way, and Beth knew with a sinking heart and a deplorable quiver of desire in the pit of her stomach that he was taking her to his own room.

  Determined to resist, even if it went against her own yearnings, she spat, "Put me down, you bastard!" and landed a particularly vicious blow somewhere near his ear as she wiggled and fought to gain her footing.

  "What language for a lady, and from England at that! I am appalled by your lack of manners, English," Rafael teased, his amusement very obvious.

  Stopping in front of a door some distance down the wide hall from her room, he opened it and walked in-

  side. Crossing swiftly through what must have been a sitting room, Beth getting an upside-down view of a lush ruby carpet and the legs of chairs and a desk as he went through, he then pushed open a set of double doors that led to his bedchamber. With quick strides he approached a big bed with old-fashioned hangings of rich blue velvet and unceremoniously dumped Beth on it.

  Grinning down at her, an odd light in his eyes, he murmured, "I've dreamed of you lying there often enough, but I find the reality far more agreeable than mere dreams."

  "You'll regret this!" BethjDromised recklessly, her silvery curls having come undone and tumbling in artless disarray around her lovely face.

  Shrugging out of his chaqueta and tossing aside his white linen shirt, he said bluntly, "I doubt it! There is little if anything that I regret in my life, and this certainly won't trouble me, except..." He added wickedly, "if I didn't do it."

  Fighting down the rising excitement that swirled betrayingly through her body, Beth looked around desperately for some way of escape. It was a huge, elegant room in which she found herself, a very masculine room, from the dark, heavy furniture and gold silk-hung walls to the rich jeweled tones of the Brussels carpet that covered the entire floor. There were three sets of double doors: One glass pair obviously led to a balcony like her own; another pair must lead to a connecting bedchamber, she decided thoughtfully; and the final set was the pair that they had just entered through. The sets of doors were made of carved mahogany, and from the appointments of the room and the size, Beth guessed that these must be the rooms that the master and mistress of the house would usually share. Rafael's almost naked body, his calzoneras the only piece of clothing still on him, blocked escape through the sitting room, and the balcony doors would do her little good. Eyeing the distance to the third set of doors, she edged cautiously toward the side of the bed. When Rafael undid the calzoneras and started to step out of them, she leaped

  from the bed and raced frantically toward what she prayed was escape.

  Breathing hard, her heart thumping madly in her breast, she reached the doors and feverishly tugged on the crystal doorknobs—to no avail. From behind her Rafael said derisively, 'They're locked, English."

  She whirled about to face him, the wood cool against her back, her eyes wide and angry. He was entirely naked. Watching his arrogant approach mesmerized, she wondered distractedly why she had ever thought to get the better of him.

  Rafael stopped directly in front of her, and with one hand he gently tipped her face up. His mouth touched hers lightly and he said against her lips, 'It is such a lovely gown, I hate to ruin it—but the body it clothes is far more enticing." And before she had a chance to understand what he meant, a hand just above each breast, with one violent tug he ripped the gown right down the center, the remains falling silently to the floor, leaving Beth standing naked in front of him, the scarlet and black material a soft heap around her ankles.

  For a long moment they stared wordlessly at each other, then with a low groan of desire Rafael swept her up into his arms and began carrying her toward the bed once again. The touch of his arms made her tremble with desire, but, unwilling to be defeated so easily, she suddenly exploded into a clawing, scratching little cat.

  Unaware that her struggles inflamed rather than cooled his passion, Beth twisted and squirmed in the strong arms, her hands pushing and clawing futilely against his shoulders. She hadn't wanted this to happen—she had only wanted to defy him, to make him angry, and to exert herself in some way, to prove to him that she was not the docile, willing silly creature he thought. And yet her body was beginning to respond to the warm nearness of his, and she almost wept from the unfairness of it all

  Oblivious of anything but the soft, silken, thrashing body in his arms, blindly Rafael's mouth sought hers and found it. Hungrily he kissed her, the weeks he had been denied even the sight of her making his desire

  more urgent, more demanding, and now that she was in his arms he went a httle mad with the exquisite feehng of her naked body next to him.

  Even though her body betrayed her and in spite of the hot waves of yearning that were sweeping her, Beth still fought against him. With increasing languor she still sought to escape from his dark dominance, her hands pushing him away, her body accepting the caresses pressed upon it but never returning any, her mouth allowing him the intimacy he demanded but never giving.

  Rafael wasn't so lost in his own pleasure that he wasn't aware of her resistance useless though it might be. As the minutes passed and she continued to hold back from him, to deny him the eager willing submission that he wanted, he kissed her more fiercely, as if he would impart to her the same driving passion that flamed through his blood.

  Once he would have taken her without compunction, caring only for his own satisfaction. But his relationship with Beth had come far since those days and, having known the joy of her surrender, the memory of their last night together vivid and dear in his mind, he hesitated. Suddenly tasting the salt of tears on his mouth, he raised his head and looked down at her.

  Beth wasn't even conscious that she was crying. She only knew that it was agony to have him this near, to have his mouth and hands arousing emotions she had no control over, and yet know that he felt nothing but contempt for her. Her body might be on fire to know the black sorcery of his possession, but her mind and brain were writhing in anguish and torment.

  His dark face looming above her, the gray eyes nearly black with passion, Rafael asked indistinctly, "English? Why do you weep? Have I hurt you?"

  Her body looked very white against the deep blue of the coverlet, the fair hair like strands of spun silver splayed out across the velvet material, and with eyes that were pleading and stormy at the same time, Beth said thickly, "You hurt me every time you take me, thinking that I am a whore. Every time you touch me,

  thinking that I have lain with Lorenzo, that I would lay with Sebastian at any time, you hurt me."

  His face tensed, and between them she could feel his passion dying. The full mouth thinned in quick blazing anger, Rafael retorted harshly, ''And what else am I to think? It isn't as if I merely imagined you in Lorenzo's arms, is it? That particular affair I know for a fact!" Almost reluctantly he added, "With Sebastian I'll acquit you—even he admits that the relationship between the two of you was innocuous, and not from his want of trying to make it something else. But don't ask me to deny the proof of my own eyes."

  Her throat aching with suppressed anger, the violet eyes darkening with emotion, Beth demanded hotly, "Am I supposed to be grateful that because Sebastian says I am innocent, you believe him? No, thank you!"

  Catching him by surprise, she pushed him furiously away, and when he landed on his back on the bed beside her, she swiftly moved so that her body was half lying on his, her slender weight momentarily pinning him to the bed. The long, silvery hair brushing his chest and the taut breasts pushing distractingly against him, Beth asked mockingly, "What if I say Sebastian lies? Which one of us will you now believe?"

  He frowned
, the thick black eyebrows meeting in an uncertain scowl over his aquiline nose. Sebastian hadn't lied, of that he was certain, but not certain why. Fencing for time and suddenly very wary, he inquired, "Did he?"

  Beth gave a little moan of frustration and her clenched fist beat unconsciously on Rafael's shoulder. "That's not the point! Don't your own instincts tell you anything? Didn't that day you found me with Lorenzo shock you? I know we had only met the one time, but didn't you find it strange that after refusing to meet you secretly—that such a short while later you should find me naked in the arms of another man? Didn't you ever wonder how Consuela knew exactly where to find us?" Sobbing quietly, the tears sliding unheeded down her pale cheeks, Beth's fist beating against him in a tatoo of pain and desperation, she cried half-hysteri-cally, "Consuela planned it, you great bloody fool! She

  sent me a message, and like the green girl I was, hoping to avert a scandal and maybe set her mind at ease, I met her where she had said. She drugged me, Rafael!" Crying in earnest now, her breath coming in hiccuping little jerks, she said miserably, "It was in the tea—and she paid Lorenzo to be there! Between the two of them they planned it—she—she thought you were too interested in me at the Costa soiree, and she said that she wanted to make certain that you forgot about me, that I wouldn't be a threat to your marriage."

  Rafael had stiffened when she first started speaking. When his face remained remote as she finished the sordid story, she looked at him with growing despair. "You don't believe me, do you?" she asked dully, defeat washing over her like a black, relentless tide.

  Making no move to comfort her, although he had to fight bitterly against the urge to do so, he said flatly, "It's rather an improbable tale, isn't it? There was nothing in our marriage to save, and Consuela knew it, so I hardly see her going to the lengths that you claim she did. What would she gain fi:'om such a scheme? We had practically lived apart for years, and she knew how I felt about her."