Yet the noise he heard didn’t come from out there. It came from somewhere in this room.
Releasing a heavy breath, he rubbed his hand across his bare chest. The morning had been warm, and after Vivian had fallen asleep, he’d taken off his shirt. Stretching his body from the cramped position he’d been in, he walked back to his chair.
As he sank back into the cushions, he heard the noise again. His gaze snapped to the bed. A bright sliver of sunlight peeked through the curtains and shone a small amount of light on Vivian. She lay on her back, the sheets gathered around her legs as she fitfully tossed to her side, letting out small moans. Judging from the tight crease on her forehead, her dream was not pleasant. He couldn’t decide if he should wake her or let her sleep.
For a few moments, she lay still before rolling his way, flinging her arms over her head and pulling her lips into a pout. Still, she looked adorable. When she made another noise, her mouth opened, her breath coming in gushes as if she ran from someone. Warily, he moved closer and watched.
“No,” she mumbled, “please, don’t hurt him.”
Who did she dream about? The worry etched in her brow revealed she cared deeply for the person in her dream.
“No, please.” Her voice rose, and this time she lashed out at some invisible object in front of her. Her arm dropped to the bed, but her breathing became faster. “Watch out. Anton,” she screamed then bolted up.
He jumped to her side and crawled on the bed, but she closed her eyes and sank onto the mattress. His heart beat with renewed life. Apparently, he had become the object of her affections, at least while she slept.
Suddenly she tossed her head on the pillow as her hands clutched the bed sheets. “Let him go. Leave him alone.” She sobbed, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “Please, don’t hurt him.”
Anton slid underneath the blankets and gathered her in his arms. When her face rested against his bare chest, heavy breaths subsided and peacefulness settled about her. Like a kitten, she cuddled next to him. Her arms wrapped around his waist. Sparks ignited inside him, and he didn’t want to release her. Perhaps she’d be upset later, but right now, he needed this, wanted her against him. If just for a moment, he had to feel as if she truly desired him.
Lying beside her, he pulled the blankets up. Anton made himself comfortable, bringing her body fully against his as he rested his head on her pillow.
Now she slept like a babe. He smiled, kissed her forehead, and then shut his eyes. Evening would arrive very soon, and he anticipated seeing her reaction when she awoke in his arms.
After several minutes, sleep failed him. He blinked his eyes open and stared into the semi-darkness, pondering his decision to take her with him to Spain. Had he forced her? And more importantly, was it really necessary?
Before leaving for war, he remembered the way his uncle acted. The people on the island treated Juanito with deference only because he demanded it. As a young boy, Anton thought his uncle was well liked and admired, but now, he realized the man pushed people to do his bidding, or they suffered the consequences.
Those feelings of panic returned, and Anton recalled the agony of knowing his uncle wanted him dead. By then, Anton had seen enough war and senseless killing. He left it all behind, sacrificing the home he loved. If Juanito wanted the island that badly, he could have it.
Things were different now. Anton didn’t need the prestige and power that came with his inheritance, but he couldn’t let a ruthless tyrant continue with his brutal domination over the weak.
If necessary, Anton would kill his uncle himself. Of course, that wasn’t at all what Anton wanted, but if it came down to it, he’d do it.
Vivian stirred in his arms. He gazed upon her angelic morning face while fear gnawed at his gut. Juanito would certainly use Vivian, making her a hostage in order to force Anton to beg for mercy. He vowed to keep her from his uncle’s clutches.
Vivian definitely had to come to Spain with him. Anton couldn’t stand seeing her hurt in any way. Although she put up a brave front, she’d never be able to withstand Juanito Ballí’s form of torture.
A deep sigh slipped through her slightly parted lips as she rubbed a soft cheek against his chest, snuggling closer. He kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger on her creamy skin before withdrawing. Leisurely, her eyelids lifted, she looked into his face, and smiled.
Assuming she wasn’t quite awake, he remained still and waited for her true reaction once she’d established her bearings. With a small pleasurable sigh, she rested her face on his chest and rubbed her gentle lips across his skin. It was his turn to groan, but he kept quiet for fear awareness would finally come to her and she’d realize her mistake.
The covers stirred as she crossed her leg over his. Beneath the blanket, her hand swept over his abdomen, sending a heated shiver through him. Sweat beaded his forehead. Anton gritted his teeth to hold his desire in check, wishing she’d awaken and put an end to this agonizing pleasure.
He slid his hand up and down her full sleeve in a light caress, but she still remained in a dream world. Another soft sigh slipped through her parted lips, making him smile. Dare he wake her? But then again, how much excruciating enjoyment could he take without wanting more?
He kissed her head again, and she peered into his eyes. Although she seemed aware, the dazed mist in her stare revealed her semi-conscious state. Vivian’s gaze dropped and rested on his mouth, causing him to silently curse his weakness. He knew when a woman wanted to be kissed, and right now she showed all the signs.
Refusing her unspoken wish was out of the question.
In a moment of weakness, he brushed his lips across hers, but when he tried to withdraw, she forged on, leaning up to meet his mouth. She combed her fingers through his hair and pecked at his lips. There was no stopping him now.
Cupping her face, he pushed her back onto the bed and used his lips to begin his seduction. He followed her lead, just enjoying the softness of her mouth. But that was all she wanted apparently, because she sighed deeply and turned her face, snuggling against his shoulder.
“You’re safe now,” she whispered. “I’ll not let him hurt you again.”
An unexplained emotion cut through his heart, confusing him greatly. If not for feeling so troubled, her words would have elicited laughter. Although it touched him to think she cared, he really didn’t deserve it, especially since he knew he was taking her to Spain against her will. Unfortunately, it had to be done.
When sleep once again finally settled over her, he pulled away and left her side, returning to his uncomfortable chair. His mind was too scrambled to sleep. Especially when a strange emotion threatened to fill his heart. An emotion he had no name for.
* * * *
Vivian blinked her eyes open and stretched her arms above her head. The descending sun’s pink light from the window caused her to squint, and suddenly the objects in the room came into focus.
Anton’s room.
With a groan, she covered her face with her hands. She was stuck. Even if she wanted to get out of this mess, she couldn’t. Not until she collected some hard evidence against him soon. If she didn’t, she’d be sailing to Spain in the near future.
Slowly, she lowered her hands and glanced around the spacious area. Although his spicy scent continued to hang in the air, she didn’t hear his deep breathing. She sat up as she surveyed the room. Anton was gone. Did that mean he had left her and sailed to Spain himself? Doubtful, knowing Anton. Then again, she really didn’t know him that well.
But, while he was away, she’d make herself useful.
She whipped off the covers and scampered out of bed. Not caring she still wore her nightgown, she hurried to the large oak dresser in the corner of the room. Resting her hands on the handle, she took a moment to listen for any noises outside the door. Luckily, the hallway remained quiet.
Careful not to make much noise, she slid open the first drawer. Piles of Anton’s underclothes took up most of the space. Her heart
beat thudded rapidly, knowing she would have to touch his most personal garments to move them aside during her search.
The first drawer didn’t have any hidden secrets, so she moved to the second, then the third. The fourth drawer wouldn’t budge, as if something was caught inside. She resisted tugging harder for fear of making too much noise.
Quickly, before Anton decided to return, she hurried to the nearest closet. His clothes hung neatly inside, and his strong masculine scent made her insides melt. Why did he have to smell so wonderful? She knelt and searched through the closet, but the blasted thing was too clean. He definitely didn’t have anything hidden here.
Letting out a frustrated breath, she moved to the trunk sitting near the window. A lock hung open on the latch. Excitement grew in her chest as she opened the lid and peered inside.
Photos and knick-knacks littered the bottom. There wasn’t enough time to study every single photo, but she skimmed through a few. Most were of a little boy and a woman. Probably Anton and his mother. So far, none were of an older man, Anton’s father.
Although the absence of a picture didn’t prove anything, it made her wonder if Anton wasn’t the heir to the family fortune, but instead, Juanito Ballí. She really needed to focus and trust her instincts.
The trinkets mixed with the photos were not expensive items, nor were they the jewels Anton was accused of stealing—which was really what she’d hoped to find.
She sat back on her heels and glanced around the room. Where else could she look?
Voices in the hallway and pounding footsteps drew her attention. Her throat clutched with panic, and she hurried into the bed, jumped on the mattress before climbing beneath the covers, and pulling them up to her chin.
She barely had time to breathe before the door opened and Anton walked in.
He met her gaze and smiled. “Good evening, Vivian. I trust you slept well?”
She shrugged. “As well as could be expected, I suppose.”
“Have you been awake long?”
“Not long at all.” It really wasn’t a lie, but still a pang of guilt stabbed at her.
He glanced around the room, his gaze resting on his trunk. When she realized she’d left the lid open, she stiffened and subdued a groan.
Meeting her gaze briefly, he shook his head. “Tsk, tsk, Vivian.” He walked to his trunk. “I suppose I should not be surprised you searched my room. After all, you are a detective.”
Heat burned her cheeks, and she wished she could control her embarrassment.
He closed the lid and turned to her. “Did you find anything of value? Stolen jewels perhaps?”
In defiance, she lifted her chin. “A good detective never gives away her secrets...or findings.”
“Ah, so I have heard.” He grinned as he moved to the bed and touched her cheek. “But mí dulce, your face cannot lie to me, and the blush in your cheeks tells me you did not find anything.” Giving her a wink, he pulled away. “Now, you must dress quickly. Adorn yourself in your best traveling gown because we will leave within the hour.”
Her heart knocked in an uneven rhythm. “Leave? For Spain?”
“Sí. I assume you want to help me discover the truth.”
Hesitantly, she nodded. What else could she do? She’d already tried to reason with him why she should not go, and he ignored her plea.
“Splendid. Because in Spain we will find what is needed to prove my identity.”
Fear slowly crept into her body. Was she making the right choice? Could she sail alone with him, knowing how attracted she was to him, without her emotions becoming involved? She had to!
“Anton?”
“Yes?”
“I think you have overlooked one important matter.”
With an arched brow, he cocked his head. “I do not think so, mí dulce.”
“Who is going to be...um...what about my chaperone?”
A grin sneaked across his handsome face as he sat on the edge of the bed. “My dear, Vivian. Have you changed into a chameleon now? Why are you so proper when last night at the soirée you were—”
Her face burned again and she held up a hand. “Anton, must you insist on bringing that up? You know my reasons.”
“Then what are your reasons now?”
“Last night I was with Margaret. This time I’ll be alone with you in public. It’s not proper.”
He reached across her lap and his fingers circled her hand in a soft hold. “So you think we should have some kind of cover?”
She nodded.
“Perhaps we should travel as a married couple.”
“That’s utterly ridiculous.” She yanked her hand away as her heartbeat quickened. “We will not become that close. Besides, I’m only going to act as your partner. After all, are we not sailing to Spain so you can prove your identity?”
“Sí.”
“Then pretending we’re married is out of the question.”
“You want us to act more like partners, then?”
“Precisely.”
He scratched his chin. “I fear that will not work, so what would you say to being my distant niece?”
She tried not to grin, but the corners of her mouth tugged upward regardless of how hard she tried not to let them. “I think people could see we are not.”
“I will say you are my American relative on my mother’s side.”
She shrugged. “That might work, I suppose.”
He slapped his knees and stood. “Very well, niece Vivian. Hurry and dress because the hour is slipping away. The sooner we climb aboard that vessel, the better for both of us.”
Her heart sank. Could she act accordingly? She didn’t understand the way her body melted every time he touched her. And heaven forbid they would share another kiss. That she would not let him do again!
Chapter Six
Vivian stood by the ship’s railing inhaling the salt air, hoping to calm her shifting stomach. She’d warned Anton about her fear of sailing, but he had insisted she go with him, nonetheless. Another wave of nausea tackled her belly, and she gnashed her teeth. He’d just have to get used to her illness and the unruly temper that accompanied.
Beside her, Anton’s alert eyes kept watch on the semi-crowded deck for anyone who seemed suspicious, something he’d been doing since they set sail a week ago. His cautious nature kept him attentive, and because of his disguise, he mingled with the crowd and didn’t stand out. Vivian thought he looked more handsome now than when she first saw him on stage.
Since first boarding, Anton had dressed more like a farmer’s son. He let his sideburns grow and styled a goatee around his mouth. Perhaps this was his true identity? Just maybe, his uncle’s story was correct and not Anton’s? She couldn’t decide. She blamed her clouded judgment because of her interest in him.
When another bout of seasickness hit her, she leaned against the railing and breathed deeply. She prayed she didn’t humiliate herself in public again as she had during those first few days on the ship. Her head pounded from trying to restrain her stomach, but she welcomed the distraction.
His hand grazed her arm, but she refused to meet his eyes.
“Vivian? Are you all right?”
“I will be in a moment,” she mumbled between clenched teeth.
“Do you wish to return to the room?”
She shook her head. “The fresh air is helping.”
“But you have been like this all week. Have you kept any food down at all?”
“A small amount.” She breathed deeply, the turbulent roll in her stomach subsided. “It’s this wind, stirring the waves and causing the ship to rock.” She placed her cool hands on her face. “I’ll be better in a moment.”
He swept his fingers across a lock of her loosely bound hair. “I worry about you. I am not pleased with your pale coloring of late.”
Meeting his stare, she shrugged. “The sea and I do not get along well.”
“May I ask why?”
“Sailing has always scared me. I don’
t like the unsettled feeling of walking on moving ground. I especially don’t like the idea of falling overboard and plunging into the icy waters and sinking to my death.”
He chuckled. “You will not fall overboard.”
“Perhaps you should have left me back in New York.”
“You know I could not. Keeping you by my side is the only way I can protect you.”
“So you keep telling me,” she mumbled.
He leaned on the rail, his gaze sweeping across the lightly rolling sea. “I am beginning to think your bout with seasickness is purely for my benefit. More and more you are proving how much you dislike my company.”
She poked her finger at his shoulder. “I told you how I felt about sailing before we ever stepped foot aboard this ship.” Folding her arms, she took a deep breath. “And I have never told you I dislike your company. Just because I don’t choose to fall for your charm doesn’t mean you won’t be a good traveling partner.”
He snapped his head toward her. “You think I am constantly trying to bed you?”
She arched a brow. “You cannot lie to me, Anton. I read you well.”
“Vivian.” He shook his head and sighed deeply. “I am taking you with me for your own protection. I am aware this trip is not solely for pleasure.”
She compelled a laugh. “I shall believe that when I see it.”
Anger marred his forehead with deep lines. “Believe me when I say, the only reason I brought you along with me is to keep you away from my uncle. If he ever got his hands on you...”
She turned her back to him. Keeping up this farce of believing him gnawed on her nerves. Then again, in the back of her mind, a niggling of doubt squeezed through, and she wondered if he’d been telling the truth all along. If only he would show her some proof. All this confusion gave her a headache. With a deep breath, she realized the sooner they arrived in Spain, the better.
Anton pulled from the rail and moved in front of her. “Vivian, we need to learn to trust each other. This trip will become very long if we cannot trust each other.”
Silently, she scolded herself for not turning out a better performance. No matter what, he couldn’t see the doubt in her eyes.
The Spanish Outlaw Page 8
