Passionate Pursuit
Page 25
He huffed.
“Poor Sancha.” Luscinda looked to where he had and inched closer to him, her fragrance heavy and cloyingly sweet. “We must understand what she goes through and pity her.”
His chest tightened with indignation, fury heating his face. “What did you say?”
She stepped back, her smile faltering. “I meant no harm. Everyone feels quite badly for her. Any woman would be shamed at having lost her betrothed to a younger sister, leaving her alone and unwanted at such an advanced age. Fernando surely had his reasons for spurning her and the great wealth she could have brought to their union. However, she has no recourse now except to enter the order and remain at the convent. As soon as she returns there, of course. Perhaps she prefers such a sad fate rather than fulfilling her duty as a wife and mother as the rest of us long for.”
Señora de Cortés stopped working her fan despite perspiration dotting her fleshy cheeks and stout throat. “Our women have always carried out their duty in birthing the finest heirs. Nothing has stopped them.”
Not even a man’s disinterest. Poor Luscinda. She might have been a nice girl if not for her greedy mamá.
“Excuse me.” He turned on his heel and left before her mother suggested he offer his future to Luscinda or threatened him if he refused to comply.
Sancha sat at a long table laden with tonight’s feast. Isabella stood behind her sister, motioning frantically for him to fill the empty chair next to hers.
Was there any doubt?
He reached the spot. Another man put his hand on the back of the chair to make his claim. Isabella scowled, warning him away. Good thing. Enrique was ready to push the fool aside. He offered a slight bow to Isabella, acknowledging her assistance.
She grinned.
Once seated, he warned himself to give Sancha a chance to meet him halfway. He considered clearing his throat to capture her attention or asking her to pass the olives and boiled eggs, both slightly out of his reach. Of course, the servants who stood behind the chairs were well prepared to see to every need, except what he wanted most. Her in his arms.
She wore the same fragrance he’d come to identify with her. Her delicate rose scent brought to mind soft, heated breezes, a night sky in summer, threads of moonlight piercing the velvety dark, the silvery glow glittering off countless stars.
Perhaps a simple greeting would encourage her to look at him.
Before he could open his mouth, Luscinda took the seat to his other side with her mamá directly across from them. Both women regarded him intently. No different from beasts in the wild before those animals pounced on their prey.
He ignored them and filled himself with Sancha. No one else mattered. “Buenas noches.”
She looked at him without pause, her expression guileless and wanting.
He smiled helplessly. Her eyes were more beautiful than he recalled, lushly lashed and expressive, the dark brown color unbearably warm. His brother had always boasted about Isabella’s blue-green eyes as the most beautiful on earth.
Unique, yes, but more exquisite than Sancha’s? Never.
Her cheeks grew rosy as they always did whenever he was near. If that wasn’t proof of her attraction, what was?
He had much he wanted to teach her. The delights of their carnal play, the pleasure of wedding him, bearing their many children, their future filled with enough joy to last a lifetime. She only had to agree to his plan.
She inclined her head. “Buenas noches, Señor Don Enrique.”
His stomach sank. Such formality when she’d already claimed his heart. She should take lessons from Luscinda, whose leg brushed his. He shifted in his seat to get away from her. She controlled herself for a moment, then slid her foot toward his. Their shoes touched.
Enough of this. He leaned toward Sancha to keep the others from hearing. “We must have a word after we eat. I insist.”
Rather than acquiesce or demurely turn away, she studied him without reserve, her inner strength and resolve showing through. “Why must we?”
Expressing himself when they were alone would prove difficult enough. Doing so in front of this crowd would be impossible. He lifted one eyebrow. “The matter is not one I intend to speak of here.”
Her cheeks darkened, but she didn’t draw back, apologize, or try to change the subject as another woman might have. He liked her bravery in facing him even though her spirit rankled at times. Like now.
She straightened even more. “You know a chaperone has to accompany us if we speak alone.”
If there were anyone else around, they would hardly be alone.
Isabella leaned down between them. “I will chaperone willingly.”
Enrique had forgotten she was behind them. He gave her a hard stare, wanting her to go to her husband.
Fernando had arrived finally, thinner than he’d been before his brush with death, but his complexion matched Enrique’s healthy bronze shade. They resembled each other closely, both tall with hazel eyes and dark brown hair. Only Enrique’s white forelock set them apart.
Fernando waved away his guests’ cheers and a servant’s assistance, but he did take Isabella’s arm. She led him to his chair at the head of the longest table. Rather than sitting at the other end, as custom dictated, she took the seat at his side, her full attention on her husband, father to the child she’d recently conceived.
Enrique wanted Sancha to treat him the same way and let him fill her with their babes.
After eating a bite of roasted pork, she peeked at him. A pearl of juice clung to the corner of her mouth. He longed to lick it away, then run his tongue over the seam of her lips, coaxing them to part.
“Dear Sancha.” Luscinda leaned over. “How wonderful to see you out and about despite what occurred. Are you feeling all right?”
He turned to Luscinda and pulled back quickly at how close she was. “If you mean her health, as you must, she was never ill.”
“Señor Don Enrique is correct.” Sancha remained composed as always. “I am quite well.”
Luscinda gave him a sweet smile, then looked around him and spoke to Sancha. “When do you return to the convent?”
“Tonight, surely.” Señora de Cortés heaped more mutton on her plate and took the last of the white bread near them. “Prayers are important and should never be put off.”
He drummed his fingers against the table. “Can she finish her meal first?”
“Of course.” Luscinda grew as serious as he had. “We want her to be happy.” She leaned past him again, her arm touching his, her breasts nearly falling out of her gown. “Eat, please. You have no reason to deny yourself now with your betrothal in the past. You can fatten up as widows do when they no longer have to worry about pleasing men.”
Enrique shot Luscinda and her mother a warning look to say no more.
Both women kept their tongues. Once they’d stuffed their mouths with food, not words, he ate a small portion of bread and cheese, his hunger hardly for tonight’s fare. He wanted what his brother had.
Fernando and Isabella held hands during their meal, sharing comments and quiet laughter, shutting out the rest of the world. Having witnessed what they’d gone through to come this far, including rogues intent on their destruction, Isabella’s unfortunate deception, and a murderous uncle, Enrique was happy for them and sad for himself.
Sighing, he reached for an orange. So did Sancha. Their hands touched.
Bursts of heat raced up his arm, his skin tingling, throat constricting with desire. Before she could pull her hand from his, he folded his fingers around hers. Their softness and warmth stole his breath.
Others laughed boisterously, leaned back in their chairs, or indulged in the food and drink. She stroked his thumb.
His blood thickened with hard lust and aching tenderness. She wasn’t like Luscinda and the other young women who flirted shamelessly, pursuing a man until they ran him down. A touch from her meant something.
He incli
ned closer to ensure no one heard them speak. “Will you join me after you sup? Please.”
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Meet the Author
Tina Donahue is an Amazon and international bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for Kensington, Ellora’s Cave, Samhain Publishing, Siren Publishing, Decadant, Luminosity, Booktrope, and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic novels (Adored; Deep, Dark, Delicious; Lush Velvet Nights) were named finalists in the 2011 EPIC competition. Sensual Stranger, her erotic romance, was chosen Book of the Year 2010 (erotic category) at the French review site, Blue Moon reviews. The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for her erotic romance Lush Velvet Nights. Deep, Dark, Delicious received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition. Take Me Away captured second place in the NEC-RWA contest. And The Yearning was honored with an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition. She’s featured in the 2012 Novel and Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company. You can find her online at TinaDonahue.com, and on Twitter and Facebook.
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