But the idea of being completely free was worrisome. As a princess she knew who she was, what to do, that she was safe and sheltered. Freedom took away that support, that protection. As tantalizing is it seemed, it frightened her. But she probably didn't need to worry. She would soon be married, and though she might have to learn what foods to have the chef prepare and what clothes to wear, Rudolf would take care of everything else.
That left her feeling dissatisfied.
"Are you afraid of heights?" Luke asked. "No. Why do you ask?"
"You've been standing there with this slightly startled look on your face."
She started forward and reached for his outstretched hand. "I was just thinking."
"You can do that in the coach."
Luke took her hand, and suddenly she had to concentrate on walking. She'd danced with many men in her life, taken their hands to mount a horse, climb stairs, walk in the garden. Luke's touch was entirely different.
She felt his strength, sensed his steely determination, felt infused with the energy that flowed through him like a turbulent stream during the spring thaw. Like a rock thrown into the serene pool of her life, he disturbed her calm, sending ripples fanning out to every corner. She told herself not to be fanciful, but the feeling grew stronger.
Luke drew her onto a huge slab of rock that extended out into space. She felt as if she were suspended in midair, looking down at the world she'd just traveled. The view was breathtaking.
Below she saw where the mountain fell away into the tangle of oak and juniper. One could almost have drawn a line separating it from the saguaro cactus, ocotillo, and mesquite that marked the beginning of the desert. Then there was the almost barren strip that merged with the verdant band bordering each side of the San Pedro River. On the other side of the river, the pattern reversed itself as the land climbed toward a distant mountain.
"You'd never know from up here that it was so hot and miserable down there," she said.
"That's pretty much what it's like being a princess. You're so far above the ordinary world, you have no concept of what it's like to live down there."
It angered her that he should ruin a lovely moment by taking up his favorite litany.
"My father and my uncle devoted their lives to improving the condition of our people."
"Then why were they overthrown?"
Why? She didn't know. No one had bothered to teach her how the government worked. Or why it might fail. When she asked, she was told such things were unsuitable for a woman to ask, especially a princess. She had asked her servants, but they were insulated from the general population by the same system that kept her in a virtual cocoon. "I don't know," she admitted. "My uncle said it was outside subversives, mercenaries like yourself."
"And you believe that?"
She'd always been told what to do, what to believe. Luke's relentless questioning made her realize she'd given up trying to think long ago. "Why shouldn't I?" she asked.
"Look down there," Luke said, pointing to the desert several thousand feet below. "What can you see?"
"Trees, bushes, cactus."
"Do you see any birds, mice, or squirrels?"
"You know I can't see anything that small from up here."
"That's exactly how it was in your country. You were so high you couldn't see the people below. You had no idea who they were, what their lives were like. They could have been starving, living in abject fear, and you'd never have known."
"Things couldn't have been that bad without my knowing," she protested.
Without warning, he grabbed her and kissed her hard on the mouth. It shocked Valeria so much, she couldn't breathe. No coherent thought emerged from the jumble whirling about in her head. Everything about her simply came to a dead stop.
Just as abruptly, Luke broke the kiss and held her at arm's length from him. "Did you like that? Did you want me to do it? Could you stop me from doing it again?"
Exclamations of surprise, words of protest, and pleas for explanation stumbled over each other in her mind.
He wrapped his arms about her, pulled her tight against his chest. "You're helpless, aren't you? You can't run away and you can't fight me."
She could if she could get over the shock. She had never been held in such an intimate embrace. Not even when dancing in public would a man have dared let his body touch hers. The sensation was enormous, disabling.
"Imagine you are a peasant woman," Luke said. "You sell flowers on the street. You have six children, cook three meals a day, do the laundry, clean the house, satisfy your husband at night. You have less money to spend in a whole year than you now spend on one dress. Can you imagine what your life would be like?"
Try as she might, she couldn't think of anything except Luke's body pressed against the length of her own. She could feel his warmth, the curve of his muscles, but she felt no give in them.
Two opposing feelings succeeded her initial shockanger that he would treat her with such contempt, and a desire that he never let her go. Since she could hardly breathe, she didn't understand that at all. She'd known for some time that Luke aroused strange and unruly longings within her, but she'd never realized until now just how intense they were. She wanted to throw aside everything she'd ever learned, and fling her arms around his neck.
"I have no idea what her life might be like," she said, abandoning any attempt to understand Luke or her conflicting emotions.
"You say you have no control over your life, but there's a legion of servants to see to your comfort, an army of soldiers ready to give their lives to protect you. Suppose a soldier came to her flower stand-or a mercenary like myself-who liked what he saw. Supposed he drew her to him"-Luke's arms tightened around her still more-"and kissed her ruthlessly."
He kissed her again.
No other man had ever kissed her on the lips. She had no way to differentiate ruthless from enthusiastic ... or impassioned ... or heedless. Her mind told her she ought to be furious, insulted, violated, even frightened. Her body pleaded with her to give in to Luke's embrace.
She felt herself responding to him, leaning into his caress, returning his kiss. Somewhere in a corner of her brain, the sudden tenderness in her breasts registered. She'd think about that later when she wasn't wrapped in a whirlwind of sensations that narrowed her focus to Luke's body.
She felt the shape of him as he pressed against her, the curve and power of his leg, the hardness and breadth of his chest, the softness and warmth of his lips enveloping her like a tidal wave, nearly suffocating her with the intensity of his kiss.
Luke released her and stepped back.
The shock was immense. She felt deprived of energy, of the strength to stand. Her knees trembled and she reached for his arm to steady herself. It was as hard as an iron balustrade and just as immovable. It took a moment before her strength returned. She looked up at him, questioning, hoping for an explanation of what had happened to her.
One look told her Luke had been nearly as unprepared for what had happened between them. His expression combined surprise, confusion, and fear. She couldn't understand why he should be surprised or confused. He had kissed her. She might be inexperienced, but she could tell he'd done it many times before. What could he possibly have to fear from her? She was helpless. He'd said so himself.
"There would be no one to help you," Luke continued. "Anyone who interfered would be beaten senseless." He appeared to be having difficulty making his words form coherent sentences. "Or bayoneted and thrown into the river."
How could he expect her to think logically when her entire well-ordered way of thinking had just come tumbling down? Suddenly she didn't know what she wanted or how to go about finding out. She just knew that in some way this man was the key to everything, and he couldn't talk about anything but peasants and mercenaries.
"Peasant women, especially the pretty ones, have to worry about being caught out alone. Men of your class take advantage of them, then discard them when they lose their appeal. You'
ve never had to think of your safety, but that thought never leaves the mind of a peasant woman. Not even marriage can protect her from soldiers like me."
"Why?" She didn't know why she asked. She didn't want to know.
`"There's no limit to what I might do to you-with you-now," Luke said. "And there isn't anyone to stop me."
He came two steps toward her. All the confusion had left his expression. His face had assumed a hard, uncompromising mask. She had sensed danger in him from the beginning. It had seemed exciting, alluring, but now she wasn't so sure about it. She took a step back.
"I am not a peasant woman."
"It doesn't matter. You've lost your army and your servants are miles away."
"You wouldn't dishonor me."
"Why?"
"You're not that kind of man."
She didn't like his smile, or the laugh that followed. "You don't know what kind of man I am."
"You've been hired to protect me."
"I've been hired to deliver you to your future husband. I made no promises about anything else."
"You said women had rights in your country."
"They do, but men like me have no honor and no loyalty, not even to ourselves. We don't live long and seldom die in our beds, so we take what we can while we have the chance."
Valeria had never thought she would be frightened of Luke. Or even careful around him. He didn't like her, despised what she represented, but he cared passionately about his reputation. She couldn't believe he'd jeopardize it to teach her a lesson. And that was what this seemed like, a lesson to make her understand that everything had changed, that she could no longer take her safety for granted. He certainly didn't act like a man carried away by emotion, even lust. She might not be in control of her life, but Luke rigidly controlled everything about his.
She backed into a boulder, tried to move around it, but Luke placed his hands on either side of her. When she tried to duck under his arms, he grabbed her and pulled her hard against him.
"I've been without a woman for a long time," he said. "I've spent four hours bringing you up here. It'll take four hours to get back. I think I deserve a little something for that, don't you?"
Chapter Twelve
Valeria didn't know what to do or say. Despite war, revolution, and being driven from her own country, her physical safety had never been threatened. If her father were still on the throne, Luke would have been hanged for even talking about what he'd just done. But she was alone, miles away from anyone, pinned against a rock, helpless against Luke's superior strength.
"You've made your point. I'm not safe anymore. I'm not as strong as a man."
"Is that what you think I'm doing, making a point?"
The slight pause before he spoke gave him away. "Aren't you?"
"You could look at it that way, but we could both have some fun with it."
She didn't like the sound of his mocking laugh. It made her angry that he would treat her this way just to prove a point. It made her even angrier that her body would respond to him.
"I'll fight."
"That will make it more exciting," he said. He pressed his body more tightly against her. He moved his face closer and closer until she could look nowhere but directly into his ice-cold blue eyes. "I like it when a woman fights back. It heats my blood, and I like everything better when my blood is hot."
The words issued from his mouth on a moist cloud that seemed to scald her cheek. She thought of going limp in his arms, but her blood was up, and she couldn't be passive if she wanted to.
She attempted to duck under his arms. He just moved his hands closer to her sides, pinning her body against the rock with his own.
"It wouldn't do any good to escape," he whispered. "Even if you could outrun me, where would you go?" "My horse is faster than yours."
"You can't mount without my help."
She wasn't as strong as he was. She couldn't run as fast. She couldn't mount her horse alone. She would have to defend herself by her wits, hot blood or not. She had nothing else.
"You don't want to do this."
"Why not? You're a woman. A beautiful woman at that. What more could a man want?"
"I've never done this before. I wouldn't be very good at it. When we got back to the camp, I'd accuse you in front of everyone."
"I've been accused of worse."
She couldn't imagine what could be worse. "I'll keep on accusing you until your men cringe at the sound of my voice. I'll make the men so miserable they'll quit."
He moved a little bit closer. "You're making me very warm.,,
She didn't want to make him warm. She wanted to cool him off.
"I'll lie still. I won't help you. It'll be like making love to a corpse."
The very idea made her skin crawl. She hoped it would have an equally chilling effect on Luke.
"Beggars can't be choosers."
She couldn't believe she'd misjudged him. Could he really mean to assault her? If so, why didn't she feel frightened? Why was she afraid she might like his lesson too much to lie still?
"I bet you'll be a pretty hot number once I thaw a little of that royal ice in your veins," he said, his lips almost touching hers. "I hear blue-blooded females like jumping from one bed to another after marriage. Just consider this your initiation. You couldn't have a better teacher. I've had lots of experience."
She could believe that. As handsome as he was, he probably had half the females in the West panting after him. She'd been on the verge of doing the same thing until she realized he didn't have a heart. She wondered how many other women had made the same mistake.
He kissed her. He simply took her mouth captive. She tried to resist, but she couldn't move. She could barely summon the will to resist. His lips were warm, soft, and very persuasive. It was inconceivable to her that he could make her a willing participant in this lesson, and yet she felt her anger fading, the rigidity leaving her muscles. Any moment now, she'd start kissing him back.
She jerked her head to one side, breaking their kiss. "Stop," she said.
When he ignored her plea, she tried to bring her hands up to scratch his face. Anticipating her intent, he grabbed her wrists, and pinned them to her sides. "You wouldn't want to ruin my face. Think of all the women who'd be disappointed."
"I'd be thrilled," but she wouldn't. He had a wonderfully handsome face. She would have enjoyed kissing him if he'd wanted to kiss her for who she was. Knowing he was teaching her a lesson took all the pleasure out of it. She struggled to break his hold on her, but it was useless. His strength made a mockery of all her attempts.
So did his kisses.
And his closeness.
She felt the heat of desire coiling sinuously within her, lazily and languidly, like the smoke from burning incense. It flowed through her body, sapping her physical strength, her willpower, her desire to resist. She felt scorched by the pressure of his body against hers. Her breasts had become so tender the material of her dress felt rough against her nipples. But it was his knee, thrust between her legs, that most affected her. Never had her body felt like it did now.
She felt so alive, she thought she would jump out of her skin.
She'd never thought of herself as a sensual person. She'd been taught duty and decorum all her life. Love and sensuality were for the common people. In less than five minutes, Luke Attmore had been able to destroy both illusions. She didn't care that she had promised to marry another man. She could think only of the man who held her in his embrace, who ignited her body with his kisses.
She reveled in Luke's touch, in the feel of him pressed hard against her, in the wild sensations that whirled through her body as his lips scorched trails of liquid heat over her mouth, throat, shoulders. Nothing mattered any longer except
With paralyzing suddenness, Luke released her and stepped back. She stared at him, unable to comprehend why she should feel as she did-lost, abandoned, and terribly hurt.
"I never intended to hurt you," Luke said, his voice r
ough, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "I just wanted to show you everything is different now, that you can't go on living like you always have, that you can't depend on the same people and institutions to protect you.
He sounded as if he was giving a prepared speech. He looked as stiff and wooden as he had been hot and aggressive only seconds before.
"We'll start back immediately."
He walked away so quickly, Valeria expected to see him break into a run.
For a few moments she couldn't move. The shock that held her immobile was quickly succeeded by mortification. If Luke hadn't stopped at that very moment, she would have turned his lesson into something quite different. She even wanted to give in to him. She couldn't imagine how such a thing could have happened, how she, Valeria Badenberg, a princess of the royal blood, would willingly have allowed herself to be ravished on the ground like a common slut.
Cowboys 08 - Luke Page 14
