The Ortiga Marriage

by Patricia Wilson

  "I'll come." The two words seemed to open all the valves of her tears, all the little fears she had carried in her head for days, all the pent-up emotion about her feelings for Ramon, all the deep misgivings flooded to the surface and eased themselves in tears she could not hide from her father.

  "Meriel! Why are you crying? My dearest child, you surely thought that I'd come? Did you expect me to say no?"

  "I thought—thought you might not because—I— mean…'

  "Because of Inez?" His voice was gentle and quiet. "It was so long ago, Meriel, and I'm sorry she died. After all, she gave me you even if now because she took you out to Venezuela I seem to be losing you."

  "You'll never lose me, Daddy!" Meriel's voice was urgent and quick even through her tears and she heard his laughter from so many miles away.

  "Love is not selfish, Meriel," he assured her. "In any case, I win. One day I'll have grandchildren, won't I?"

  Yes. Ramon had said that he needed an heir. Once again, the links with the distant past came clearly to her mind. It seemed so cold-blooded. These days people married for love, not to produce an heir, but here, in this house, things seemed sometimes to have advanced very little from the old formalities of days long past.

  Her next call was to Stewart and once again, he was not there, not able to be contacted even though they knew perfectly well who was calling. Clearly then nobody knew where he was. Having discovered that she was not going to return, he had simply gone away and made no further attempt to contact her. She felt somehow let down, betrayed. For two years Stewart had been urging her to marry him and now he had simply crossed her off. So many times in her life she had been dismissed and now, here in this house with the painful past around her, it was easy to feel as she had done so many years ago, an outsider of no consequence, lost and alone. She suddenly needed Ramon with a feeling that was akin to desperation. He was something to cling to, had always been her rock and refuge. Even if he was not in love with her as she was with him, there was a sort of love there, she was sure of that, even if it was only an affection. Her lingering doubts about the marriage fled and she would have told him honestly if he had been there at that moment.

  Meriel was amused at the subtle change in the attitude of the servants over the next two days. From being an oddity and then an infrequent visitor she had now become in their eyes the mistress of the house. Only Rosita remained the same. The riders too that she saw from time to time as they came into the stables and their quarters that stretched beyond the confines of the gardens of the house greeted her with a new deference, a shy and subdued attitude that was clear in the quick lowering of their bold eyes as they saw her. Senor Ortiga had chosen his bride and henceforth her position was an honoured one.

  He phoned during the second day, the only time he had contacted her, and she was careful to show no eagerness as she answered. Her heart was beating like a hammer merely at the sound of his voice and she had to make two attempts to say hello.

  "You are all right, Meriel?" he asked quickly. "There is nothing wrong?"

  "No, why should there be? Everything is going along smoothly. Manuel is with his teacher and everyone is going about their normal business."

  "And you? What are you doing?" There was a deep softness in his voice that brought a quick flush to her face and she was glad that nobody could see her.

  "Nothing of importance. I've telephoned my father."

  "And?" She felt rather than heard the sudden stillness in him.

  "He'll come to the wedding. I'll make arrangements when we know the—the date."

  She heard his quiet laughter, the stiffness leaving his voice as he said, "Even over the telephone your shyness is apparent. How can you be shy with me? We have known each other for so long, have been friends for most of your life."

  "Were we friends, Ramon?" she asked a little wistfully. "I don't remember feeling the same about you that I would think one would feel about a friend. You were always so— so cool."

  "Cool? Yes, perhaps, but there has always been much between us, do not attempt to deny that, Meriel. It was a strange destiny that brought you into my life and a great tragedy that forced you to return."

  "If there had been no accident then I would never have come back," she reminded him quietly. "I suppose then that I would never have seen you again. My life was going along a different path."

  "Towards Mackensie!" he stated harshly. "He has been in touch with you?"

  "No. I rang but he's not even in contact with the office, I don't know where he is." There was a note of anger in his voice when he spoke of Stewart and she wished the conversation had taken a different turn. "I'd better write and confirm my resignation."

  Yes. I'll be back either late tonight or in the morning. I have to call first and see the Sandovals."

  "Consuelo?" Her hand gripped the telephone convulsively as she asked and it was impossible to keep the sharp anxiety out of her voice.

  "I expect that she will be there, yes. It is however her father that concerns me at the moment." His voice was edged with laughter again when he continued, "I am permitted to address a few words to her if she is there? You are not too jealous, pequena?

  "I'm not jealous at all, why should I be? We're marrying because—because it's convenient and sensible. We're not in love. I wouldn't want to clip your wings in any way, Ramon."

  "How very generous and modern," he murmured with soft derision. "What a very accommodating partner you are going to be." He waited for her reply but she said nothing, she couldn't. She had never been able to cope with Ramon as he was now, and loving him so desperately had left her utterly defenceless.

  "The Sandovals have a problem," he told her when it became clear that she would stand there in silence until he spoke again. "I doubt if I can help but I must at least attempt to help." There was a changed tone to his voice, a sudden caressing note that held her spellbound. "You have no cause for jealousy, I want only you. I think that I am probably annoyed that you are not jealous, but again, I know you too well to imagine that you would calmly allow me to go on seeing other women. As I am impatient to get back to you and make sure that you do not fly from me, you may be assured that my visit to the home of Consuelo will be short and businesslike."

  The tone of his voice warmed her for the rest of the day, and even though he did not come that night Meriel went to bed with a sort of blissful contentment flowing through her veins and fell into a deep sleep.

  It was after twelve when she awoke with a start to hear the reverberating sound of thunder lingering in the air, knowing that it was some great crash of sound that had awakened her, and she was instantly on guard, her feet out of bed as if prepared for flight although there was, nowhere to run to and she knew it.

  It came again, a mighty crash of sound that seemed to shake the whole house and then roll around the walls for ages, the lightning filling the whole room. She felt for the lamp switch beside her bed, gasping in fright and beginning to shake when she discovered that there was no power. It was not unusual, she knew, and though the emergency generator would soon take up the load for the moment she was alone, in the darkness, facing the storm with almost as much fear as she had faced the jaguar, in spite of Ramon's boastful statement on her behalf.

  She ran to the window to pull the curtains even closer together and this was the moment that the biggest crash of thunder chose to make itself felt. It seemed to be coming in at the window, seemed to be in the room beside her and she ran for the door, sobbing with fear, straight into arms that grasped her and held her close. A scream bubbled up in her throat but it was never heard because a hand, firm and gentle, came across her mouth, adding to her fear, making her struggle wildly in a mindless panic.

  "It's all right. Meriel. I am here. There is nothing to worry about, nothing to be afraid of." Ramon's voice, deep and reassuring, steadied her and she buried her face in the hard warmth of his shoulder, hiding from the brilliant lightning that seemed to tear through the room.

  "I k
now, I know, but it doesn't help at all. Logic is wasted on me when there's a storm."

  "I know that," he soothed quietly. "I also know that to tell you to get into bed and try to sleep is a waste of time."

  She nodded silently, burrowing against him, her eyes tightly shut.

  "Manuel!" she asked suddenly, looking up and finding that it was too dark to see his face.

  "Asleep. I was just about to check the emergency generator when the biggest crash came. I had already found to my surprise that you were still asleep. I didn't expect you to sleep through that, though. Manuel is not at all like you, he loves the violence of a storm."

  "I wish the lights were on," she whispered, certain that she had to be quiet in case the sound of her voice drew the storm's ferocity down upon her.

  "I will look at the generator," he whispered back, laughter in his voice. "You will be safe for a few minutes. Sit on the bed."

  He would have to go to the far end of the house, she knew that, the part furthest away from her, and for the moment she stood exactly as he had left her, but the window drew her like a magnet.

  For the moment there was only the sound of the rain and she relaxed a little. Often the storms passed with the same speed as they had arrived, and perhaps now it was going away, rolling back to the mountains.

  She peered through the curtains and saw that the night was no longer completely black. The sky was lighter as if the moon was coming to scatter the storm clouds and bring tranquillity. Not yet though. The biggest bolt of lightning she had ever seen shot down to the earth, the thunder crashing at the same time. It seemed to be almost in the garden and this time she screamed, beginning to sob with fear even when Ramon's arms again found her and held her close.

  "The generator is not working for some reason," he said in the sort of matter-of-fact voice he reserved for these occasions. "Manuel is still asleep and everything is all right. The storm is passing. Look out of the window, Meriel."

  "No!" She clung to him as hard as she could but he persisted, leaning over to open the curtains and turn her to a view of the night sky.

  "Look! The clouds are lifting and there is the moon. It is over. The storm has passed."

  "You know it sometimes comes back," she said, backing close to him, trembling still. "It often does. It rolls round the mountains and then sweeps back."

  "What does it matter?" he asked softly. "I am here and I will not leave you."

  "I didn't know you were back," she whispered. She could see the moon making its way across the night sky, the clouds parting to allow it passage, and the light began to penetrate the room, bathing the area around the window in soft light.

  "I decided to fly in late," he said, his hands warm on her chilled shoulders. "I just beat the storm. Tomorrow the plane must be moved because soon the lower airstrip will be useless to us. It is time that the cattle were moved higher too. I shall be busy." His hands were beginning to mould her shoulders, almost absent-mindedly as if he had no real idea that he was caressing her as they both looked out across the moonlit garden, and it was only natural to move closer to him, to feel the warmth of him pressed close to her body.

  "Are you cold?" Ramon's voice was almost in her ear as he bent his head to speak. His breath was warm against the side of her face and her skin tingled where the heat of his breath fanned her cheek. "You are still shivering." His lips moved to her hair and he rubbed his face against the silken gleam of it, his action tender, making her catch her breath on a small whisper of sound.

  "I—I know… I'm not cold though, at least, I don't feel it. I'm probably still frightened."

  "The storm is over. What is frightening you now?"

  She shook her head, unable to answer, filled with a kind of exhilaration after the passing of her fear, and with the feel of his hands as they slid up her arms to find her shoulders again and urge her to greater contact. A feeling of wild excitement filled her that she had found him here in the darkness, gentle and caring, a deep quiet about him that frightened and thrilled her both at the same time. A slowly growing heat was seeping through every cell of her body and she was so attuned to him that she could almost hear his inner thoughts, could feel the waiting in him, knew that there was a trembling inside him to match her own.

  She let all her deepest feminine instincts take her in control, feeling free as she had never before felt in her life, relaxing against him completely, her head resting back against his shoulder.

  "Meriel!" He breathed her name against her skin, his lips trailing along her cheek as his hands moved to her hips, holding her tightly, moving her against him with an almost savage, primitive movement, his breath a shuddering sigh against the smooth arch of her neck.

  "You are dangerous in the moonlight, you little witch," he groaned. "I feel as I felt that night in the moonlight so long ago, ready to devour you, and you were afraid."

  "Yes." Her whisper trembled from her lips as she softened to his hardness.

  "You know what you are doing to me," he accused thickly, his hands moving with slow caress to the fullness of breasts that surged to the warmth of his palms. "I have taken care of you, protected you all your life in this house."

  It was a plea for her to move away as if he were incapable of breaking the contact himself, and a surge of feeling shot through her at the power she held over this dark, strong man whose hands trembled with desire.

  "You can't protect me from myself," she whispered, her lips turning to the taut column of his neck, her mouth open as she discovered the heat of his skin.

  "And if I cannot resist your temptation? If I do not want to resist the slender, warm body in my arms, what then, my beautiful Meriel? Tomorrow you will be mine in no uncertain way, tonight I will not leave you unless you send me away. I cannot stay here and touch you. I want more and your chance to send me away aching and empty is fast receding." He slid his hands from her breasts down the smooth shape of her to the curve of her thighs, his touch strong and demanding, back to her waist and across the warm curve below, pressing her close. "I want you," he breathed huskily. "Send me away."

  She turned in his arms, searching for his lips, wrapping her slim arms around his neck, sliding her fingers into the crisp blackness of his hair, stroking the strength of his tight shoulders beneath the silken white of his shirt, and his control snapped like a wire that has been stretched beyond its limits as he claimed her mouth, covering her lips with small hungry kisses, his breathing a harsh sound in his throat.

  Time lost its meaning as they stood locked together, moving like shadows in an erotic moonlit dance, each eager to touch the other, neither of them prepared to move even a fraction of an inch away, a raging need to become fused together that each acknowledged silently holding them in a swaying, moving rhythm of passion.

  Meriel shivered as her night-dress slid to the carpet and his arms closed tightly around her again, lifting her lightly against him as he carried her across the moonlit room.

  "Let me warm you, my sweet, beautiful Meriel," he murmured against her lips. "Let me love you until we are both on fire."

  She clung to him as he placed her on the bed, refusing to be parted, her hands desperately helping as he undressed, a sharp gasp of pleasure leaving her lips as she felt at last the strong naked length of his body against her own, his arms strong and secure holding her against him.

  "Oh, I have longed for you," he whispered thickly. "I have dreamed of you like this in my arms for such a long, empty time. I have wanted you and resisted you for as long as I can remember, since you were a shy and uncertain teenager. I have watched you grow and felt my pride and sanity slowly fading at the sight of you, afraid that something would happen to take you away from me, ashamed of my hunger for you."

  His lips trailed fire over her skin as she lay unresisting and warm in his arms, her own hands discovering places that brought shivers of pleasure to his body.

  "You witch," he whispered. "You are smiling at me like a siren in the moonlight, beckoning me with your eyes and y
our lips, with your soft eager arms. You may bless the fact that you were shy and afraid for so long or I would have owned you years ago."

  "I wanted you to own me," she whispered against his shoulder, her teeth biting into his strong muscles with tiny nipping bites.

  "You were afraid," he murmured, "and I was too well schooled in protecting you to do anything but draw back. Nothing will protect you tonight, my beautiful nymph."

  With a hungry movement he found the hardened peaks of her breasts, darkened in the moonlight, lifting her to his searching lips and claiming them sensuously until she cried out in pain and pleasure, her body surging against his to be caught and held in bondage as he ravaged her with kisses, his strong hands finding all the secret places of pleasure, urging her on and slowing her down until she sobbed out her frustration against his demanding lips.

  "I have waited for this, dreamed of this," he muttered against her skin. "Would you have it all ended swiftly? Would you have us fly into heaven and then return to earth?"

  She locked her fingers behind his head, straining to find his mouth, her body arched and pleading, strange, despairing little cries on her lips that seemed to be coming from her with no thought behind them, only a need that hurt and ached, a fire that needed quenching now.

  "You are glowing with beauty, alive with desire," he breathed, his voice harsh and unsteady as he looked down at her with burning eyes. Her own eyes closed before the heat in his and she whispered his name in a sobbing plea.

  "Ramon! Ramon!" Her body twisted frantically and he moved, his weight pressing her into the softness of the bed, his hands lifting her to him at last.

  "Now, my sweet darling," he breathed, tenderness in the harsh voice. "Now I will make you whole and alive. Now you are mine."

  She cried aloud at the driving energy that possessed her, shuddering in ecstasy as the brief pain passed and warmth flooded her as he moved within her, his lips breathing her name as they fused with hers, his body moving with a new rhythm as they swiftly ascended to the heaven he had promised, until she tore her lips free to cry out his name in gladness.