Loving Lies

by Tina Donahue

  “No, no, no.” She smacked his calf. “Lower your legs.”

  He gulped more air. “Never. I want your belly, nothing else.”

  “In time.” She took him fully within her mouth, arousing him further, preparing him for her sheath. As his fatigue receded once more and his member grew rigid, she released him.

  Fernando made a noise of protest. “Why did you stop? What are you doing?”

  “I await your obedience to my will.”

  He looked reluctant to give her even a moment of compliance.

  She smiled. “So I may take you deeply within my belly.” She sobered. “Lower your legs. Do so now.”

  At length, he did. His frown remained until Isabella straddled him, held his hard shaft in her hand, and took him inside, sliding her channel over his stunning length.

  He lifted his chin to the ceiling, the prominent ridge in his throat bobbing with his hard swallow.

  On a debauched sigh, she pushed up until her sheath was almost free of his shaft then lowered herself until their bodies touched again, loving how he filled her nearly beyond endurance. He murmured something in Arabic. Repeatedly, she stroked his flesh with hers, time slipping away, the world softening, giving them its best. No more troubles or sorrow. Only this.

  He tried to hold off, face reddened, shoulders bunching, head turning from side to side. She quickened her pace. He shouted his joy…the same as she did upon reaching her peak.

  Exhausted, she sagged against him, smiling as he rested his arm across her back. His limb was quite heavy, but she willingly accepted the burden. “I love you.”

  “And I, you.” He kissed her temple. “For all time.”

  He loved her at this moment and would love her on the morrow, perhaps even the next day and the next, until he learned the truth. Again, the future intruded, telling Isabella what she’d tried so hard to forget. They had this moment and wouldn’t have more. Squeezing her lids, she clung to him. “I never want to quit this place.”

  Once Fernando finished his yawn, he chuckled. “Wait till the sun reveals its shortcomings. I may have to tie you down to keep you from racing to your papá’s castle.”

  She didn’t comment.

  He was quiet a moment. “Have you fallen asleep?”

  She kept her eyes closed and forced her breathing to remain steady, waiting for him to drift off.

  In one swift motion, he rolled them over until he was on top, surprisingly alert. “So you are awake.”

  “Only because you awakened me.”

  “Liar.”

  “Fernando, please.” She struggled against him, but he wouldn’t release her.

  “Why are you afraid to return to your papá’s castle?”

  Her cheeks stung with heat. She turned her face away.

  "Why did you resist me until now?”

  “Why do you always question me?”

  He rolled off her and reached for his clothing.

  She pushed to a sitting position. “What are you doing?”

  He pulled his shirt over his head. “We must quit this place.”

  “No.”

  He grabbed his braies and hose.

  “We should stay the night.” She had to stop him. “You need to rest.”

  “I need the truth, Isabella. If not from you then those at your papá’s castle.”

  “Please, Fernando.” She grabbed his arm to stop him from dressing. “Allow me this night with you.”

  “No. I need the truth.”

  “The truth is I love you. Surely I proved my feelings.”

  He threw his braies across the hut. “You did, though you’ve hardly answered my questions. At first, I believed you feared coupling with me because you’d lost your virginity.”

  She gaped, stunned beyond words.

  He fooled with his shirt, his manner uneasy. “I thought the man who ordered your abduction had seduced or raped you. Clearly, he had not. Yet you forced me to wait until now to have what was already mine.” He paced to the right, the left, stopping finally. “Your passion speaks of a woman who can hardly resist my attention, yet you did.”

  Isabella had no excuse except for the truth she couldn’t reveal.

  “You shared this night with me. You delivered your virginity, claiming you would perish if I might die, but—”

  “It was no claim. What I told you was the truth.”

  “A partial truth. I need to know everything.”

  She wrung her hands. “You have no idea how I came to be in Granada.”

  “Tell me how you did, unless you want me to find out on my own. Go on.”

  How could she when it would end everything between them? She didn’t have the courage or the choice to do anything except forestall the inevitable.

  At last, she had to admit the only thing she could. “I never expected you to love me.”

  * * * *

  He had anticipated every confession except what she’d said. “What choice did I have except to love you? From the outset you bewitched me.”

  She covered her eyes with her hands.

  Fernando was at a loss. He needed the truth, not despair. He wanted to pull her into his embrace but resisted and waited, desperate to know what secrets she had.

  Breathing hard, she seemed to fight an inner battle he couldn’t begin to comprehend and finally shook her head. “I never expected to love you.”

  He made a face, not only surprised but also offended. “What choice did you have? What choice did I give you?”

  She smiled briefly at his boast then trembled as she wept.

  Outside, the wind rushed past and insects chirped. In here, her hitching sobs mingled with the cracking of the fire.

  His heart clenched. He’d demanded the truth, and now when she was ready to reveal everything, he wanted to run.

  Her shoulders shook. “Please forgive me.”

  “There’s naught to forgive.”

  “There is too much.” She dropped her hand, her expression more terrified than when she’d felled the puto.

  Fernando wanted to change the subject, to leave, to do anything except be here, but couldn’t. “What is it? Tell me.”

  “I can never return to my papá’s castle.”

  “What do you mean? Why not?”

  “My uncle wants me dead.”

  Chapter 12

  Fernando stared as though she’d spoken a language he didn’t understand or she’d offered another lie, this one so outrageous her words defied belief.

  What faint hope Isabella had nurtured disappeared quickly. She had prayed he’d believe her and his love would convince him to forego the journey. Instead, he’d continue to her papá’s castle and ask the servants what happened. No other outcome was possible.

  “Why did you wait until now to tell me?” He stepped closer. “Why not tell me the moment I rescued you?”

  “Would you have believed me at the time any more than you do now?”

  He hunkered down at her side. “I saw your courage in the slave market. Once I rescued you, I saw your fear when you should have felt safe. I see the same fear now.”

  “You believe what I say?”

  “I believe you feel your safety is still at stake.”

  “And yours.”

  “Mine? Why?”

  “Because you stand between my uncle and what he intends to have. He killed Papá and then he murdered Mamá, making one death appear to be an accident and the other an act of nature.”

  “What? You have proof of this?”

  “If I did, the authorities would have dealt with my uncle. No, I have no proof. In my heart I know his crimes.”

  “And you waited until now to tell me? Why? Because our goal is close at hand or is there more to this? No more lies, Isabella. I demand a full account of why you told me nothing the moment we escaped Granada.”

  “How could I? At the time I thought my uncle had sent you to…to…” She couldn’t conti
nue and tell him the full truth. That she’d thought her uncle had learned his agents had abducted the wrong niece and wanted Isabella returned so he might torture her into revealing Sancha’s whereabouts, after which he’d murder them both.

  “Why did you stop?” He regarded her warily. “I want to know everything. Go on.”

  Isabella didn’t have the courage. She craved a future with him, no matter how unlikely. If only she could convince him not to return to her papá’s castle. The only way for her to do so was to lie. “I thought you were his agent sent to finish me off.”

  His scowl deepened.

  “The abduction was supposed to be the end, not the beginning.” A partial truth before she had to lace her explanation with more lies. “My uncle wanted me dead. When his agents sold me to the slaver, rather than finishing me off, I thought he had sent you to accomplish what they had not.”

  “You believed as much when you asked if the orange I offered was drugged.”

  “Sí.”

  “Drugged, not poisoned?”

  Her pulse jumped. She forced herself not to react. “If your intent was to rape and kill me, drugging my food would have made the rape much easier, no?”

  “You were convinced I meant you harm until I proved who I was.”

  “Sí.”

  “Yet once I had, you still withheld the truth and tried to delay the journey. Was this the deception you spoke of as I slept?”

  “I had no choice. I feared you would never believe me.” She held his gaze, her manner challenging him as he was always doing with her. “You know the truth now. Do you believe me?”

  “I believe you think your uncle means you harm.”

  “Not think, know.” She smacked her fist into her palm. “He has no solar conocido.” No known estate. “My papá was the firstborn son. Primogeniture ensured he inherited wealth my uncle would never have. Unlike you, my uncle never made his mark as a caballero. The man is lazy, a skilled manipulator, and ruthless, even though my papá graciously saw to his every need. For Don Rodrigo it was barely adequate. He wanted more and still more. Finally, Papá grew weary of his endless demands and told my uncle, ‘Enough.’ After they argued, Don Rodrigo strove to have it all. He lay in wait and felled Papá when they were hunting wild boars. My father’s death was ruled an accident, but I knew the truth. Mamá knew the truth.”

  Isabella lowered her face and breathed hard to stave off tears. “Soon after Papá was buried, Don Rodrigo tried to seduce Mamá. He wanted to wed her to control the estate, but she resisted. I heard them argue. She asked what happened during the hunt. My uncle assured her he tried to save Papá before the animals tore him apart. He begged her to believe him. She ordered him out of the castle. He left, though a short time later, Mamá fell ill. Never had she been so sick and frail, not a day in her life. Everyone believed it was the fever, but I know someone had worked in concert with my uncle to poison her. Soon after her death, Don Rodrigo returned to the castle and began to use Papá’s properties and wealth as he saw fit. If I wanted to live, I had to escape.”

  “How? To where?”

  She panicked, searching for an acceptable answer short of the truth. “I decided to seek refuge at the convent. I told no one of my plans, yet Don Rodrigo still learned of them. I was on my way there, accompanied by servants who were faithful to me, when my retinue was set upon. My servants were killed, and I ended up in the marketplace.”

  “Where I rescued you, ensuring your safety against everyone, including him.”

  She bunched her shoulders. “As long as he breathes, there is no safety for either of us. Don Rodrigo will never allow you to sire an heir.”

  “How can he stop me?”

  “By killing you, Fernando.”

  “After the fact? You may already be with child. Have you forgotten our coupling?”

  “No.”

  “Nor have I.” He kissed her gently and eased away. “There is no reason to fear him any longer. Both of us are safe.”

  She shook her head.

  “We are.” He offered a smile. “The puto will never best me.”

  “Not in hand-to-hand combat, but by waylaying you as he did my parents.”

  He laughed. “Not likely.”

  “Fernando, please, we can never—you can never go to my papá’s estate.”

  His smile faded. “What of your sisters? If your uncle believes the firstborn is gone forever, it puts the next in line and the others in danger, no?”

  “Have you forgotten my sisters are at court under the Queen’s tutelage, all except for—” Isabella stopped before she said Sancha’s name or revealed anything she’d regret. She looked past him at the hut’s entrance.

  He glanced over then turned back to her. “All except who?”

  She avoided his gaze. “Sancha.”

  “The learned one?”

  She nodded.

  “And where is Sancha?”

  She hesitated before telling him part of the truth. “At a neighboring estate. I warned her to be wary of our uncle. She knows he means us harm. Sancha wants to live out her days at the convent free of men and marriage.” She grasped his hand. “Promise me to honor her request. Never force her to do anything else.”

  * * * *

  Fernando promised nothing. Why would Don Rodrigo or anyone want to keep Sancha from a life of prayer? “Does she have a suitor who demands her hand in marriage?”

  Isabella turned away, though not before he caught fear and perhaps shame and sorrow in her eyes. Why? “Tell me.”

  She released his hand. “There is a man who would make his claim on her if given the chance. Sancha wants nothing of the union. It would kill her.” She curled her fingers into fists. “It would kill me if the marriage were to occur. I would take her place, trading my flesh for hers rather than witness any man using my sister against her will, forcing her to share her life with him when she could never feel love or desire. Give me your pledge it will never occur.”

  How could he refuse? Isabella was willing to lie with a man she found repugnant to save her sister from such a fate. Fernando had to wonder about such devotion, and if her love for him would ever compare to what she felt for Sancha. “You have it. Your sister will become a nun.”

  Isabella hugged him. “We need to make certain she arrives safely at the convent. We can send a missive to her benefactor warning him she needs the best protection, a whole group of men, during the journey. Afterward, we can flee to another part of Spain. The northern lands perhaps. Maybe Portugal or France. There, we could build a life. Tell me you agree.”

  How could he?

  She stopped embracing him and pushed back. “Are you going to force me to return? Are you going to put us in harm’s way?”

  “I would never risk your safety.”

  “What of yours?”

  “I can see to my own protection.”

  “We can never return. Why do you doubt me?”

  “I believe you, Isabella.”

  She seemed surprised and relieved until he put on his braies, hose, and ankle boots. “Are we leaving? Will we be fleeing to the north or to another land?”

  He tried to reason. “How can you expect us to flee? Neither of us has done anything wrong.”

  “Many an innocent has met with death because of another’s vile plans.”

  “All will be well.” After grabbing his weapons, he strode to the hut’s entrance.

  Isabella was quickly on her feet, joining him. “Where are you going?”

  “Nowhere far. I merely want to make certain everything is as it should be so you can sleep undisturbed.”

  “When you return will you sleep?”

  “I had my rest at the stream. Go on. Eat your fill of the bread and cheese. Drink what you will of the wine.”

  “Should I get dressed?”

  He cupped her breast and gently fondled the supple flesh, her heat streaming into him. “It may be best, if we have to depa
rt quickly.”

  “To go where?”

  “A village to the east. As we rest there I can make my plans.”

  “Will you share them with me?"

  “I swore to protect you. Do you doubt my resolve?”

  “Not if you also swear to protect yourself.”

  Fernando drew her nipple into his mouth. Her flesh was fragrant, she was so willing, he became unsteady with too much desire. After he’d sated himself, he straightened. “I have no plans to die.”

  She cradled the side of his face, drawing her thumb over his whiskered cheek. “Tell me what you do have planned.”

  “In due course.”

  * * * *

  Isabella feared Fernando had already decided what he was going to do.

  Despite his lack of sleep and their coupling, he was fully alert as he returned to the hut and ate his fill of the bread and cheese. She waited for him to drink the wine, but he didn’t, no doubt determined to stay awake.

  With a horrible future looming, she wanted only to sleep. After finishing the wine, she settled within his arms. The night passed peacefully. Morning came too swiftly.

  Despite her ardent caress, Fernando made no move to take her.

  “We must quit this place,” he said.

  During their ride, she kept straining to see past his shoulders. She rode behind him now, once more playing the role of his younger brother.

  Fernando finally twisted his torso and glanced at her. “What do you keep looking for?”

  Her papá’s castle and the end of her hope. Truth she couldn’t admit. “A place for you to rest. You refused to do so the last time we stopped.”

  He turned back to the path.

  She suppressed a sigh. “How soon will we reach the village and a place for you to sleep?”

  He studied the landscape before looking over again. “I am not fatigued.”

  Dark circles rimmed his beautiful eyes. “Very well, you are never fatigued. What about hunger, our need for food?”

  “You finished everything we had the last time we stopped. Have you forgotten?”

  “When will we find more? Where are we now? I see wheat to the right and groves of trees. Is this a latifundia?” A large, rural estate. “If so, who owns it?”