Her lover …
She lurched upward as the tension broke, shattering into a million shards of sensation.
“Ricardo!”
A guttural groan tore from him as his body convulsed and shudder after shudder racked through him. He collapsed against her, his heart thundering, his breath coming in gasps.
He was shaking and her arms instinctively closed maternally about him as he buried his face in her shoulder.
Her lover …
“It’s all right,” she murmured. “It’s all right, now.”
“Is it?” His muffled voice held a thread of desperation. “Then why can’t I get the hell off you? I want to stay here and …” He flexed within her with mindless hunger. “Dear heaven, but I want to stay here. This is what I’ve wanted from the minute I saw you.”
“When I was riding the palomino,” she said dreamily. No, that wasn’t right, that had only been Ricardo’s beautiful fantasy he had painted for her. She laughed huskily. “Do you know, I almost believed it?”
“So did I.” His hand smoothed her hair back from her temple. “Was it good for you, querida?”
“Yes. More than good. Beautiful.”
He bent forward. “Then may I show you more?” He kissed her shoulder. “I can’t seem to get enough of you. I’ll make you want it, I promise you.”
She already wanted him again, she realized with surprise. Maybe she was as wild as he had called her. No, that was the woman of the fantasy—a woman who lived in a casa with a red-tiled roof on a rancho with a clear blue lake and tall green grass waving in the breeze.
But the tingling heat flowing through her now was no fantasy. Her arms tightened around Ricardo’s shoulders as her legs wrapped around his hips. “Come to me,” she whispered. “Show me.”
Jurado and the guards came for her at midnight, giving her only time to draw on her gown before the guards pushed her toward the door.
Ricardo leapt from the cot. “Damn you, Jurado, you said you—”
“Compose yourself, Lázaro,” Jurado interrupted. “She won’t be hurt … yet. I quite enjoyed your little charade and I’m very pleased with you. However, I’m sure it will take a few more days to bring you to the point of no return. We just have to make sure you both weren’t playacting for my benefit as well as the woman’s. We have to examine her.”
“For God’s sake, you don’t have to put her through that. She isn’t—”
The slam of the door cut off his words and Ricardo was alone in the cell.
She would be frightened.
The thought made the bile rise in his throat. He couldn’t stand the thought of her alone and frightened with those greasy pigs touching her.
He wanted to kill someone.
He moved to the window and watched Lara walk across the courtyard toward the infirmary between the two guards.
Agony tore through him and he could feel the hot tears sting his eyes.
——————
Lara flew across the room toward him as soon as the cell door slammed behind her.
“I want to go back.” Tears ran down her cheeks as she came into his arms. “Ricardo …”
He held her close. “Lord, you’re cold.”
“I feel cold. I feel as if I’ll never get warm. The table was metal and there was a bare bulb burning above me.” The words tumbled feverishly as her arms closed fiercely around him. “It was ugly. Uglier than it was before.”
“Shh, I know.”
“Everything was ugly. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe without inhaling filth. I want to go back.”
He picked her up as if she were a small child and carried her toward the cot. She was shaking as if with a chill. “Back home to the United States?”
“No.” Her eyes closed as she nestled closer to him. “Why should I want to go there? I want to go back to the rancho.”
He stopped in midstride, looking down at her. She was almost in shock and who could blame her after all that had happened to her? “You can’t go—” He stopped. She had faced enough ugly reality for one day; a little fantasy could do her no harm. He sat down on the cot and held her on his lap, rocking her back and forth. “We are back at the rancho, Lara.”
She felt light and womanly in his arms and for an instant he felt a familiar stirring in his groin. No, not now. The last thing Lara needed now was sex. She only wanted escape from this sordidness. She wanted the feeling that she was safe and free.
“The tall grass by the lake,” she murmured, as if prompting him.
“We tied our horses to the cypress tree.” He stroked her hair gently. “You brought a picnic basket today and you’re laughing and telling me not to spread the red-checkered tablecloth on the anthill. There are water lilies floating on the lake and my Labrador is racing along the bank chasing a squirrel.”
“I remember the Labrador. You never told me his name.”
“Jaime.” His lips pressed against her temple and he felt the tenderness well up in him. “His name is Jaime and he loves you very much.”
“Does he?” She cuddled closer. She was silent a moment before whispering, “You must think I’m crazy. I know it’s not true, Ricardo. I just want it to be true for a little while. I need it to be true.”
“Then it is true. It’s all true. Close your eyes and you’ll see it.” His palm passed over her lids, closing them. “The sun is shining on your face and it’s making you drowsy. I’ll spread a blanket on the ground so you can nap before we go back to the rancho.”
“My father will catch us if you take me back.”
“No, have you forgotten? Our rancho. We’re married now. Two weeks ago, in the chapel in the village. You belong to me.”
Lara woke slowly, peacefully, her lids opening to see Ricardo’s face above her. He smiled. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
Sunlight streamed into the cell, touching his black hair with vibrant luster. How odd that she should feel this supreme contentment as she looked at him. It was as if they’d awakened together like this a thousand times before. “What time is it?”
Ricardo glanced at the sun streaming through the bars. “I’d judge it to be close to eight.”
Eight o’clock. After the shocks she’d undergone last night, she hadn’t expected to sleep this late. There wasn’t much time.
Lara quickly sat up and swung her feet to the floor as she ran her fingers nervously through her hair. Lord, she was frightened. What if something went wrong?
“What’s the matter?” Ricardo’s gaze narrowed on her face.
“What could be the matter?” she said softly. “You love me.”
Ricardo darted a glance at the microphone on the wall. “That was only pretense, Lara.”
“No.” Her tone was urgent. “I know you love me. How many times did you whisper it to me last night?”
“Lara, what the hell are you doing?”
“If you love me, you can’t let them hurt me.” Her voice rose hysterically. “You have to tell them what you know. You can’t let them touch me again. None of this is my fault.”
Ricardo sat up, his face suddenly pale. “I said nothing to you last night that couldn’t be said to a child I wished to comfort.”
“You lie.” Her voice was shrill. “Why are you lying to me? You said it was a secret between us that you loved me, that you would always love me. I don’t want them to hurt me. Tell them.”
Ricardo’s gaze desperately shifted to the microphone again. “I’m not lying. You were a good lay and I needed a woman. You mean nothing to me. Nothing.”
“Ricardo.” She tried to make her voice quaver. She didn’t have to try very hard; she was shivering as if with a chill. “I’ve made you angry. Don’t be angry with me. Just tell them what they want to know so they’ll let me go.”
Ricardo jumped to his feet and strode toward the window and looked out into the courtyard. He muttered a low curse. “Jurado’s coming. Mother of God, he’s coming. What the hell have you done?”
>
Lara sat back on the cot, trying to subdue the fear clutching at her. The plan had been put into motion and it was too late for regrets now. “What I had to do.”
Ricardo ran across the room and sent the microphone crashing to the floor before turning to face her. “Damn you, what the hell do you mean by all this?”
She met his gaze and answered quietly, “I didn’t want to lose and this was the only way to win. You were right. Renalto couldn’t have freed you from this cell block, but the interrogation room adjoins Jurado’s office. He can get to you there and run no danger from the machine gun on the roof. He said it was the only way.”
He gazed at her in disbelief. “My Lord, do you know what they’ll do to you?”
“There won’t be time. Renalto should be here any moment.”
“Damn you, why didn’t you tell me what you were planning?”
“Renalto said you wouldn’t let—”
The cell door was unlocked and thrown open.
Lara quickly closed her eyes and began making low, whimpering noises in her throat.
“She’s not a fit mate for you, Lázaro,” Jurado said in disgust. “She’s too weak. Look at her, moaning and hysterical, and we’ve scarcely touched her.”
“You’re right,” Ricardo said quickly. “She’s nothing to me, less than nothing.”
“Perhaps,” Jurado said. “But we all know your weakness for the helpless. Maybe you do care something for her. I think we’ll see if we can spark a response.” He moved across the room and grabbed Lara’s hair and jerked back her head. “Stop that moaning; it annoys me.”
She opened her eyes to see Jurado’s round, boyish face above her. “Please, don’t hurt me. Don’t let them touch me again, Ricardo.”
“No courage.” Jurado’s lips curled in disgust as he released her hair, turned, and strode from the cell. “Bring them both. We’ll try the whip first, I think.”
Lara’s glance flew to Ricardo.
He wasn’t looking at her, and his expression was flint-hard as the guards pushed him toward the door.
The lash struck Lara’s back, tearing through the cotton gauze of her gown.
Her spine arched and she strained against the leather manacles holding her upright. Was it the fifth or sixth blow?
“Well, Lázaro?”
Ricardo’s tone was expressionless. “Do what you wish. She means nothing to me.”
The whip struck again, harder.
Where was Renalto?
The whip struck again.
“She means nothing to me.”
How many times had he said those words? They seemed to be burning into her back with every searing stroke of the whip.
She couldn’t see any longer. The tears ran down her cheeks, blurring everything in the room.
“You might as well stop. Why should I speak? She’s just a woman who pleased me for a few hours.”
The whip struck again.
Her flesh was growing numb. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt at all soon.
The room was growing darker. The chatter of a machine gun … Shouts.
Did they really exist or had she imagined it? Jurado was screaming orders. Someone was freeing her from the leather manacles.
He shouldn’t have done that, she thought hazily. Didn’t he know she couldn’t stand alone?
Her legs buckled and she fell to her knees on the floor.
“Lara …”
It was Ricardo’s voice, but he sounded hoarse, strange.
She tried to lift her head to see his face.
It was too difficult; her neck felt odd, like a fragile stem that would snap if she tried to move it.
It didn’t matter. She probably couldn’t have seen him anyway. Everything was growing so dark.
She pitched forward as the darkness overwhelmed her.
FOUR
STALACTITES.
Beige-, peach-, and cream-colored stalactites hung down from the high ceiling above her like giant jagged icicles.
“It must be quite a shock waking up to this. You’re in the caverns.”
Her glance flickered to Paco Renalto’s face. She was lying on a pallet on a stone floor, she realized, and Renalto sat cross-legged on the floor beside her.
“The caverns?” She looked around her in bewilderment. She appeared to be in a small chamber of some sort, if you could call a naturally formed room in a cave a chamber. Three lanterns affixed to the craggy walls burned brightly in a valiant attempt to dispel the darkness. The room contained no furniture or comforts other than the pallet on which she was lying. She knew there was something she should remember about the caverns…. It was the password Renalto had given her to identify herself to Ricardo at the Abbey! Suddenly everything flowed back to her with overwhelming force. Ricardo, the Abbey, the lash striking her back.
“The caverns network these hills and we use them as an arms cache and primary base of operations,” Paco said quickly, his concerned gaze on her suddenly shadowed face. “How do you feel?”
“Lousy,” she whispered. “Ricardo?”
“Safe. He carried you here.”
“You were … late.”
“I know.” He grimaced and the expression made his puckish features look more elfin than before. “It took longer than we had thought to get rid of the perimeter guards and cut off the voltage of the fence. I’m sorry, Lara.”
She tried to smile. “I suppose it couldn’t be helped.”
“You’re more generous than Ricardo. He raved at me like a maniac. You were very brave, pequeña.”
She shook her head. “I was scared to death.”
“But Ricardo said you never cried out once while Jurado was having you whipped.”
“Why should I give him that satisfaction? I knew he wouldn’t stop, and it would have made it harder for Ricardo and me too.” She shifted and flinched as hot pain flashed through her back. “How badly did he hurt me?”
“There will be no permanent scarring, but you’ll be uncomfortable for a few days. Ricardo had the doctor dress and bandage your back as soon as we reached the caverns.”
“Jurado?”
“Still alive, unfortunately,” he said regretfully. “He slipped out of the interrogation room when we attacked and we had no time to search for him. We thought it best to get you and Ricardo safely away before reinforcements arrived from the cell block.”
“When can I get up?”
“As soon as you feel well enough.”
Lara carefully levered herself up on one elbow. Another hot flash of pain shivered down her spine and her head began to swim. “I think … I’ll wait awhile.”
“I thought you would.” Paco picked up a tin cup from the ground beside him. “Drink this.”
She took the cup and looked dubiously at the milky liquid it contained. “What is it?”
“Just a sleeping powder. It works very quickly and when you wake, you’ll feel much better.”
“I’ll drink to that.” She lifted the cup and drained it. The liquid possessed a vague fruity flavor that was not unpleasant. She handed him the cup and carefully turned over on her stomach as she lay back down. “Where’s Ricardo?”
“In the war room planning the campaign.”
She smothered a yawn with her hand. “Already?”
“It could be the last campaign of the war. We’ve only been waiting for Ricardo to lead us.”
More war, more violence, and Ricardo in the thick of it. She felt a cold sickness in the pit of her stomach. Hadn’t he been through enough for his glorious revolution? A sudden memory of Ricardo’s expression as Jurado had taken them both from the cell block came back to her. “He’s angry with me.”
“Yes, he’s angry with both of us. I told you he would be.” Paco stood up and looked down at her. “But you did well, Lara.”
“Did I?” Her eyes were irresistibly closing as sleep once again claimed her. “It was all like a bad dream. I felt so helpless….”
When Lara awoke some time later, she wa
s alone and had no idea how long she had slept. The flames of the lanterns fastened to the craggy stone walls still burned brightly, but she had slept so soundly, she knew she wouldn’t have awakened if someone had come in a dozen times to refill them.
She sat up slowly, gingerly, and experienced a rush of relief. Movement was still painful but at least tolerable now. She tossed aside the blanket and started to stand up.
“Wait, I’ll help you.”
A curly-haired boy of eight or nine appeared in the arched opening across the chamber and hurried toward her. He was dressed in the same green army fatigues as the other soldiers she had seen, but they swamped his small body. His brow was wrinkled with concern as he took her arm and helped her to her feet. “You mustn’t move too quickly or you’ll open the wounds, and Ricardo will be angry with me.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Manuel Delguero. I take care of you.”
The words were spoken with such quaint gravity, she found herself smiling at him. “Oh, you do?”
He nodded. “It’s a great honor. Ricardo said that someday the people of Saint Pierre will tell tales around the camp fires of how bravely you came to the Abbey to rescue him.”
She blinked. “Somehow I doubt that.”
He frowned fiercely. “Ricardo said so.”
And evidently what Ricardo said was law to the boy. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you; I take care of you.”
“No, I mean here in the caverns. Where are your parents?”
“Dead.” His voice was without inflection. “Everyone is dead. The junta’s army killed them and Ricardo brought me to the caverns to live.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, I don’t remember them. I was only a baby.”
He was little more than a baby now, Lara thought with compassion. “And you live here in the caverns?”
He nodded. “For a while I lived with María in a nearby village, but three years ago Ricardo sent Paco to bring us here. María helps the doctor.” His voice was proud. “And I help Ricardo. He said he needed me at his side.”
The children following the Pied Piper, she thought with a bittersweet pang. “But didn’t you like living in the village more than here?”
Tender Savage Page 6
