Tender Savage

by Iris Johansen

  “Naturally.”

  “The next morning Paco will escort you back to the United States and find you a house wherever you choose.”

  “By a lake,” she murmured.

  “If you wish.” He frowned. “I know you prefer a small town, but you’ll have to be close to good medical care.”

  “I’m sure Paco can find something that meets the requirements. Do you suppose he can also locate a suitable dog?”

  “You’re laughing at me.”

  “At least I’m no longer contemplating flushing your medal down the nearest toilet.”

  “You’ll accept the medal?”

  She rose to her feet. “Yes, I believe I’ll accept your Ribbon of Courage.”

  “And the house and—”

  “We’ll discuss that later. I’ll take it under advisement. Now, may I go to my room?” She glanced around the stiff grandeur of the sitting room. “I gather you don’t want me here.”

  Something flickered in his eyes. “Would you stay if I asked?”

  “Heavens no. I certainly wouldn’t want to interfere with all these intricate plans you’ve been hatching. Will I see you before the ball?”

  “I don’t think it would be wise.”

  “Oops!” She snapped her fingers. “I forgot for a moment. Discretion is the name of the game.”

  His gaze narrowed on her face. “Why aren’t you angry any longer?”

  “Understanding banishes anger.” A brilliant smile lit her face. “All you had to do was explain your position.”

  “And you’ll be reasonable?”

  “Very reasonable. What am I supposed to wear to this ball?”

  “I’ve had a gown made for you.”

  Her eyes widened. “Then you must have been planning this for a long time.”

  “Since the time we took the palacio.” He smiled faintly. “I would have brought you back here even if you hadn’t been pregnant. Saint Pierre owes you a debt and we pay our debts. I hope you find the gown to your satisfaction.”

  She lifted a brow. “Will it fit?”

  “It will fit. I gave the dressmaker the yellow robe you left behind. And if the gown needs to be let out, the seamstress here can do it.” He paused. “You looked very beautiful in that robe.”

  “Señora Sardona’s lovely hand-me-down. I liked it. I hope you got it back from the dressmaker.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t think you had any use for it.”

  “A woman can always use another robe.” She smothered a yawn. “Can one of these stalwart guards at the door show me my quarters? Paco woke me up at three A.M. and I can’t seem to get enough sleep these days.”

  “Yes.” As she moved away from him, he took an impulsive step forward. “But I’ll take you.”

  “Oh, no.” She gazed up at him limpidly as she opened the door. “We wouldn’t want to give the impression we’re more than friends.”

  She sailed through the doorway and shut the door quietly behind her.

  “You wanted to see me?” Paco asked as Lara opened the door of her suite at his knock.

  She nodded, then stepped aside to let him in. “I have a few questions to ask.”

  Wariness flickered in Paco’s expression. “I don’t know if I can answer them.”

  “For Pete’s sake, Paco, we’ve been through too much together for you to close up on me now. I need answers.”

  Paco didn’t reply. His glance fell to the floor.

  Lara drew a deep breath and then burst out, “Does he love me?”

  “How should I know?”

  Lara could see it was going to be like pulling teeth to get information from the man. “Has he ever talked about me?”

  “No.”

  Disappointment surged through her. “Never?”

  “Only to say you must be protected.”

  “Why did he send me away?”

  Paco didn’t answer.

  “That day of the sniper attack he changed toward me in the blink of an eyelash. Dammit, he must have said something to you on the way back to the caverns.”

  “No.” His gaze finally lifted to her face and he said reluctantly, “But he said something to Juan while he was bandaging his shoulder.”

  She held her breath.

  “He said, ‘The bullet went through my shoulder. An inch to the left and it would have blown Lara’s brains out.’”

  It was what she had suspected, what she had hoped for. Her breath escaped in a rush of air. “Thanks, Paco.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think it will do any good. He won’t admit it, and he won’t change his mind. He’s seen too many friends and loved ones die over the years. He won’t risk you.” He gently touched her cheek with his forefinger. “I’m sorry, Lara.”

  “I’m not. I’ve got a weapon to fight with now. Before I had nothing. I didn’t even know I had a battle to fight.”

  “Good luck.” Paco turned to leave the suite. “I hope you win your battle.”

  “I don’t see why I shouldn’t.” She grinned. “Haven’t you heard? I’m a genuine, medal-sporting heroine, and a heroine always carries the day.”

  NINE

  DEAR HEAVEN, SHE was nervous.

  Lara smoothed the wide silk skirts of her ball gown and tried to breathe slowly and deeply. It was all very well to talk big and exude confidence before the fact, but now that the moment of truth had arrived, she could feel her confidence eroding. Standing in the hall waiting to go into the ballroom to accept that damn medal didn’t make her any less upset.

  “You look very beautiful,” Paco said quietly in her ear. “The television cameramen will have a field day.”

  “It’s the gown.” The square-necked ball gown Ricardo’s dressmaker had created for her was fashioned of a magnificent pink silk embroidered in a delicate floral design with glittering golden bugle beads. “I feel like Princess Di.”

  “Don’t say that.” Paco made a face. “You’re a heroine of the Republic. We don’t recognize royalty here on Saint Pierre.”

  “I’d rather not be recognized at all. Can’t you go in and tell Ricardo I don’t want the blasted medal?”

  He shook his head. “You agreed to accept it. It will be over in just a few minutes. When your name is called, you and your escort cross the ballroom to the raised pedestal where Ricardo is standing and—”

  “My escort? Those two men who got medals didn’t have escorts.”

  “You’re a woman.”

  “I think we need a feminist organization down here.”

  “Ricardo thought you might be nervous.”

  “Who, me?” She shivered. “I’m scared to death.”

  Paco smiled. “Then he was right.”

  “He has a tiresome habit of being right—well, sometimes. Are you going to escort me?”

  “No, Ricardo has reserved that right for someone else. I have to meet a late arrival downstairs.”

  “If it’s not going to be you, I’d rather go it alone.”

  Paco shook his head. “You’ll feel quite comfortable with this escort.” The door to the ballroom opened and he turned. “Here he is now.”

  Manuel stood in the doorway, dressed in a full dress army uniform, his black shoes shined to a high luster no brighter than his eyes. “You don’t mind?” he asked Lara with quaint gravity. “It would be my very great honor to escort you.”

  Ricardo had done this. He had known how nervous Lara would feel and had sent the one person who would put her instantly at ease. She felt the tension leave her as she swept Manuel a curtsy and said gently as she took his arm, “And it would be my very great honor to accept your escort.”

  ——————

  The medal was a green, white, and scarlet ribbon embellished with a golden sunburst medallion.

  Ricardo slipped the ribbon over her head and then stepped back as the medallion nestled against the pink satin of her bodice. Flashbulbs went off somewhere in the background and she heard the click of camera shutters.

  �
�The government of Saint Pierre gives thanks for your service, and honors your courage.” Ricardo’s tone was formal, stilted, and Lara did not receive the warm smile he had awarded the other two honorees.

  She vaguely heard polite applause as she stepped off the raised pedestal and moved to the side to merge with the other guests at the ball. Ricardo immediately turned away and must have made some signal to indicate the awards ceremony was at an end, for the orchestra began to play again. “You did very well,” Manuel said solemnly. “I was afraid you’d trip on the hem of your gown as we crossed the ballroom.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t tell me before. I probably would have done just that.” She heard a buzz of conversation from the elegantly dressed people surrounding her and received a few tentative smiles. She smiled automatically in return before she turned away. Now that the ceremony was over, she only wanted to escape. “Find me a way out of—”

  “Quite a necklace. A little gaudy with that gown, but then you never did know how to coordinate an ensemble.”

  “Brett!” She whirled around to face her brother’s teasing grin.

  Paco stood behind Brett’s wheelchair, a broad smile on his face. “Our late arrival. I told you I’d let him know you had a good reason for going to Saint Pierre.”

  Lara flew across the few yards separating her from Brett’s wheelchair. “Are you okay? The trip wasn’t too much for you?”

  Brett grimaced. “The trip was fine. It was getting outfitted in these fancy duds that wore me out.” He waved his hand at the tuxedo he wore. “I hope you appreciate the sacrifice I made just to see you get that fancy piece of jewelry.”

  “I appreciate it.” Lara swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat. “They shouldn’t have given it to me. You’re the one who deserves it.”

  “I receive mine at the military ceremony next week. This is the glitz-and-glamour edition.”

  “Next week? You’re not going back to Barbados?”

  “I told you I was coming back to Saint Pierre. Paco found me a place in the hospital here. Afterward …” He shrugged. “Who knows?”

  “There’s always a place for you in Saint Pierre, Brett,” Paco said. “As soon as we get you well, we’ll find out where it is.”

  “Paco tells me you’re leaving for the United States tomorrow.” Brett smiled coaxingly at Lara. “I think it’s very unkind of you to run away just when I’ve arrived here. Why don’t you stick around and help ease your invalid brother in his hour of need?”

  “I might do that.” Lara lifted her gaze to meet Paco’s over Brett’s head. She smiled defiantly. “It would only be the sisterly thing to do; wouldn’t it, Paco?”

  “I understood it was most urgent you leave Saint Pierre at once,” Paco said without expression.

  “Did you?” Lara stepped behind Brett’s wheelchair. “Run along, Paco. I know you have zillions of things to do. Manuel and I will just take Brett over to the buffet to sample those luscious-looking crab hors d’oeuvres.”

  “Lara.” Paco’s tone was warning.

  Lara ignored him as she and Manuel swept Brett across the floor to the buffet table across the ballroom.

  She had forgotten about the two guards at the door of Ricardo’s suite.

  Dammit, why couldn’t one of them have been Pedro, who had guarded Ricardo’s quarters in the cavern? She could have used a break.

  She stopped, tightened the belt of her yellow velvet robe, and marched regally down the hall toward them. “Buenas tardes.”

  They both nodded politely.

  So far, so good. She smiled brightly as her hand went to the knob of the door.

  Two rifles immediately formed a menacing cross in front of her face.

  Wrong move. She smiled soothingly at them and knocked on the door instead of opening it. “Settle down. I’m not going to assassinate him. I just want—”

  The door was flung open and Ricardo faced her. He had removed his uniform jacket and tie and wore only his white shirt, formfitting uniform trousers, and shiny black boots. He stiffened. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Trying to avoid being shot by these kind gentlemen.” Lara gestured to the guards. “Maybe I should have worn my medal.”

  “It would have been a hell of a lot more discreet than that robe,” he said hoarsely as his gaze traveled over her. “You’re ruining everything, dammit.”

  “Are you going to let me come in or are we going to argue in front of the—”

  He grasped her arm and pulled her into the sitting room before she could finish the sentence. He slammed the door and whirled her around to face him. “I can’t believe you did this. The palacio is still crawling with reporters. If anyone saw you, it could be in every tabloid in the world by morning.”

  “The guards saw me.”

  “I can take care of them. They won’t speak or I’ll—”

  “Have their tongues cut out?” Lara clucked reprovingly. “I’ve heard power corrupts. You’ve just been inaugurated and already you’re becoming as oppressive as the junta.”

  “My men are loyal to me. I wouldn’t have to threaten them.”

  “But you probably would. You look very intimidating right now. I do believe you’re letting emotion rule you.” She grinned. “And, personally, I’m all for it.” She took a step toward him and began to unbutton his white shirt. “I’m very tired of that formidable control of yours. It’s getting in my way.”

  He looked down at her fingers undoing the buttons. “What are you doing?” he asked thickly.

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’m undressing you.” She frowned. “And these little buttons are the devil. If you’d like to return the favor, I assure you that you won’t have the same problem. I’m not wearing anything beneath the robe.”

  “I know.” His gaze fastened on the clear delineation of her nipples pressing against the velvet and he unconsciously moistened his lower lip with his tongue. “What the hell are you trying to do to me?”

  “Seduce you.” She cast a glance at his lower body. “And, judging by appearances, I think I’m doing rather well.” She parted the edges of his shirt, and her hands reached in to tangle with the hair on his chest. “Don’t you?”

  A shudder went through him.

  She bent her head and her tongue licked delicately at the small hard nipple half covered by the dark springy thatch.

  “Lord.” The exclamation was a half-inaudible groan. He reached out and grasped her shoulders and began to draw her toward him. Then he stopped, his hands tightened painfully, and he pushed her away. “No.”

  “Yes.” She swallowed. She had hoped it wouldn’t be this difficult. She didn’t know how to go about seducing a man. When they had come together before, it had always been a natural merging of passion, with both of them contributing equally to the fire. “You want it. I want it. Let it happen.”

  “I can’t let it happen. I’m not an animal. I’m a thinking human being who is responsible for his actions.” His hands closed into fists at his sides. “Why are you here?”

  “Because I hate to lose.”

  “To stay here is the surest way to lose.”

  She would certainly lose if she stood and argued with him. It would be better to get him to physically commit before words got in the way. “I don’t agree.” She stepped closer to him and rubbed against him, letting him feel the sensuous flow of velvet and warm flesh.

  He gasped and shuddered again.

  She didn’t know how long she could go on. She was beginning to tremble herself. He was too close. It had been too long. She could feel a hot tingling between her thighs. “I’ve thought about it and decided I want to be el presidente’s mistress and have his covey of children after all.” She rubbed her cheek back and forth on his chest. “Will you give me another medal if I have twins? They run in the family, you know.”

  “Stop joking. I can’t do—” He broke off as her hand slid slowly beneath his waistband and down his muscular belly. “Lara, be sensible.”

 
“I can’t be sensible.” Her voice was muffled against his chest. “I love you.”

  He went still.

  “You never let me say it, but I think you knew that day at the lake.”

  He drew a deep, harsh breath. “And what am I supposed to do about it?”

  “You’re supposed to make love to me so I won’t feel like such a klutz standing here making the most important confession of my life.”

  “I can’t tell you I love—”

  “I said make love,” she said fiercely as she looked up at him with tear-bright eyes. “I don’t want words. All I want is tonight. One night, dammit. Is that too much to ask?”

  He hesitated before a brilliant smile lit his dark face with tender radiance. “Then I’ll give you what you want.” He lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom. “You won’t lose tonight, querida.” He laid her gently on the enormous bed, shrugged out of his shirt, and lay down beside her. “And neither will I.”

  “Where did you get the robe?” Ricardo asked idly as he brushed a kiss on her cheek. “I gave it to the dressmaker for sizing.”

  “I went into town after it.” She lifted herself on her elbow and looked down at him. “I thought I’d need every bit of seductive power I could muster to get the great liberator to take me to bed.” She grinned. “You were easier than I thought you’d be.”

  He stiffened. “Not so easy. I only promised you one night.”

  “I lied. I want the whole ball game.”

  “We can’t have it.”

  “Sure we can. You just have to give us a chance.”

  “We’ve had our chance. In the morning you leave with Paco for the United States.”

  “The devil I do.”

  He gazed up at her. “Tonight meant nothing of importance. I don’t want you as my mistress and I don’t love you, Lara.”

  His expression was sincere, his words ringing with truth, and for an instant Lara believed him. Then she remembered his voice echoing over and over behind her as Jurado’s whip had lashed her.

  She means nothing to me.

  He had lied to Jurado; now he was lying to her and for the same reason. He had become a master at hiding his emotions over the years and he had almost deceived her, as he had that day of the sniper attack. She would not let him bluff her into giving up so easily this time.