Sweet Savage Love

by Rosemary Rogers

  Steve Morgan did not arrive at his grandfather’s hacienda until the very day of Don José Sandoval’s name day fiesta, and by that time Dona Maria had transformed Don Francisco’s normally quiet and orderly household into a state of perpetual hubbub.

  She had taken over the running of the house immediately, and there were servants constantly scurrying here and there carrying out her orders. Every room must be cleaned from top to bottom—the floors freshly waxed, the furniture moved around. And she insisted on taking Ginny in hand, as she termed it. Every one of her new gowns had to be critically examined for even the slightest flaws, she must spend less time reading, and more time learning how to run a large household. She must wear more jewelry, she must have her hair arranged more elaborately.

  Don Francisco took to locking himself in his study with his accounts—even Renaldo, quite unnerved by his mother’s presence and her constant carping, came less often to the big house.

  Ginny felt completely helpless, but in some strange way almost relieved to have the responsibility for planning her days taken from her. Dona Maria gave her hardly any time to be alone with her thoughts, although by the time Steve finally decided to turn up Ginny felt she had heard his name so often, mentioned always in a disapproving tone of voice, that she would go mad if she heard it again.

  She felt nothing but a coldness inside her—a coldness born of a combination of anger and despair—when one of her maids burst into her bedroom, panting, with her eyes big with excitement.

  “He’s back! Don Esteban has returned at last!” Remembering her manners the girl dropped a kind of abrupt curtsey. “Dona Genia—he’ll be here to see you soon, I’m sure! He’s with el patrón, in his study now. May I help you to change your dress?”

  Ginny found herself retorting more sharply than she’d meant to.

  “Heavens no! What’s wrong with the gown I have on? I’ve changed so often today I’m tired already.”

  When the girl had left, Ginny started to pace nervously around her room immediately. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror—the new gown Tia Maria had insisted she wear this morning was quite becoming, and in the very latest style, caught up in an intriguing bustle at the back. Not that it mattered, she caught herself thinking viciously, for he never noticed what she was wearing—his one aim in the past had seemed to be tearing the clothes off her back!

  It did not in the least help Ginny’s nerves when her duenna, the self-effacing Señora Armijo, came bustling in, all of a dither. It was she, in the end, who had to calm the excited Señora, assuring her several times that indeed, she was positive that she was by no means nervous—she was quite calm, why shouldn’t she be? It relieved her greatly, however, to be informed that Dona Maria was visiting her son this morning and would not be back until sometime later in the afternoon.

  “Such a shame! She will be sorry to miss Esteban’s arrival,” Tia Alfonsa kept repeating, “she’ll be very put out, I know it!”

  Ginny had seated herself with some embroidery, more in order to calm her duenna than because she needed something to do. She kept telling herself sternly that she was not in the least afraid, not at all upset, but when she heard those familiar footsteps just outside her door she sprang quickly to her feet, feeling the blood drain from her face.

  “You need not go,” she whispered almost imploringly, “after all, it’s not as if we’re romantic children, or strangers to each other!”

  “But he’s your novio! Don Francisco said it was permissible for you to see each other alone,” the woman said with some surprise. As soon as Steve appeared in the doorway, she made her excuses and hurried away tactfully.

  There was no escape for her now, she had to face him, and hope that her face would not betray her inward quailing.

  “I hear we are to be married,” were the first words he said, and although his voice sounded surprisingly mild, Ginny was not deceived—she had seen the mocking, almost evil look in his narrowed eyes as he took in each detail of her appearance, before he veiled them again with his ridiculously long lashes.

  He lounged against the doorway, apparently quite at ease, but she had seen immediately that his lips were drawn taut and white with suppressed anger, and he could not hide the frowning look that the drawing together of his black brows gave him.

  He was carrying a package of some sort, which he now tossed carelessly onto a chair.

  “I brought you a present—a new gown. Although I can see it was hardly necessary. But you might wear it tonight, if it pleases you.”

  How politely he spoke, and how calmly, but all the time he was raging inside, his anger just barely controlled—she had seen him like this before, and she knew too well what it meant when his eyes seemed to gleam like hard blue stones, and his nostrils flared just so…oh, he was furious! But just as obviously he was trying hard to control his rage, and the idea that she was safe from it, that he dared not raise his hand to her made Ginny’s chin tilt slightly upward as she faced him boldly, her eyes staring contemptuously into his.

  “Thank you! You must forgive my surprise—I’m not used to such considerate gestures from you.”

  “That’s what my grandfather seems to think too—that I’ve treated you in an inhuman fashion. Shall I try to make amends? Perhaps I should court you with all kinds of sweet words and loverlike phrases—maybe that’s the way to a woman’s heart!” His eyes narrowed at her hatefully and he showed his teeth in a positively wicked smile. “You seem tongue-tied suddenly, Ginny. That isn’t like you. Are you disappointed that I haven’t greeted you properly yet?”

  Before she was fully aware of what he was on about, Steve had crossed the room to her with his long strides and grasped her in his arms.

  He brought his face closer to hers and Ginny closed her eyes instinctively against the blazing anger she could discern in his. Or was it merely in anticipation of his kiss? She did not know, she was merely conscious of her own weakness, of the almost hypnotic power his embraces still seemed to wield over her. He had not kissed her yet, but she could almost feel, like a physical thing, the burning gaze of his eyes on her face, her lips, her shoulders and breasts. What was he waiting for? How dared he hold her pinioned this way while he studied her, feature by feature, as if he had never seen her before? Ginny summoned up the strength to whisper fiercely, “No, don’t! Let me go!” Her hands pressed against his chest, trying to push him away.

  But his arms only tightened even more, holding her so closely that she felt her breath cut off.

  “Hadn’t you better get used to my embraces, my love? Is this the way to greet your prospective husband? I’ve been told how anxiously you were awaiting my return, why don’t you prove it?”

  Her eyes flew open at last and glared into his.

  “Stop it! I hate you!”

  He gave a sudden, sarcastic laugh that startled her into silence.

  “Ah, yes, of course,” he drawled mockingly, “how could I have forgotten that? And here I thought you’d changed your mind, and were marrying me for love! Are you sure you’re not nurturing a secret passion for me, Ginny? Try kissing me back, I shall expect more willingness from you after we’re married, you know!”

  She began to struggle against him, but he had bent his head and was kissing her, long and hard and almost hurtfully, with his fingers tangled in her hair to keep her from turning her head away; pulling its carefully arranged coils loose and sending pins scattering all over the floor. She had tried to forget the way he kissed her; the way his mouth almost seemed to take possession of hers, bruising her lips, forcing them apart while his tongue ravaged her mouth; demanding, almost compelling her own response.

  His arm was clamped around her waist, and as her head fell back under the fury of his kiss she was suddenly, painfully aware of the hard, muscular promise of his body against hers. Why did it always have to be this way? It was humiliating, degrading, to be forced thus into the full realization of her own weakness and the almost sordid sensuality that his touch could arou
se in her.

  Ginny was almost past reason when the kiss ended and she found herself freed as abruptly as she had been swept into his arms. She was still breathless, as if she’d run a long distance, and in order to stand erect she had to hold on to the back of a chair with both hands. It took her a moment to realize that Steve, on the other hand, seemed quite unmoved—he had stepped back, and his narrowed eyes surveyed her critically. Anger flared up in her, replacing the sensuous languor of a moment before.

  Her hair fell loosely to her waist, her cheeks wore a feverish flush, and her eyes, which a moment ago had appeared a soft, cloudy green seemed to darken like the surface of the sea when a storm is at hand. Even her voice sounded stormy, and choked with emotion.

  “What did you think to prove by that? That you are still physically stronger than I am? You disgust me!”

  He had hooked his thumbs in his belt, a gesture she had always hated. And now he sneered at her, his voice a sarcastic drawl.

  “I didn’t always disgust you, as I recall very well. In fact, you seemed only too anxious to discover what it was you’d been missing all the time you were still a frightened little virgin! What I cannot understand is why you want to marry me. Do you crave respectability that much? Think of all the new experiences you’ll be missing, Ginny—no more exciting new lovers—no more adventures. Won’t you become bored? You’re a very passionate woman, even if you are still too much of a puritan to admit it; it’s so easy to arouse you, my love! Don’t you remember how quickly you turned to Carl Hoskins after me, and then to your handsome French captain? Come, I know you could have done better than to choose me for a husband, I’ve no intentions of settling down, and I’m an outlaw, a miserable half-breed wretch, remember? How is it you’ve changed your mind?”

  He might as well have slapped her—his sneering, contemptuous words drove Ginny almost out of her mind with rage. And still he stood there with that jeering half-smile twisting his lips, waiting calmly for her reaction.

  “You dare say those things to me?” Her voice rose, and she had to use all her strength of will to control it. “You dare accuse me of—oh God! What kind of hypocrite are you? Do you think I don’t know what you were up to on your mysterious urgent trip to Mexico City? Or that her name is Danielle? Oh, yes,” she went on furiously, pleased to see that her barb had struck home and the smile had vanished from his lips, “I’m not quite as foolish and ignorant as you seem to think! I knew exactly what I was doing when I told your grandfather I’d marry you—didn’t I always swear to you that some day I’d be revenged, I’d make you sorry you ever decided to kidnap me in that high-handed fashion? Did you imagine I’d ever forgive you for the brutal, vicious way you’ve treated me? No, Steve dear, for once you’re going to find out how it feels to be forced into something you don’t want—you’ll marry me and set me free; don’t imagine I want to live with you and be your prisoner any longer! I mean to travel—wherever I want and whenever I want, and if I desire lovers I shall have them too—won’t that be quite a change for you to be the one to wear horns? I’ll keep you informed, of course, but there won’t be anything you can do about it—take as many mistresses as you like, I don’t care, but I’ll be your wife, and I’ll bear your name!”

  She was breathless when she had finished, her narrowed, hate-filled eyes gleamed at him like a cat’s.

  “What a bitch you’ve turned out to be!” His voice sounded quiet and almost conversational, but Ginny was not deceived, she knew very well the extent of his anger. His face looked as if a mask had been dropped over it with every muscle in it strained and tense.

  “But I’ve had such a good teacher, in you, Steve!” Deliberately, and almost flirtatiously she widened her eyes at him and was rewarded when she saw his jaws clamp together. For an instant she thought she had gone too far, and that he would spring forward like a wolf and crush her throat between his hands.

  But he took a deep breath, and was suddenly smiling at her.

  “Some day, my love, you must tell me what you and my grandfather have planned for me. But in the meantime, perhaps we should try to enjoy what time we’ll have together. You’re really magnificent when you’re angry, do you know that?”

  How infuriating he was! One moment she had almost expected him to be breathing fire, but the next he seemed to be maddeningly, completely self-possessed, his voice sounding cool and even slightly amused. How could he regain control of his emotions so quickly?

  “Please don’t bother to pay me compliments at this point,” Ginny said haughtily. “I think we both know how we stand!”

  “Well, I’m not too sure about that,” he said thoughtfully. “You’re a little bitch all right, but I think you can be brought to heel. Perhaps I’ve just used the wrong techniques! At any rate, I’ve been given my orders. I’m to treat you with nothing but respect—I’m to whisper sweet nothings in your pretty ears—my grandfather tells me it’s high time I started acting like a prospective bridegroom. If we’re to be married, I suppose we might as well make the best of it, don’t you think?”

  He reached his hand out and touched her face lightly, laughing when she flinched.

  “You’re as flushed as if you have a fever, my sweet! Are you sure you feel well enough to attend the festivities this evening? Which reminds me, I’ll call for you promptly at seven o’clock, do so try to be ready then, my grandfather hates to be kept waiting, and we’ll have a long drive ahead of us.”

  “You’re really insufferable!” she said in a freezing voice.

  “You’re really quite like a gypsy, when your hair’s down like that, and your eyes turn as dark as a sunless forest,” he mocked her, his voice teasing. “You see, you can inspire even a hardened sinner like myself into becoming poetic! Actually, you’re most desirable when you’re all fiery and dishevelled like this, it’s a pity we aren’t married yet!”

  “Ohh!” Ginny gasped angrily, “I can’t take any more of this! Will you get out? I won’t hear any more!”

  She turned her back on him and ran like a coward for the seclusion of her bedroom, angrily aware of the sound of Steve’s cynical laughter behind her. Ginny slammed the door shut as loudly as she could, hoping to close herself in with silence, but all the same she was obliged to put her hands over her ears to still the pounding of her heart.

  It was only some time later, when her duenna re-entered her room carrying a package in her arms, her face reproachfully inquiring, that Ginny remembered what Steve had brought her. She did not want to open it. She would have preferred to rip the gown that reposed inside the carefully wrapped parcel to shreds! But under Señora Armijo’s watchful eyes she had to force some excuse from between lips that still felt painfully bruised, and fumble with string.

  However, once the wrappings were thrown aside and the gown lifted out, its folds and flounces shaken loose, Ginny could not repress a spontaneous exclamation of delight. It was a ball gown, the most beautiful she had ever seen—really exquisite! It appeared to be green until the light caught the material it was made from, and then other colors magically appeared in its folds—flashing, iridescent, constantly changing and seeming to merge into each other. She had never seen anything like this before, how was it possible that one piece of cloth should contain so many different, subtle shadings?

  Even Señora Armijo’s normally impassive face seemed transformed with admiration as she gazed at the gown—the beautiful, shimmering dress that was now laid carefully across Ginny’s bed so that they could study and admire it further. It’s cut so low in front! Ginny found herself thinking, most of me will be exposed! And yet, wearing it, I’d feel like a fairy princess!

  Tia Alfonsa’s voice cut across her thoughts at that moment.

  “Oh! But I’ve never seen anything so lovely! You’ll be the envy of every woman, Genia! It is a good thing you are safely betrothed, or I should never be able to keep all the young caballeros away. What excellent taste—how much dear Esteban must think of you!”

  The mention of Steve�
��s name brought Ginny back to earth with an unpleasant jolt, although at the same time her fingers could not help touching the soft, almost flimsy material caressingly.

  Steve—why did he have to be the one to give her this particular gown? And where on earth could he have found such a treasure? No doubt, she thought resentfully, he had stolen it. Perhaps it had belonged to the Countess Danielle—oh God! Perhaps he’d gone so far as to steal it from the Empress Carlotta herself! He’s capable of any act, no matter how low and despicable, she thought angrily. And yet, in spite of all her misgivings, Ginny knew that she would not be able to resist wearing the gown that very night.

  It’s green—and yet it reminds me in some way of an opal—a fire opal. Yes, that was it, she decided. She’d wear this gown tonight, and with it the magnificent fire opals that Don Francisco had presented her with. They were the only jewels that she could possibly wear with this dress.

  “I’ll wear it tonight,” Ginny said aloud, and watched Señora Armijo take up the dress almost reverently.

  “I’ll press it myself,” the older woman said. “I wouldn’t trust either of those stupid girls with such a task. I’ll bring it back soon, and hang it up for you—you ought to try and get some rest before tonight Genia, the dancing is likely to go on until dawn!”

  “Oh, yes, the dancing,” Ginny thought listlessly after her duenna had left once more. She felt strangely restless—and curious too.

  What kind of role was Steve playing this time? And what methods had Don Francisco used to bend his grandson’s stubborn will to his own? It really would be most interesting to find out just why Steve had given in so easily, it just wasn’t like him, especially as he had made it clear he hated the idea of being married to her.

  Thinking about him always had the effect of making her furious! With a muffled exclamation of disgust Ginny threw herself on her bed and closed her eyes, determined to conform to custom for once and take a siesta.

  She would have been more than a little surprised if she knew that at this very moment, Steve Morgan was thinking about her—his thoughts almost as angry and full of bitterness as hers were.