Red Leopard (The Vistaria Affair Series)

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

“Nothing. Why?”

  “You haven’t taken off your jacket.”

  He paused, looking at her as though he weighed his answer, then continued to tear into a bun. “It is somewhat cool outside. I want to be warm again before I remove it.”

  He had the same look as when she had seen him in the cell. The cool, assessing look that missed nothing and gave nothing away. His voice was the same rough burr she remembered from the first time they had met. The low, controlled voice of one used to command.

  “Bullshit,” she said. “You’re not Nick. You’re...el leopardo. Whoever it is at the door has made you start thinking of Vistaria, your affairs.”

  He put the bun down and slid his hand into his pocket. She had seen him make that habitual motion dozens of times and realized he was reaching for the St. Christopher medallion. It was an instinctive and secret reach for comfort, for reassurance. El rojo leopardo could not afford to reveal weakness or hesitancy, after all.

  But he had placed the medallion around her neck. He had given it to reassure her.

  Yes, Nick was thinking of his country now. The reach for the medal told her that.

  Nick withdrew his hand. “You’re very perceptive.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I would not burden you with my petty concerns.”

  “When they trouble you so much, they’re my concern too. “

  He reached out and lay his hand over hers. It felt cool. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought that here we would be insulated from such things.”

  “We are, mostly. I don’t pretend to know what your day-to-day life must be like, Nick, but I know it must be a good deal busier and carry far more interruptions than the six hours I’ve experienced so far.”

  “That is true.”

  “If this is a petty concern then share it with me and let me help it go away for a while.”

  He shook his head. “I would not sully your thoughts with even a petty Vistarian concern. I would prefer you remain aloof from it all. Untouched.”

  “That’s impossible, Nick. I got involved when some asshole decided to blow up a party full of young army officers.”

  He smiled a little. “Is that your oblique way of reminding me what Vistaria owes you?”

  “Hell, no. I just want to help.”

  He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “A local farmer came here a little while ago. He said there are signs of soldiers in the area. Footprints in muddy fields, flocks of birds disturbed. Small signs.”

  “Isn’t the rebel camp somewhere around here?”

  “No one really knows where it is. Besides, they keep on the move. The area where we think they are is many miles south of us. On the other side of Pascuallita.”

  “So who are the soldiers?”

  “It may not be soldiers. Or rebels. It could simply be someone wearing army-issue boots. There’s a healthy trade in used and surplus army equipment in Vistaria.”

  “But someone is hanging around here, right?”

  “The signs stopped appearing two days ago.”

  “But you’re still worried.”

  “The worry is passing,” he assured her.

  “And you’re also a liar,” she said softly.

  Chapter Twelve

  They did not make love that night. The farmer’s visit had popped the bubble of isolation. Calli sensed the demands of Nick’s world reaching for him, calling for his attention. She did not intrude on his thoughts. She took care not to give any hint of her need for him, although she badly wanted him to take her in his arms. She needed him to assure her it would all go away, that he could be hers for just a little longer.

  When the moon hung high and small, he picked up her hand and helped her to her feet. “I’m sorry, Calli. This is not what I intended.”

  “It’s all right,” she assured him. “I’d be a stupid fool to think it could all stay away for as long as I wanted.”

  “I shared that wish,” he said. “So, let’s see what we can do to preserve what we can, hmm? A night of sleep, that might be free of dreams now I have tasted the reality, could be enough to push the ghouls away. I will make it up to you tomorrow, I promise.”

  So they had gone to bed.

  Nick held her beneath the green quilt and kissed her cheek, but she knew his mind was elsewhere. He was preoccupied.

  Sometime later Callie woke to a soft growling by her head. She jerked fully awake, trying to orient herself. She lay on one side, her back up against Nick. He had his arm over her waist and his hand cupped her breast.

  The low growl came again, very close. She stiffened.

  “It’s all right,” Nick said by her ear. “She’s just nosing around outside. It’s a restless night for everyone.”

  “You can’t sleep still?”

  “I’ve slept, but sleeping seems such a waste of time while I have you in my arms. I feel I must make the most of the time I have.”

  “You’ve been watching me?” She turned so that she could see his face.

  “And thinking, yes.”

  She turned all the way over to face him. The moonlight illuminated his face but his eyes hid in shadows.

  “Black thoughts,” she whispered.

  He was silent for a long moment. “Yes,” he said at last, his voice soft.

  “Tell me,” she coaxed.

  He sighed. “My deepest fear is that Vistaria will be lost. The balance here is so precarious and there are so many wrong turns that even one of us could make. That one wrong turn might be all that is needed to destroy the balance.”

  “Is that why you worry so much?”

  “It’s not worry that distracts me.” He touched her cheek. “If it was simply worry, then I would not have been such a poor host this evening.”

  “What is it, then?”

  “The weighing of decisions, of actions. Each and every one of them must be considered. I must constantly guess, estimate and measure the possible consequences.”

  “I was one of those decisions, wasn’t I?”

  Again, he sighed deeply. “Bringing you here was purely selfish. I gave it no more thought beyond what I wanted, with no thought of the risks.”

  “Tonight, you’ve started to wonder what the price will be for that indulgence.”

  “A little, yes.” His hand came down to rest on her waist, heavy and warm. “But only a little. I will not regret this and neither should you.”

  She could hear a tightness in his voice. Fear? “You don’t sound very convincing, Nick,” she said softly.

  His silence seemed to throb between them, speaking of the tension within him.

  Calli brushed her fingers across his cheek and kissed him very gently. She meant it simply as a sign of empathy and affection, but it gave her an idea. She sat up and turned to face him on her knees. She pushed at his shoulder, coaxing him to lie on his back. It was like pushing on a rock-face, but he lay down anyway. “What...?” he began.

  “Shhh.” She leaned over him and kissed him, tasting his tongue and lips. She let her lips travel where they wanted over his face, his neck. She trailed them up to his ears and down again to his collar bones. His skin tasted salty and soft to her tongue and lips. His hand rested on her thigh and she paused. “You don’t have to do anything,” she said softly. “This is for you.”

  “Calli—”

  “It’s all right. I know you’re troubled. Let me help ease your mind. Relax. Let it happen, Nick.”

  “But...”

  She put her finger on his lips, silencing him. “If you’re about to tell me it’s your role to give pleasure then you can remain silent. You have given me so much pleasure this day, Nick. It’s my turn. Let me do this. Let me give pleasure.”

  His lips moved against her finger. A kiss. “As you wish,” he murmured.

  She smiled and bent down to kiss him, letting her breast rest against his chest. “Yes, this is my wish.” She kissed her way back down to his collarbone again.

  She did not speak the rest of her thought
aloud: That it was only a part of her wish. The wish she hid from him had been growing all evening, shaping itself in her mind.

  She spent long minutes tasting and stroking the flesh over his shoulders and chest, teasing the taut flat discs of his nipples with her fingernails, listening to his breathing and the small little sounds of reaction to what she did. She slid her tongue down the shallow indentation of his abdomen, swirled around his navel and smiled at the catch of his breath.

  “You’re enjoying this, after all,” she teased.

  “It is very intense, to simply accept it,” he murmured, his voice thick.

  Calli nudged his thighs apart and settled herself between them. His engorged cock lay on his stomach. When she leaned over and blew on it gently, she heard his breath hitch yet again. What a delicious sound.

  Carefully avoiding the throbbing shaft, she nibbled and tasted his skin all around. She felt the taut plane of muscles beneath bunch and quiver in reaction. For a long moment she paused, her mouth hovering over his cock, then moved on to taste along the length of his thigh to the inside of his knee. Then over to the other knee, and a slow crawl back up to his hip, along the inner thigh.

  Which brought her back to his cock, which strained and jerked. She slid her fingertip along its length, to linger for a moment on the very tip and it reared. Quickly, she gripped him in her hand and Nick gasped. “Hot,” he muttered.

  “Hotter still,” Calli responded and bent to take him into her mouth, her lips sliding over the thick head.

  His hips lifted beneath her and he gave a groan that seemed to be pulled from deep, deep within him.

  She swirled her tongue around the ridge of skin edging the head of his cock and drew him into her mouth, deeper, then let him slide out. From the corner of her eye she saw Nick’s hand claw at the sheet beside her knee. Encouraged, she kept up the motion, exploring the shape and size of him with her tongue, teeth and lips, her hand cupping his testicles, gently caressing them.

  He panted now, clenching and releasing his butt, his muscles spasming. Almost...almost....

  At the last minute she pulled away, licking her lips for the taste of him.

  Nick gave a growl of frustration and she lifted her head to watch him fall back onto the mattress, the tension released when he realized she would not allow him to climax.

  It was a small power she had, yet one that would bring immense pleasure if she wielded it properly.

  To be able to provide such pleasure gave her joy. It touched again the secret wish building inside her. To always provide such pleasure to Nick...what a joy that would be.

  She bent to take his throbbing cock back into her mouth again and Nick gave a small hiss of what sounded like pain.

  “Ah, Calli, to tease so isn’t ladylike,” he said, his voice husky.

  She sucked at him, letting her tongue answer him.

  He arched against her, his hips bucking hard. She could feel the tension building in him again, his thighs tightening. As soon as she suspected his climax approached, she halted for the necessary few moments for it to subside, before taking him back into her mouth.

  She repeated the rise and fall cycle over and over again, until Nick writhed beneath her, panting and quivering at her slightest touch. His hands clenched at the sheets, mauling them. The tendons of his neck and arms corded under the skin and his whole body quivered, drum tight. Sweat glistened at his temples, reflecting the last of the moonlight.

  She slithered up the length of his body, letting her breasts brush against him, and kissed his dry lips. “Shall I let you come?” she whispered.

  “Ah, please...!” he croaked.

  She settled her knees on either side of his hips and lowered herself until she felt his cock pushing against her slit.

  She heard Nick’s breathing pause at the touch.

  She sank down, taking him into her, feeling the hot thickness of his shaft spread her apart. He gasped unsteadily.

  She paused, savoring the feel of him deep inside her. She stored the impression in her memory. She would need such memories later, when she returned home.

  Slowly she drew up, up, to a point close to where he would slip out of her, then slid down, down, back slowly down again.

  Nick gave a low animal growl, deep in his throat. His hands gripped her thighs. Squeezed. The hard pressure of his fingers on her thighs and the flex of muscles in his strong wrists and forearms drove her.

  Slowly, she rose and fell upon him again, lingeringly. His fingers tightened and dug a little deeper.

  She read from his quivering, bow-taut body and erratic breathing that she had reached the outer limits of his control. Only a little more pressure would break that control. She watched, alert for the smallest sign, as she maintained the long, slow stroking of his cock, clenching her muscles around him to intensify the sensation for him.

  Then the moment arrived.

  “Calli!” he said in a desperate cry.

  She gathered herself, increasing the speed of her movements, bringing on the climax that could no longer be held back. Nick thrust against her, once, twice, a third time. The fourth was the longest and his cock jerked inside her.

  He fell back on the mattress once more, completely spent, his body as limp as a stringless puppet.

  She settled onto the bed beside him and when she judged by his breathing that he was calm once more, she eased him over on to his side and pulled the cover up over both of them.

  “Sleep,” she whispered and kissed his temple.

  She snuggled up behind him, threading her arm under his and over his torso, to rest her hand against his heart. With sleep-slowed movements, he picked up her hand, kissed her fingers. She sensed he intended to return her hand to where it had been resting, but the motion was not completed. His hand grew heavy and dropped away from hers.

  He slept.

  * * * * *

  A little later, she roused from a light slumber. Nick still lay beside her, but now he rested on his back. She couldn’t tell if he slept or not. At her movement, his hand sought hers and brought it to his lips. This time he completed the act properly and she felt his lips touch the back of her hand squarely.

  “That’s very Vistarian,” she said. “I like it.”

  “I am Vistarian despite my coloring. Sometimes I think I am more Vistarian than my brother who has a fondness for all things American.” All the tension and worry had left his voice. He simply observed a fact now.

  “You mean Jose? Does he know about me, Nick? Does anyone?”

  “Duardo and Minerva know.”

  “My uncle suspects, I think.”

  “A great many people have suspicions. Suspicion comes easily to Vistarians these days. Truth is in short supply.”

  “You say you love Vistaria, but you speak of the people so callously sometimes.”

  “Love always includes acceptance of weaknesses, haven’t you noticed? I know Vistaria and her people too well and love them too much to ignore their weaknesses. Besides, in a country this small where everyone knows just a little of everyone else’s affairs, suspicion sprouts far too easily.”

  “Cynic.”

  “Realist,” he corrected.

  “I’m the realist. You’re the....” She cast about for the right word, but the only one that came to her was savior and she fell silent, confused. Sadness touched her. His talk of love had released her awareness and opened her perceptions. She couldn’t speak or find the strength to pretend nothing had changed in the last second or two.

  “I’m the what?” he asked. “The doomed romantic?”

  She found her voice. “Now you’re being cynical again,” she teased, pleased with the casual tone that emerged. It hid her momentary confusion and welling sorrow. “Try to sleep.”

  “Para usted, mi dama fuerte, yo trataré,” he murmured.

  She turned away from him and lay her head back on her pillow, letting the sadness that had washed over her dominate her mind.

  For only now she recognized she was
the doomed romantic. Yes, Nick had coaxed that side of her to re-bud and bloom, but now she faced an awful truth: she loved him. Within the next day, or perhaps two if she was very lucky, he would say goodbye and they would never again lie like this together.

  La dama fuerte, she mentally whispered. Hold it together, Calli. Walk away with your chin up. That’s the bargain you struck, and now you must live with it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next day she found out what a slice farm was.

  “There’s not enough flat ground in Vistaria for bulk crops,” Nick told her as they walked around the property. “And there’s not enough people to make the farming of a single product viable. Vistarian farmers figured out for themselves how to farm vertically, decades before the scientists started talking about micro-climates.”

  He pointed to the top of the mountain. “Up that high, you get frosts. So they plant cherries and apple trees and other fruit. A little further down, apricots, plums and some of the hardy vegetables.” He pointed to the steep slopes a little lower than where they stood. “There, you will get coffee and lots of herbs. Down further still, pineapples, many more vegetables and spices.”

  Each time he pointed, Calli picked out a terraced piece of land laid out in orderly gardens.

  Nick brought his two index fingers together up in the air and traced an elongated triangle against the mountain in front of him. “There is not as much land at the top to share around, and more is given at the bottom for the crops that need room. So you end up with a piece of the mountain that looks like a slice of pie.”

  “A slice farm,” Calli murmured admiringly. It was a simple concept, but very practical. Practicality seemed to be the flipside characteristic of Vistarians, offsetting a love of drama and passion in their leisure pursuits and entertainments—like the Luna festival.

  Nick’s house sat on one of the middle terraces of the old farms he had acquired. They climbed to the upper levels to investigate the source of the waterfall—or at least, Calli wanted to investigate despite Nick’s assurance there was nothing to see.

  By the time they climbed up the winding path for two terraces, she was breathing raggedly and her thigh and calf muscles screamed for mercy. “My god, the farmers must be just bouncing with good health climbing these things every day!”