Golden Roses

by Patricia Hagan

  She slammed the door on him and flung herself across the bed. Let him lord it over her. Armand would be there soon, and when he found out that she was being held prisoner, he would free her one way or another.

  Her fingertips traced her lips as she recalled the fire of Armand’s kiss. He had aroused her, made her body tremble with a hunger she knew he could feed. Yet there was that other awesome feeling, the awareness that Cord Hayden aroused more and could give more.

  She shook herself furiously. Cord Hayden was not to be trusted. Just why was he here in Mexico? There were so many questions that needled. Armand, on the other hand, was a gentleman. Cord would probably want to be repaid for his help, and, she thought with a shiver, he was the kind of man who would collect his dues. Cord was not a gentleman.

  The day passed with agonizing slowness. She paced back and forth on her balcony, searching for some sign of Armand’s arrival.

  It was almost two o’clock in the afternoon when she heard her door being unlocked and hurried back into the room to see Dolita enter with a lunch tray. The guard looked in and gave Amber a smirk, his eyes resting insolently on her bosom before he slammed the door and locked it again. Dolita set the tray down, then silently motioned for Amber to follow her out to the balcony.

  “We must whisper,” she ordered nervously. “Guards are all around. I know you have many questions, but I have no time. Let me tell you what I know. Señor Mendosa came a short while ago—”

  “Armand was here?” Amber cried. “Is he still here?”

  “No, no, he has gone.” Dolita stepped back, pressing a finger to her lips. “And you must be quiet. If the guard hears anything, he will go to Señor Valdis and I will be beaten. Please, señorita, if I am to help you, you must help me.” Her brown eyes pleaded.

  “Yes, of course.” Amber nodded. “Go on, please.”

  “There was a big fight. Esconcia, who was cleaning in the next room, overheard and told me what happened. Señor Mendosa went into Señor Valdis’s study, and they talked quietly for only a moment before Señor Valdis began to scream and shout. He yelled to Señor Mendosa that if he married anyone, it would be his sister, and that if you married anyone, it would be him. He said you already told him you would be his wife. Señor Mendosa became very angry and said you would never agree to marry him. Señor Valdis ordered Señor Mendosa to get off the ranch before he killed him.”

  Dolita paused and Amber urged her on. “What happened then? And where is Armand now?”

  “Esconcia says that Señor Valdis was holding a gun to Señor Mendosa’s back as he led him out of the house. Then one of his men took him all the way to the gate. Please, señorita. I cannot stay any longer.”

  Stunned, Amber vaguely heard the door open and close as Dolita departed. Amber wandered back into the room and lay down across the bed, her mind whirling. There seemed no way out. There were guards at her door. She was truly a prisoner. The complete acknowledgment of her plight brought tears, and she wept until exhausted slumber carried her away.

  She awoke when Dolita returned that evening to light the lanterns and bring a supper tray.

  “You must eat,” the girl urged. “You will become weak, like Señora Allegra.”

  “I don’t care,” Amber murmured, flinging her arm across her face to ward off the lanterns’ glow.

  “If you do not eat, you will be too ill to take advantage of an opportunity when it comes. Do not give up on Señor Mendosa—or Señor Hayden. Both are strong men and courageous.”

  The door opened, and the guard looked in and frowned at Dolita. He ordered the maid out, and then Amber found herself alone again.

  She sat up and looked at the tray. There was a colorful clay pitcher filled with cool chocolate. The platter of turnovers made of stuffed corn pastry and flat little cakes made from cactus fruit made her realize how hungry she was.

  Finally pushing the tray aside, she stood and walked out onto the balcony. The night was warm and still, with rolling clouds of silver and a moon casting shadows. She stared into the horizon. Damn Valdis! She was going to escape even if she had to jump to the ground below.

  Walking to the edge of the balcony, she wrapped her fingers around the ornate railing. “I will do it,” she whispered. “I will make myself do it.”

  “I wouldn’t. It’s a long way down.”

  She jumped, whipping her head around to see a man perched on the railing at the side of the balcony. His hat shadowed his face, but she could see the arms folded across his massive chest, the shirt unbuttoned to the waist. Strong, muscular thighs strained against tight chinos.

  “Cord Hayden!” she spat. “You scared me to death! What are you doing there?”

  He cocked his head to one side. “I’m your guard for the night.”

  “You?” she sputtered. “But Valdis would never—”

  “Of course not.” He laughed, now standing before her. “I climbed up here, which wasn’t difficult. Valdis’s guards aren’t very smart.

  “Now then,” he said, the smile disappearing. “I don’t have much time and we had better discuss the trouble you’re in. Armand came charging home, wanting to round up men and guns and go to war with Valdis.”

  “Then you know about the argument they had.”

  “I know that Valdis told Armand you had agreed to marry him. I think it’s a lie.” His eyes narrowed. “I also know that you didn’t listen to me. You cried on Armand’s shoulder, and now he’s right in the middle of this damn mess. He may get himself killed.”

  “You think I want that?” she countered resentfully, then hissed, “You think I’m using Armand, don’t you? Well, I think it’s time I set you straight on a few things, Cord Hayden, and you can pass them along to Armand when you see him. I’m going to get myself out of this mess. I don’t need anyone’s help, so just stay away. I’m sorry I became a…a nuisance to you.”

  She turned to go back inside, but Cord reached out quickly and caught her arm. She stared up at him belligerently, furious with herself for being so angry. She thought once more how overwhelmingly handsome he was, however formidable. “Take your hands away,” she ordered.

  “I don’t take orders from anyone, particularly hysterical women,” he murmured, amused “So you just calm down and listen. It’s all fine and noble that you have now decided you don’t need anybody’s help, but it’s a little late for that. Now, I’m going to do this my way, whether you like it or not. I only came over here to tell you to stay calm. I figured you’d hear about the fight this morning and go to pieces…like a woman,” he added sarcastically.

  “I’m not going to pieces, sir.” She jerked futilely against his grasp. “Now please leave.”

  “I’m going.” He nodded, hands slipping to grasp her waist. “I’ve never met a woman yet I was willing to die for.”

  “And I doubt one has ever wanted to die for you, either.”

  He cocked his head to one side and gazed down at her as though she were merely a delightful child. “There have been times,” he murmured, “when women begged to die…but not in a way you would understand. Not yet, that is.”

  She felt her cheeks flaming. “You are the most arrogant, conceited man I have ever met. I know all about you, Cord Hayden. I know how you sneaked into Maretta’s room behind Armand’s back—and probably ravished her.”

  “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he snapped. “And I am not going to talk about that with you. Now, just don’t do anything to rile Valdis.”

  He released her, and she stepped away, blinking back furious tears. “I don’t want your help. I have news for you. I can take care of myself.”

  Suddenly he pulled her against him, his lips moving down on hers. Amber froze, allowing him to devour her mouth, allowing the warmth to spread through her. Then, abruptly, she gained control of herself and twisted away.

  “You had no right!” She shook her head. “No right at all. What kind of an animal are you? Armand calls you his friend, and you force yourself up
on a woman you know he cares about.”

  A frown crossed his forehead, and she knew she had, at last, hit home.

  “He is my friend,” he said slowly, evenly, eyes boring into her. “And, in time, he will come to realize you aren’t for him. Not all men can tame that fire burning within you, Amber.”

  She gave her long hair a toss. “And how do you know a fire burns within me, Cord Hayden? Who are you to know so much about me?”

  “I know women,” he said simply, and meant it.

  “But never one like me.” She threw out the words with a spirit she had never, until that moment, known she possessed.

  “Perhaps.” He smiled. “Who knows? I may have met a challenge for the first time in my life. But I think I’ll enjoy facing it.”

  In a rage, she ran toward her room, then turned to whisper hoarsely, “Tell Armand not to worry about me. I will take care of myself. And if you ever dare come near me again, Cord Hayden…”

  Her voice trailed off as she realized the terrace was empty. He had slipped into the night as quietly as he had come, as quietly as the nocturnal animal he was.

  The dream came again that night, and the faceless man possessed her, and she felt the spasms of release deep within her belly. The mist parted, and for the first time, her lover had a face. It was Cord Hayden who held her and quenched the fire.

  Chapter Eight

  Rain made little pattering sounds as the droplets trailed from the tile roof to cascade onto the balcony outside. The late morning sky was thick with heavy, slated clouds.

  Amber stared out through the double doors at the third day of rain and the fourth of confinement in her room. How much longer? She shivered.

  The sound of voices lured her to the locked door, and in a minute, Dolita rushed in with a lunch tray, glancing around in fright, as always. She set the tray down, and Amber looked at the baked fish in a thick yellow sauce.

  Dolita moved so close to Amber that she could feel the maid’s breath. “I have a message from Señor Hayden.”

  “Cord?” Amber blinked, heart pounding. “Was he here?”

  “I was at the well, drawing water, and he was in the bushes, hiding. He called to me, and when I could be sure no one was watching, I went to him. He said he will come to you tonight to take you to Señor Mendosa. You are to be ready at midnight.”

  Amber suppressed a cry of delight. “Tonight!” She clapped her hands together silently. “Tonight I am leaving!” But when she saw the look on Dolita’s face, the sudden exhilaration disappeared.

  “I am sorry,” Dolita murmured, eyes downcast. “It is not what you think. Señor Mendosa insists upon seeing you, and he cannot come here, for he might not be able to control his temper if Señor Valdis discovers him. Señor Hayden says he will be able to slip in without being seen, and take you to him, but then he will bring you back.”

  Amber sank down on the bed and sighed. “Well, at least I will see him. And he may have some kind of plan.”

  “I must go now.” Dolita moved toward the door. “The guard will get suspicious if I stay too long.”

  With too many things on her mind to think of food, Amber spent the next hour or so in her tub, excited and happy. But when Dolita returned in midafternoon, she knew something was very wrong.

  “Señor Valdis,” Dolita told her quickly, wringing her hands, “says you are to be brought to him at once. He has ordered sangria and wishes you to have a drink with him. He says if you refuse, the guard must bring you by force.”

  A few minutes later, the guard led her down the hall and downstairs into the parlor.

  Valdis was seated on a thickly embroidered sofa. Patting the place next to him, he smiled broadly and said, “I thought you might enjoy some time out of your room, querida. And I have some news that will delight you.”

  Amber sat in a chair as far away from him as possible. “Don’t call me your beloved, Valdis. And yes, I would enjoy some time out of my cell, but not if it means being with you.”

  “Ah, is that any way for you to talk to your future husband?” He chuckled, crossing his legs, the smug expression never wavering.

  Amber laughed. “I will never marry you.” She leaned forward. “And how long can you continue this? How long do you think you can keep me locked in this house like a prisoner? Surely, people in the valley will start to ask questions.”

  “Of course.” He nodded slowly. “But not for long. Which brings me to my news. We are all going on a trip to Mexico City. Your stepmother and stepsister will be going, too. It is traditional that the Alezparito family be in attendance at important events. There is to be a big fiesta in celebration of President Juarez’s imminent reelection. There will be many parties, and you will go with me to all of them.”

  “I have no desire to go to Mexico City, Valdis,” she snapped.

  He went on as though she had not spoken. “Tomorrow, the seamstress will fit you for all the exquisite gowns you will need. This is the important high social season, my dear.”

  Amber sighed. “What does it take to get you to understand, Valdis? I have no intention of traveling to Mexico City with you.”

  “Oh, Amber.” He chuckled softly, as though she were a headstrong child. “Surely you have learned by now that everyone does my bidding. You will go if you have to be tied down in a carriage. Do not make things unpleasant for yourself.”

  The study door opened and Maretta stalked in, face flushed with anger. With a quick glance of hatred at Amber, she demanded, “Tell me it is not true, what I have heard from my seamstress. You have ordered her to make gowns for this one? You intend for her to go to Mexico City with us? Tell me it is not true. I insist!”

  “I tell you nothing!” Valdis leaped to his feet, his hand cracking across his half sister’s face. Maretta reeled backward, sprawling into a chair.

  Amber gasped. She had never before seen a man strike a woman.

  “She will go with us, and I will listen to no complaints from you,” he raged as Maretta looked up at him tearfully. “How dare you question what I do?”

  Maretta pleaded, “Valdis, I do not want her there. Do I have to remind you what happened at the bullfight? She will bring shame upon us again.”

  He laughed. “What you fear is that all the men in Mexico City will have eyes for her and not you,” he taunted. He returned to his seat as Maretta stared after him, rubbing the welt on her cheek.

  Pouring himself a drink, he went on. “You have nothing to fear. When the announcement is made at the President’s Ball that Amber is to become my wife, the men will turn from her to you.”

  Amber cried, “You will do nothing of the kind, Valdis, because I will not marry you. And if you dare to do such a thing, I will embarrass you and your family by screaming that you are a liar.”

  Swirling the deep scarlet liquid in his glass, Valdis stared down into it, and the colors reflected in his eyes.

  Maretta turned on Amber. “You have no gratitude! My brother offers to marry you, to make you a decent woman, to give you a life other women would envy, and you dare say no! And you, Valdis”—she sneered—”you are a fool to think you will ever be accepted socially. Have you forgotten you are always excluded from all the best parties? My mother and I are invited to them all out of respect for your father, but you are considered a blemish on his honor, for you will not fight in the ring. Yet you think because you bring this silver-haired gringa, you will be accepted?” She shook her head vehemently as she said triumphantly, “No. You fool yourself.”

  Amber cringed as Valdis sent his wineglass crashing against a wall. Towering over Maretta, he railed, “You will provoke me into tearing the flesh from your worthless back! Now go! Get out of my sight before I lose control.”

  Maretta scurried from the room, but when she reached the doorway, and freedom, she straightened and retorted shrilly, “You will see! You will see that I am right! You will never be accepted. Everyone knows you for the coward you are. Only a coward would beat a woman and torture children!”


  He took a step toward her, and she screamed and fled. Laughing, he turned to Amber and gestured apologetically. “You must forgive Maretta. She has not been herself since she found Armand Mendosa an unwilling groom. All that will soon change, however. I had a long talk with Señor Mendosa recently, and he is learning that it would be wise to honor the arrangement his parents and ours made long ago.”

  Amber knew the remark was intended to rile her, so she allowed it to pass.

  “Now then,” he said, sitting down once more and smiling, “we shall argue no more about Mexico City.”

  “Perhaps you can force me to go, but you cannot force me to marry you, Valdis,” Amber pointed out again. “And if you do embarrass me by announcing our engagement, then I will have no choice but to embarrass you by denying it.”

  She waited for his anger and was surprised when he smiled pleasantly and murmured, “That would not be wise, querida. You see, Maretta is quite disturbed by Armand’s infatuation with your rare, exquisite beauty. I do my best to control her, but I am afraid that, despite repeated chastisement, she remains willful and headstrong. She has mentioned a certain convent that tames the spirits of wayward young women.

  “So you see”—he waved his hands—“I am giving you a choice, not forcing you, Amber. You will either marry me or go to the convent. The nuns will make you graciously accept the wonderful life I offer you.”

  Amber gripped the arms of the chair and leaned forward, fighting the impulse to attack the smug, smiling face. “Did it ever occur to you to just give me back the money you stole from me and let me return to America?”

  “No.” He chuckled, shaking his head from side to side in maddening deprecation. “That thought has not occurred to me. I am quite sure that it won’t. It is my intention to have you for my wife.”

  “You, sir”—she forced a tight smile as she rose—“can go to hell.”

  Valdis walked to the door and opened it. With a bow, he smiled. “I will give you until tomorrow morning to change your mind. If you still refuse to accompany me to Mexico City and to announce our engagement, then you leave me no choice but to notify the nuns that you are on your way.”