My abuela,” he said. My grandmother was the only family, besides my brother, that I had.”
“She remained with you when you became an outlaw?”
“She did most of the time. Later, in the end, she stayed with my brother. She told me that he needed her more than I did. She was right, so I didn’t argue with her over it, though I regret I didn’t.”
He’d never told anyone about that regret and he didn’t know why he did now, but then Crista had become much too easy to talk with about anything.
“Your brother didn’t treat her well?”
That was another thing he liked about her—she was perceptive. Unlike most women, her thoughts weren’t only centered on herself or what she could learn that would prove advantageous to her.
“My brother wasn’t a good man.” That was all he was willing to say. The less she knew about him, the better for her.
With his hood off, Crista felt that it also did away with an invisible shield he had erected around him. It allowed her to see his brow tighten in annoyance when something sparked his temper. Or the way his mouth tightened in a pause when he gave thought before responding to her. She realized she was learning more about Diablo than perhaps was wise. Yet, it didn’t stop her.
She went right on chatting. “From the letter my mother sent me, I think my brother grew into a good man despite what happened to him. Unless that’s what she wants to believe.”
“What makes you say that?”
Crista shrugged. “I don’t truly know my mother and father. My mother was the only one to write to me and only twice a year. Her letters encouraged me to work hard and learn and as I got older her letters reminded me how important it was I learn the qualities of a good wife so she could arrange a beneficial marriage for me. Not once did she say how much she missed me and she never once wrote that she loved me.” Light laughter spilled from her lips. “When I have children, they’re going to grow tired of me hugging them and telling them every day how much I love them.”
“Even though your parents treated you as they did, you still want children of your own?”
She laughed harder. “I was welcomed into a family of eight children and saw how happy a large family can be. Not that there weren’t squabbles amongst them, but there was also lots of love and laughter and that’s what I remember and miss the most.” Though she smiled, tears tickled at her eyes. “My heart broke the day I had to bid them all farewell, knowing I’d never see any of them ever again.”
“You were lucky to have them for the time you did.”
“I was,” she agreed. “And I’m so ever grateful for it. Do you want children?”
Her question startled him. “I’m an outlaw. What life could I give a child?”
It was the perfect time to ask him what she had thought on this morning. “What life will you have now that your people are gone? Where do you plan to go? What do you plan to do?”
“You ask too many questions?” he scolded.
Her laughter turned light once again. “A habit of mine you should be used to by now.”
“Believe me, mi amor, I have grown used to you.”
His response surprised her as did the flare in his eyes, a heat of sorts or was that a spark of passion she saw there? Hadn’t she seen that in Ricardo’s eyes at times when he had looked at Lucia?
Careful, Crista, she silently warned herself.
“Where will you go after you return me home?” she asked suddenly needing to know what would happen to him.
“That does not concern you.”
His harsh tone and the emptiness that returned to his dark eyes told her he would say no more. She struggled with the thought that he would be here in the mountains all alone. It hurt her heart to think that and that worried her. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she’d developed feelings for this man. As foolish as it was, she cared what happened to the devil.
The devil’s lies will lead you down a path of no return and once you travel there and, he steals your heart, your soul will belong to him forever.
Sister Bernadette’s words rang in her head. Had she been foolish and traveled down that path? Had the devil somehow stolen her heart. Did she now belong to him?
Chapter 13
Crista woke to the crackle and snap of the fire. She turned on her side with a stretch and saw that the fire had burned down considerably. Between that and still feeling tired, she didn’t think it was close to sunrise yet. She turned her head toward the door where she’d last seen Diablo sitting with his back to it. It was where he had intended to sleep. She hadn’t worried about being here in the small shack alone with him. He had had ample opportunity to take advantage of her before now and hadn’t, so it was unlikely he would do so. Besides, he had reminded her time and again that he’d see her returned home safely.
She scrunched her eyes trying to make out his form and having difficulty seeing him, she sat up quietly, not wanting to wake him.
She sprang out of bed, tucking the blanket around her, when she saw that he wasn’t there. She hurried a glance around the room, a senseless effort since the room was far too small for her not to have already seen him. She warned herself not to panic. He’d probably stepped outside for a moment.
But why and how long had he been gone?
She shook her head. “Don’t be foolish. He wouldn’t leave you here alone.”
But what if something had happened to him? What if Vega’s men had found him and taken him captive? What if he didn’t return? How would she ever find her way off the mountain?
“Stop it!” she scolded herself.
It could be something as simple as him stepping outside to see to his needs.
That thought vanished quick enough when her eyes went to the mantel and she saw that his shirt and shroud no longer hung there. His boots and trousers weren’t anywhere to be seen either. He wouldn’t need to wear his shroud at night when it was dark unless it was necessary.
Her hand went to her stomach, fear churning it.
She started pacing in front of the door, thought after thought rushing through her mind and growing her fear. She finally came to an abrupt halt, shaking her head. It was night and there was nothing she could do at the moment, but wait and see what sunrise brought. If he hadn’t returned by then, she would decide what to do. Until then, there was nothing she could do.
The screech of an animal somewhere out in the night had her jumping. Or was it an animal? Could it be a screech of someone in pain, someone suffering? It came again and she jumped again, and this time she convinced herself it was an animal.
She had given thought to what animals made the San Gabriel Mountain their home. She knew to be careful of snakes and had seen lizards, but she had only heard the roars of larger animals on occasion. Then, of course, there were the outlaws who most would consider animals as well. How would she ever get home on her own with so many perils to face?
She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing the chill from them. She started pacing again, which didn’t help. It only grew her worry as time went by.
It seemed like hours had gone by when a sound outside ended her pacing. She hurried to her boots by the fire and snatched a knife from inside one. She’d take no chances.
She stepped away from the door, into what shadows she could find, as the sound drew near.
A slight creak alerted her to someone opening the door and inch by slow inch it continued to open.
She raised the knife ready to defend herself if necessary.
A figure finally slipped past the door and she almost sighed when she saw he wore the shroud. But what if it wasn’t Diablo beneath it?
She kept the knife raised and stepped out of the shadows. She had no time to react. Diablo’s hand shot out fast grabbing her wrist and with a slight twist the knife dropped from her hand.
Instinct had her other hand shooting out to push the hood off his face and she let out a sigh and dropped her head on his chest. “I feared it might not be you.”
> His arms went around her, holding her close, as she trembled against him.
“I woke and you were gone,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and clinging tightly to him.
“Never, ever, let the thought cross your mind that I would leave you, mi amor.”
But he would leave her and that thought stabbed at her heart. How could she ache at the thought of leaving him? What was it Lucia had told her when she had asked about falling in love?
She heard the woman’s familiar laughter along with her words. Love is unpredictable and sneaky. It grabs your heart and refuses to let go. You’ll know when it finds you and you’ll never want to let go of it—of him.
At that moment, she didn’t want to let go of Diablo. She wanted his arms to remain around her, hold her close, keep her tight against him. Could she be in love with him? Did it matter if she was? They could never be together? It was a ridiculous thought. It was even more ridiculous to think that she had fallen in love with him.
She needed to step out of his arms and keep her distance from him. It was for the best. She raised her head off his chest as she went to take a step away from him and her eyes caught his and stilled her movements. She wasn’t sure what she saw there, but it stirred something inside her and she did the most unexpected thing—she kissed him.
He welcomed her kiss, though more ached for it. Ever since he had kissed her, he’d found himself wanting to kiss her again. He’d avoided looking at her luscious lips, since every time he did they tempted him and he worried where that temptation might lead.
Now with her lips so willingly seeking his, he succumbed even though a silent warning rang in his head.
Don’t do this. Don’t do this.
Her kiss so innocent in the way her lips pressed against his in a sweet demand, aroused him more than any kiss he had ever shared with a woman. And he wanted to taste as much as he could of her. He took control feeding along her lips with an urgency that demanded her response and she gave it, as hungry for the taste of him as he was for her.
A soft moan escaped her lips when his tongue forced them apart and darted in to toy and tease hers. He tightened his arm around her waist when he felt her body go limp against his. He lifted her so that her feet no longer touched the floor and rushed to brace her back against the closed door as he continued to kiss her senseless.
He couldn’t get enough of her and the way she responded to his demand she couldn’t get enough of him. This was madness and he knew and he didn’t care. He wanted Crista with an intensity that he’d never experienced with any woman.
Her arms went around his neck, clinging to him with a desperate need and she felt the blanket slip loose and fall free. She warned herself to stop this madness. Warned herself this wasn’t proper yet she couldn’t understand why it felt so right.
Her gasp stuck in her throat when his hand cupped her breast, squeezing it, then running his thumb over her nipple sending a rash of sensations threw her that seemed to spark her body to life. He had awakened something dormant in her. Something marvelous and wonderful. Something she wanted to explore, share, and revel in.
Her soft sensual moan welled up from inside her and slipped form her mouth into his. It rushed like liquid fire through him, the heat scorching his senses and igniting him in a blaze of passion.
Stop before it’s too late!
The warning tolled through his head like a never-ending bell. Never had he allowed his need to control him, but it wasn’t his need in control now, it was Crista. The thought had him tearing his mouth away from hers and his hand dropping away from her breast. He kept his arm snug around her waist and braced his free hand against the door as he eased his labored breathing.
He closed his eyes when he looked down along her naked. Her body’s luscious curves tempted and he warned himself not to look, not to open his eyes and give into temptation.
He slipped his arm from around her and stepped away, turning his back to her.
“Cover yourself.”
His command, Diablo’s command, snapped her back to her senses and she snatched the blanket off the floor and hastily wrapped it around her.
He had to put a stop to this. He couldn’t let it happen again. His tongue was sharp and harsh. “Don’t giveaway what belongs to your future husband.”
Crista’s head snapped back as if he’d slapped her in the face. How dare he scold her when he had been the one to first kiss her and stir parts of her she didn’t even know could stir. And how foolish of her to fall in his arms and surrender herself to the devil.
Her tongue lashed out at him. “Belongs? My body belongs to me and I will share it with whoever I please.”
She had no time to move or gasp, he was on her so quickly. He ripped the blanket off her, then had her up in his arms and dropped flat on her back in the bed and came down upon her before she could take a breath. His dark eyes pierced her with an anger that felt as if it scalded her and his hand went to her breast to pinch her nipple hard.
“Tempt me again, Crista, and you’ll find yourself on your hands and knees as the devil rides you with an unholy power.” He crushed his mouth against hers in a harsh kiss, then stood and turned his back to her. He went and scooped the blanket off the ground, turned, and threw it at her. “Then, Crista, your body will belong to the devil forever.”
Crista trembled as she hurried the blanket around her. Once done, she scooted back into the corner at the top of the bed and brought her knees up nearly to her chin.
She had allowed the devil to tempt her and now look what happened. He had led her into temptation and stolen her sound morals. He might be handsome and appear an honorable man without the shroud, but he was still the devil. There was no difference between the two.
Why then had his kiss felt so good?
She heard Sister Bernadette in her head. He’s the devil that’s why. He touched you with his evil and if you’re not careful he will own you… body and soul.
Crista rested her head on her drawn-up knees and wished she was back in Spain with those who truly loved her.
Diablo let out a deep breath once outside. He had known a raging anger throughout the years, but the anger that had pierced him when Crista had told him she would share her body with whoever she pleased was like a stab to his heart.
The thought that another man would lay his hands on her, kiss her, slip his tongue into her mouth, cup her breast in his hand and toy with her nipple filled him with a fury he feared he wouldn’t be able to contain.
“Don’t. Don’t,” he warned himself, but he couldn’t stop the image that flashed in his mind, the stab to his heart growing more brutal. Another man resting between her legs, slipping into her, filling her, spilling into her had him groaning to keep from roaring out his fury.
He shouldn’t have stopped himself. He should have taken her there and then, leaving his seed to fill her belly.
He shook his head. What was he thinking? She had to be returned home safely, untouched, not with an outlaw’s child growing in her belly. He shook his head again. Her abduction had disrupted his plans. He laughed quick and low. It hadn’t been the unexpected abduction that had caused the problem. It was his attraction to her that was the issue and the fact that his loins ached for her with an intensity that overpowered.
He had had to make it clear to her to keep her distance from him, since he didn’t trust what he might do if she kissed him again. And from the way she had responded when he returned more than a kiss, he knew she wouldn’t deny him.
That would definitely upset the outcome he had planned.
He went and sat beneath one of the pine trees that blanketed the area, bracing his back against it, letting the anger drain from him. Crista had been a thorn in his side from when he had first rescued her. She jabbed at him, dug into him, stung him, forcing him to feel, to open his heart he had long ago turned cold. It had been the only way to survive, and it had served him well.
He dropped his head back against the tree. He had survive
d things that would have broken many men, but the thought of never seeing Crista again left him feeling more desolate than he had ever thought he’d feel. That she had captured such a large chunk of him disturbed him beyond reason.
There was only one thing that gave him comfort.
What the devil wanted, the devil got.
Chapter 14
Two days with barely a word to each other and Crista thought she’d go mad. She was accustomed to talk, laughter, and a busy day. They’d been chores to see to, things to learn, fun to be had with her family in Spain. She missed them and probably always would.
Diablo approached where she sat under the big pine tree. He wore his shroud, the hood already covering his face. It meant he would leave her for a while as he had done yesterday. He had assured her he wouldn’t be gone long and he hadn’t been.
She’d wondered where he went, though she hadn’t asked. Today was different. Her tongue couldn’t take any more of the quiet.
“I know. You won’t be gone long,” she said when he stopped in front of her. “Where do you go?”
He crouched down and shoved his hood off his face. “It has nothing to do with you.”
“That doesn’t make me less curious,” she said, keeping control of her tone, not wanting the flutter in her stomach that turned quickly to a tremor rush up and be heard in her voice.
She wished she understood why she was so attracted to him. Even after his warning the other night, which he made abundantly clear and which should have settled everything for her, she still got these foolish flutters.
“If it helps, it is nothing to worry about,” he said.
She laughed. “It doesn’t help.”
“It will have to suffice.” He stood, a sign that he would say no more.
“Diablo,” she said as he turned to walk away.
He looked back at her.
It was on the end of her tongue to ask when he’d return, but she stopped herself. A few minutes, an hour, or more? What difference did it make as long as he returned to her?
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