Valaquez Bride

by Donna Vitek

  "Do you get your thrills from life by teasing young men, Juliet?" Raul's deep voice interrupted her thoughts. As she spun around to face him, his hands gripped her upper arms then slid downward to remove hers from her pockets. He moved closer, pressing her against the paddock fence, his eyes glittering dangerously as he lifted her trembling hands up and pinned them against his broad hard chest. "You aren't really interested in Pablo but you aren't kind enough to simply tell him to leave you alone, are you? I was watching you with him. You don't get rid of a man by touching his cheek or smiling up at him, all wide-eyed and seemingly innocent. You only make him want you more and you know that."

  At the injustice of his accusation, Juliet blushed hotly and struggled to free herself from his iron-hard grip. Her attempts to escape were futile, however, and after a moment, she ceased resisting to stand stiffly before him, her eyes sparkling. "You always think the worst of me, don't you?" she accused huskily. "What do you suggest I do to make Pablo leave me alone? I've tried telling him I'm not romantically interested in him but maybe you think I should slap his face or do something else equally dramatic so he'll finally get the message. I was only trying to be nice to him; I don't want to hurt his feelings but here you are, accusing me of being a tease. Well, I'm not!" Her voice broke on the last word and her chin wobbled slightly as the anger in her eyes vanished to be replaced by rather vulnerable appeal. "Why can't I do anything to please you? What have I ever done to make you dislike me so much? Do you suggest I try to have a personality transplant? Or would you still dislike me, even if I could change myself completely?"

  Raul's lean features hardened. "Don't try your wiles on me, Juliet. You may get more than you bargained for. You know very well that I don't dislike you. I disapprove of you but I don't dislike you. In fact, I think I like you much more than I should."

  "You don't either," she whispered bleakly, her voice revealingly tremulous. "You—you act like you hate me."

  With a sudden roughly muttered imprecation, Raul pulled her to him, his muscular arms encircling her waist. Green eyes flared with passion as he gazed down at her and as her lips parted, his fingers tangled almost roughly in the silky hair that tumbled down her back. "God, you really know how to wrap a man around your little finger, don't you?" he groaned. "How can a boy like Pablo be expected to resist you, when I can't resist you myself?"

  "Raul, please, you're wrong about me, I…" Juliet's words broke off with a soft gasp as he swiftly lowered his head and tantalized her with firm seeking kisses over the madly beating pulse in her throat, up along the smooth line of her jaw. She trembled as shivers of awareness radiated out over every inch of skin in response to his caressing touch. The warmth of his flesh seemed to sear her through the thin fabric of his white shirt and her hands slipped inside his unbuttoned vest to stroke his lean sides. Her breath caught as he pressed burning kisses into the slight hollows of her cheeks, against her closed eyelids and along the creamy skin of her throat. Whispering her name, he caressed the delicate contours of her ear with the tip of his tongue, then nibbled the soft fleshy lobe until she moved eagerly against him. Making her wait, he alternately kissed first one corner then the other of her mouth. And when her small fingers tangled in the thick dark hair on his nape, his hard lips covered hers with hungry compelling swiftness. Juliet moaned softly; a keen aching flared to life deep within her and kindled fires that warmed and weakened her lower limbs as her slender arms encircled his neck.

  With a soft groan, he led her beneath the low boughs of the chestnut tree and lowered her to the soft bed of grass. His marauding lips explored the parted tenderness of her and his hand was still tangled in her hair, pillowing her head. The lean strength of his muscular body pressed her down into the springy mattress of turf and one long leg pinned both hers with evocative weight.

  Unfamiliar desires coursed through her, like fire in her veins as his tongue tasted hers. Her mouth opened slightly, eagerly and she arched against him.

  "I need you," he whispered huskily, lifting his dark head only to retake her lips, urgently at first, then with slow compelling gentleness, his plundering mouth possessing hers. His teeth closed on her lower lip, then the satiny skin of her throat, nibbling tenderly.

  Her body seemed to melt against his warmth as his hand trailed along the rounded side of her breast, down to her waist, and lower, to the gentle outsweep of her hips. Her heart leaped as he breathed her name against the madly beating pulse in her throat. Almost of their own volition, her fingers slipped inside his shirt, her nails catching in the fine dark hair on his chest as she traced the muscular contours of flesh and bone. He was so invitingly warm, so overwhelmingly male that she delighted in touching him as much as she delighted in being touched. "Coqueta, atormendatora," he muttered huskily, his lean hands grazing upward to cup her breasts. His fingers pressed gently into the cushioned fullness; his palms brushed slowly back and forth over the straining aroused peaks. A tremor shook her slight body and his lips hardened on hers for a tantalizing moment, then he lifted his head slightly. Leaning on one elbow beside her, he brushed her tousled hair back from her cheeks. As her eyes flickered open, then were lost in the hot glow burning in his, he pushed aside the straps of her shirt, baring creamy smooth shoulders to kisses that he pressed into the delicate hollows. His lips sought the slight curving of her breasts above her bodice, then the scented shadowed hollow between, arousing desires in her she had never before experienced.

  Trembling fingers explored his lean face, tracing the sensuous outline of his lips and as he caught one fingertip between his teeth, her drowsy gaze was captured and held by the spellbinding message of his. "Kiss me again," she whispered compulsively. And he did, with dizzying thoroughness, gently twisting her soft lips beneath his. She was yielding completely to his superior strength, almost lost in the moment, until his hands on her hips pressed her against the hardening ridge of his body, alerting her to the danger she was inviting. Inexperienced as she was, she knew what his response meant and she also knew she couldn't satisfy the desire his body was conveying. She struggled instinctively. "Don't. Don't!" she whispered imploringly. "Raul, please, let me go."

  "Atormentadora," he muttered again, more accusingly this time, but he released her and sat up. Raking his fingers through his hair, he allowed his dark gaze to sweep over her as she sat up too, then a self-derisive smile played over his lips. "Yes. You do know how to wrap a man around your finger. You know I can't criticize Pablo for wanting you, when I can't keep my hands off you myself."

  Juliet winced and reached out to him but he rose lithely to his feet and strode away, without a backward glance. As she watched him go, she stood also on unsteady legs, then leaned wearily against the rough trunk of the tree. A desolate expression settled on her delicate features and she closed her eyes with a soft moan. What was happening to her? How could she be so drawn to Raul when he thought she was a heartless little flirt, a tease? Pride alone should make it easy for her to resist his touch but it never worked that way at all and she was miserable. If only he felt more for her than a mere physical attraction, she wouldn't feel ashamed of her response to him. But he didn't and as she reminded herself of that fact, she drew a deep shuddering breath. Unshed tears burned behind her eyes; she felt as if she had been through an emotional wringer. And he had called her the tormentor.

  Chapter Six

  Will McKay strummed his fingers on the armrests of his wheelchair. As he stared out across the courtyard toward the pool, he shook his head and smiled ruefully. "So it was Pablo who was the villain in this situation. But I suppose I'm to blame too for believing him when he said you were in love with him but afraid to marry him because you didn't think you would ever fit into such an aristocratic wealthy family. I thought your fears were foolish and that's the only reason I tried to persuade you to accept his proposal —because I thought you really did want to marry him. You silly child, I never would try to push you into a loveless arranged marriage."

  Juliet leaned forward
in her rattan chair to squeeze his hand, releasing her breath in an exaggerated sigh of relief. "That's the best news I've heard in a long time. I really was confused last year when you kept insisting I marry him. You've always been such a romantic; then, all of a sudden, you seemed to be pushing me into an arranged marriage and you were so insistent about it, that I just decided to leave. I love you and I hated arguing with you all the time."

  Will smiled at her but his lips trembled slightly and there was a suspicious dampness in his eyes. At last, he cleared his throat and nodded. "I love you too, child. You must know that. I would have been a lonely old man the past nine years without you. I want you to know how grateful I am to you for the happiness you've given me."

  "Oh, Uncle Will," Juliet murmured, her own voice thick with emotion as he stroked her cheek. "You have no reason to be grateful to me; it's the other way around. I owe you everything. Without you, I would have been a real orphan." Her expression became regretfully pensive and she chewed her lower lip. "I just wish I hadn't run away last year. I should have stayed; we could have talked and straightened out our misunderstanding. I'm really sorry now that I left the way I did."

  "I'm sorry too, and I hope you didn't get involved with that disreputable rock singer simply because you were upset with me," Will said, his tone sharpening. "You should have known your relationship with him wouldn't last."

  "Oh, no, not you too," Juliet groaned, then shook her head emphatically. "Uncle Will, I never was involved with Benny the way you obviously think. He was and still is just a very dear friend. Why does everybody assume he and I were—uh, living together for the past eleven months?"

  "You mean you weren't?"

  "No! Absolutely not!"

  "Oh, thank God," Will breathed, relaxing back in the wheelchair. He raked his fingers through his thinning gray-brown hair, then gave Juliet a somewhat stern stare. "But I don't think you should be surprised that everyone assumes you and this Benny fellow were romantically involved. What else could we all think? When a young man and woman run off together, it's usually because they think they're in love. Isn't it?"

  "Well, yes, I guess so," she conceded reluctantly, then spread her hands in a resigned gesture. "It just never occurred to me that everyone would jump to that conclusion, maybe because I've never had any romantic feelings for Benny."

  "I'm glad to hear you're not completely lacking in good taste then," Will responded with an unusual lack of tolerance. "That is a very shabby young man. And I guess he sings obscene lyrics to the accompaniment of loud, disharmonious noise he calls music."

  "No, he doesn't as a matter of fact. He happens to be a very talented guitarist and his repertoire of Old English and Early American ballads and folk songs is extensive. He's a very popular performer in coffee houses, especially now that Holly's singing with him."

  "Who's Holly?"

  "Benny's wife. He married her about a month after we left Granada last year," Juliet explained, then proceeded to tell him all about her traveling companions, ending with Holly's confinement in the hospital.

  By the time she had finished, Will's opinion of Benny had changed completely. "Well, I can see I misjudged that young man," he said with an apologetic grimace. "I guess it was that unkempt hair and those patched jeans that gave me the wrong impression. Think you can forgive an old man for being so prejudiced?"

  "I think I can," Juliet assured him. "I suppose we all have our little prejudices."

  "Umm, I suppose," Will murmured absently, stroking his chin with his thumb and forefinger. He shifted his position, taking care not to jostle his leg cast. "Well, I'd like to do something for Benny and Holly. If she's going to have to stay in the hospital for several weeks, the bill's going to be outrageous. Could I—do you think they'd let me help them pay it?"

  "I doubt it," Juliet answered honestly. "Benny wasn't even very receptive to my offer of help. But I finally persuaded him to let me use some of my trust fund if they really need money."

  "Your trust fund?" Will exclaimed, shaking his head. "No, honey, you come to me if Benny and Holly need help. I don't want you making withdrawals from your trust fund." He smiled teasingly. "After all, it'll make a very nice dowry."

  "If I have to pay a man to marry me, then I'll just stay single, thank you," she replied pertly, then pretended to be very hurt. "Besides, I didn't know I was such a disaster that I'd have to buy myself a husband."

  Her uncle laughed. "Judging by the way Pablo chases after you, you have nothing to worry about. I'm sure he'd be willing to buy you, if Raul would be willing to give him the money."

  "Hah! Well, then don't expect Pablo to be making any cash offers," Juliet announced rather resentfully. "Raul wouldn't give him a peso to buy me."

  Will eyed her speculatively. "You sound as if you think Raul doesn't like you? Why should you think that? I always thought he acted very fond of you."

  "Maybe he was a little fond of me. Last year. But—oh, it doesn't matter," Juliet evaded, forcing a cheery smile to her lips. "I've just thought of the perfect way to help Benny save a little money. We could let him stay at the house in Granada while we're staying here. That way, he won't have to pay for a hotel room. Would you mind if he stayed there?"

  "I think it's a fine idea," Will agreed happily, forgetting about Raul as Juliet had hoped he would. "In fact, Benny would be doing me a favor by staying there. Even in Granada, there are burglaries so it would be less likely to happen to us, if Benny stays at the house."

  "Terrific. If I tell Benny that, he'll be more likely to accept the offer."

  "Fine," Will said with a satisfied smile. "Well, now that's settled, how about playing some poker?"

  Juliet grimaced comically. "You wouldn't be willing to play Crazy Eights instead, would you?"

  "No. Poker. We won't bet since you're not a very proficient player yet."

  "That's an understatement if I ever heard one," Juliet quipped, watching warily as her uncle took a deck of cards from the side pocket of his wheelchair, shuffled them, then dealt them five cards apiece.

  "Now, this is called five-card draw," he informed her. "Remember?"

  "That much I remember," she answered wryly. "After that, I'm lost." Picking up her cards, she wrinkled her nose disgustedly. She had nothing except three hearts so she discarded a spade and a club and when Uncle Will dealt her two more cards, they weren't hearts so she still had nothing, not even a measly pair.

  Will won that hand with a pair of threes and during the next half hour, Juliet won only twice, once with a pair of tens and once almost by default because she held the high card when neither of them had hands worth anything. At last, however, she was lucky. Holding a pair of aces and a pair of queens, she thought she would undoubtedly win.

  Will, however, laid down three nines. "Sorry, honey," he said sympathetically. "But three of a kind beats two pairs."

  "Are you sure?" she muttered, staring at the cards on the wrought iron table. "That doesn't seem fair."

  Will chuckled indulgently, shuffled the cards and dealt again. This time, Juliet broke the cardinal rule of poker. Discarding one of the four spades she held, she hoped to be dealt a seven to fill out a possible straight. She didn't get the seven and when she laid down her cards in disgust, Will glanced up at her suspiciously. "You didn't discard a spade before, did you?" he asked hopefully and when she nodded, he groaned. "Oh, honey, why did you do that? One more spade and you would have had a flush and a flush always beats a straight."

  "It does? But I thought a straight beat a flush. Oh, I'm all confused."

  Will shook his head admonishingly, adding, "And never, never draw to an inside straight."

  "A what?" she exclaimed bewilderedly. "Oh, this is ridiculous. I don't even know what an inside straight is." As Will started to patiently explain, she shook her head and threw up her hands in defeat. "It's useless, Uncle Will, today at least. Maybe we could practice again tomorrow. Right now, couldn't we play something I understand, like Go Fish?"

  "Go Fish?"
he exclaimed softly, obviously not enthusiastic. But at last he nodded. "Oh, all right but just one…" His words halted and he smiled as Señora Valaquez stepped out into the courtyard and walked across the flagstone toward them, smoothing the skirt of her mauve linen dress.

  "Buenas tardes, Señor McKay, señorita," she said with a polite yet stiff little smile. "I wanted to come ask how you are feeling this afternoon. But I see you must be better, since you are playing cards. You are playing poker perhaps? That is a game my husband Fredrico and I sometimes played." She pursed her lips into a moue. "I must confess I was never very good at it."

  "That makes two of us," Juliet announced wryly, then impulsively added, "Would you like to join us, señora. We're about to play a game much simpler than poker, called Go Fish."

  "Go Fish?" the señora queried, frowning slightly. "Que es Go Fish? Is it a difficult game to learn, señor?"

  "Hardly," Will answered, chuckling. "The only objective is to make pairs. Please sit down and join us and I'll explain."

  To Juliet's amazement, Alicia Valaquez did join them and after a brief explanation of the simplistic rules, the game began. But they weren't allowed to finish. Will's nurse, an enormous woman with a perpetual scowl strode purposefully into the courtyard and made a bee-line for his wheelchair.

  "Is time for siesta, señor," she commanded rather than informed, pulling his chair away from the table the moment he laid down his cards. "Doctor say you need much rest."

  Will shot Juliet an apologetic glance. "Sorry to stop the game just when you were winning, honey."