While Passion Sleeps

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While Passion Sleeps Page 19

by Shirlee Busbee


  Time seemed suspended as he undressed, but when he joined her on the bed, Beth was galvanized into action and she made a bid to escape. As his arms reached for her, she twisted away, determined that if she could just reach the door that led to the courtyard, her own embarrassment aside, she would scream the hacienda down. For one second she thought she had succeeded, her unexpected movement catching Rafael off guard, and he delayed a heartbeat before springing upon her like a tiger on a fawn. Their bodies entwined, they rolled, twisted, and battled their way across the bed, the sheets and blankets tangling and coiling about them. Beth fought feverishly, her clenched fists striking Rafael on the face and shoulders, her body jerking and writhing in an effort to throw him off, to escape the steel fingers and arms that were winning the war between them. She bit his ear in desperation and with satisfaction she heard the muffled curse he gave before he freed himself from her teeth.

  They were breathing heavily, their breath intermingling even as their bodies did, until at last Rafael's much greater strength subdued Beth. His body trapping her against the bed, both her hands held tightly above her head in one of his, his other hand captured her chin and forced her head still. For a moment they were both motionless, the black-lashed gray eyes staring intently into the wide rebellious violet ones.

  For a timeless second Rafael's gaze searched her face, appreciating her disheveled beauty—the ash-blond curls tumbling in wild disorder across the pillows, the startling violet eyes with their long lashes, the faint pink flush of her cheeks, and the lure of the soft rosy mouth. His eyes were riveted there for a long time, before they dropped to the small firm breasts that had become exposed during the struggle. The cambric peignoir as well as her thin nightgown was twisted up around her hips. The front of the peignoir had been ripped open during their ensuing fight, and half of the tiny bows that held her nightgown closed had become loosened, causing that garment to give little protection from Rafael's roaming eyes. With tormenting slowness he lowered his head and gently, deliberately nuzzled the smooth skin between her breasts, breathing in the scent of her and tasting the honey of her flesh before his mouth sought and found one breast. In spite of her determination to deny him, Beth's entire body jumped with shocked pleasure at the touch of that warm seeking mouth on her breast, her nipples hardening into tight, aching rosebuds that unashamedly begged him to continue as his tongue flicked and teased first one and then the other.

  "Oh, please, please, stop!" she whispered, knowing that at any moment she was going to lose control and give in to the swirling ache of desire that had attacked her body at Rafael's first searing kiss.

  Rafael raised his head and sent her a look. A half-mocking, half-rueful smile curving his full mouth, he shook his head and the smile fading, he trapped her lips with his.

  He took his time kissing her, savoring the softness and warmth of her mouth. It was a gentle kiss, unhurried and yet seeking and demanding at the same time, his tongue like a dart of fire exploring and probing the inner sweetness. He held her hands above her head while his other hand traveled over her slender body, methodically undoing the rest of the peignoir and gown until the entire length of her was naked under him.

  His kiss was nearly Beth's undoing, the touch of his mouth inflaming her, arousing all the sleeping passions that she had held in check for so long. She fought against it, trying desperately to ignore the hot, hungry emotions that clawed their way through her body. Liquid fire flowed in her veins and her body no longer paid her wish to deny him any heed, her breasts aching to feel Rafael's mouth again and her hips unconsciously seeking him, her lips allowing him to ravage her mouth.

  She fought the silent battle within herself for as long as she could, but Rafael was no stumbling lover, no Nathan fumbling in the dark. He was an experienced man, a man who, when he wanted, knew how to please a woman; he was aware that Beth was fighting to remain indifferent and he deliberately broke down her fragile barriers, one by one. His lips were warm and firm as they cajoled, caressed and demanded that she surrender. Those beguiling lips traveled from her softly bruised mouth across her jawline to nip half painfully, half caressingly at her ear lobe, the tip of his tongue warmly searching out the shape and texture of her ear before returning with renewed hunger to her mouth. The one hand that had so expertly undone her clothing began a feather-light exploration of her body, first gently cupping one swollen breast, his thumb rhythmically brushing the nipple, and then slowly his hand slid down her body, caressing her silken skin as it went. Giving a small, strangled sob of defeat, Beth abandoned the unfair fight, her body melting into his, wanting now only to be possessed by him.

  She had been half drugged with belladonna the first time he had taken her and the emotions and sensations she was experiencing now were new, frightening and intoxicating; her body was both eager and apprehensive—wanting and yet fearful. When Rafael's hand continued its exploration, brushing lightly and tantalizingly across her flat stomach, seeking the softness of her inner thighs, Beth was unprepared for the jolt of raw desire that hit her. Uncontrollably her body arched and twisted under his touch and his mouth lowered to her breasts, his teeth grazing the throbbing nipples, his free hand sliding along the inside of her thighs, willfully increasing the tight ache of anticipation that spread like wildfire through her blood.

  When at last he did touch her there between her thighs, his fingers parting the silken flesh, probing and exploring, Beth gave a soft, shaken moan of pleasure. No longer wishing to fight him, wanting now only to caress and explore the long, lean body that created such sweet havoc with hers, her hands moved unceasingly in the tight hold he retained.

  Rafael had no intention of freeing her, the savage Comanche hunter that was so much a part of him enjoying the brush of her naked, thrashing body against his as she struggled to free herself. Another time, another place and he would revel in her caresses, but at this moment he wanted to conquer her—to make her want him as she had wanted no other man, to drive her as mad with passion as she had him and to punish and yet pleasure her at the same time.

  For Beth it was exquisite agony, his lips and roaming hand exciting and arousing her in a manner she had never dreamed, and yet she was held helpless in his iron grip, able only to experience, to feel, to yield, not able to touch him, not able to discover his body as she longed to do. Nor was she able to prevent him from doing exactly what he pleased with her slender body, his mouth like a flick of fire running hot and passionate over her heated skin, tasting and nuzzling her shoulders, her neck, her breasts, and even, to her astonished pleasure, her flat, trembling stomach, while the fingers of his free hand penetrated gently between her thighs, bringing her to a shuddering, begging peak of desire.

  But Beth was not the only one receiving pleasure from this seduction; Rafael, too, was aroused to a point he had never felt possible, and yet, strangely enough, with his body tight and raging with desire, he forced himself to hold back, to prolong the aching pleasure of anticipation. She was beautiful, with her flawless features and moonbeam hair, the slender body so perfectly formed, the skin so warm and silken to his touch, that he was like a starving man finding sustenance, his mouth devouring hers in his hunger, his free hand urgently preparing the way for the mating of his body with hers.

  Her body trembling with the force of the emotions unleashed by Rafael's half-savage, half-tender lovemaking, Beth was drawn in a sea of pleasure and a muted plea broke from her, "Oh, please, please..." To her shame, it was for him to continue, not stop.

  Rafael heard her involuntary words and with a low growl, he covered her body with his. Using both his hands to hold her arms on either side of her head, his knees nudged her thighs apart and the swollen length of him plunged into the warmth of her.

  In stunned acceptance, Beth felt her body fill with him, the delicate softness forced to accommodate the warm, invading shaft of living flesh. He lay lightly on her for a long moment, his breath coming in gasping breaths as if he were fighting to control himself, and Beth was consciou
s of so many things about him—of the aphrodisiac scent of the aroused male; of the faint hint of horses and tobacco that clung to him; of his lean chest, smooth and disturbingly hot against her breasts; of his long body, joined so intimately with hers—and a muffled moan of pleasure escaped her, wanting him to continue this sensual assault on her body. Unaware that she did it, her mouth sought his and Rafael pressed his lips against hers, his tongue feverishly exploring her mouth.

  With tormenting pleasure he moved on her, and Beth's hips rose to meet him; as his movements quickened so did hers, until their bodies were meeting each other with a driving urgency. Her head spinning, her body in the grip of erotic abandonment, she became like a wild creature, her slender form writhed and twisted beneath the thrusting hunger of his, small animal-like sounds of gratification coming from her throat. When she thought she could not bear the ache of pleasure coiling in her loins one moment longer, an achingly sweet wash of pleasure flooded through her. Her body stiffened from the force of it, her eyes flying open in a dazed wonderment. Wave after wave of sensation swept over her, her body feeling as if it had shattered into a thousand pieces of bliss. She knew she groaned deep in her throat, but she couldn't control it any more than she could control the shudder Rafael's body gave when he, too, reached that same pinnacle and spilled himself inside her.

  Chapter 13

  Stunned by what she had experienced, Beth remained motionless when Rafael released her arms and slid off her, flinging himself face down beside her in the bed. He captured the slender wrist nearest to him in an iron grip, as if even then he feared she would try to escape him. But Beth was too bewildered by her body's responses to his lovemaking to do more than make a token attempt to free herself from him, an attempt that was easily foiled.

  It was silent in the room except for their muted breathing, and blindly Beth stared up at the white ceiling above, wondering at the ease with which her previously well-ordered life was falling in shambles about her. She had lied to her husband for the first time in their marriage just this past evening, and now, merely hours later, she had betrayed him physically. That she had also learned what was really meant by "making love" she pushed to the back of her mind, willing to think only of Nathan and their deteriorating relationship. Of Rafael, lying naked and disturbingly vital at her side, she refused to think; she would not speculate on the power this man wielded over her.

  If only she had never decided to embark upon this mad journey none of this would have happened, she thought wretchedly. She and Nathan would have lived out their lives in platonic tranquility, he following his way of life and she, if not happy, at least satisfied with her life. Nathan's kindly, concerned face swam into her vision and she felt a knot of tears clog her throat as she remembered many of the happy times they had spent together.

  "What are you thinking about?" Rafael asked abruptly, startling her into awareness that he lay by her side.

  She had been so lost in her own miserable thoughts that she hadn't noticed when he had changed positions, and she discovered he was propped up on one elbow staring intently down into her face.

  She swallowed before answering, "My husband."

  The dark features froze; Beth had the curious conviction that while her words infuriated him, they also shocked him. His wide mouth curling into a sneer, he snarled softly, "Afraid he might enter and find us together? Or were you comparing our sexual prowess?"

  Flooded with anger, Beth met his gray-eyed stare. "There is no comparison! Nathan Ridgeway is a kind, understanding gentleman, not, not a savage. Now get out of my bed—I shall be gone from here within the hour."

  "No." He said flatly, the expression in the black-lashed eyes hidden.

  Bewilderment flashing across her features, Beth blurted, "But you said—you said that we must leave immediately. You demanded it."

  His gaze fixed on her soft mouth, he murmured, "I've changed my mind."

  "You can't change your mind. You can't!"

  A thick black eyebrow soaring mockingly, Rafael contradicted her. "I not only can, English, I have."

  "Why?" she demanded, the violet eyes wary.

  "Let's just say that I would rather keep you in sight until I'm certain Sebastian has gotten over his unfortunate attachment."

  "Sebastian has nothing to do with this! You can't stop us from leaving. You dare not hold us against our will."

  "No, perhaps not." Something in the way he looked at her sent a shiver of apprehension sliding down her spine. Furious with herself for allowing him to intimidate her, Beth struggled to escape, wanting nothing more than to be free of him. For several seconds Rafael watched her before tossing her wrist away.

  Beth scrambled away, crouching on the opposite side of the bed like a violet-eyed, spitting cat. The unfastened peignoir and gown barely hid her body, the smooth alabaster skin and the taut, rose-tipped breasts tantalizingly exhibited to Rafael's narrowed-eyed gaze. My God, but she was lovely, he thought with a sharp intake of breath, feeling himself harden with desire to feel that soft white body under his again. With an effort he stilled the impulse to drag her into his arms and to lose himself in the beguilingly flesh, and instead of following his body's dictates he rolled away from her and rose to his feet.

  He began to dress, and after watching him in uneasy surprise for a moment, Beth asked, "What are you doing?"

  Glancing over his shoulder as he pushed the calico shirt down into the calzoneras, he said dryly, "Clothing myself. What does it look like I'm doing?"

  Beth flushed angrily. "I mean, what are you going to do about—me?"

  "I haven't decided," he returned, as he sat down on a nearby chair and yanked on his boots.

  The urge to fly across the room and claw his mocking face warred with prudence and stiffly, she asked, "May Nathan and I leave? You said you wanted us gone."

  "I also told you that I'd changed my mind," he said in a hard voice. "I think it would be wisest, English, if you remained here a few days before departing. I'll let you know when I think the time has come for you to leave the hospitality of my father's roof."

  A gust of fury shook her, her chin raised and the violet eyes flashing, she spat, "You arrogant devil! Do you think for one moment I shall remain under the same roof with you? How dare you! You can't prevent us from leaving any time we choose."

  An odd smile on the lean face, his sparse beard darkening the granite jawline, he walked with that catlike grace over to the bed. Furious with herself for doing so, Beth retreated as far away from him as she could. Rafael stared at her for a long moment and then reached over and captured her chin in one hand. He said just one word, "No?"

  She remained silent, knowing he could win any argument between them at the moment.

  "I think we understand each other," he murmured, when it was apparent that Beth had nothing to say. He turned away and, after strapping on his gun belt, he swung around and gave her a mockingly formal bow. "Adios, English. Unless you want the entire hacienda to know what just occurred here, I would suggest that when we next meet you pretend that it's for the first time... the first time today."

  The insolent words were almost more than Beth could stomach; her hands clenched into fists, she glared at him, hating him.

  For a second longer Rafael regarded her from across the room, then, a crooked smile twitching at the corners of his mouth as if he knew how much she would like to claw his eyes and found it amusing, he walked over to her and kissed her hard on the lips. His voice husky, he muttered, "I did miss you, English." Before she recovered from her shocked surprise he spun on his heels and walked from the room. He wasted little time in Beth's rooms, slipping out the door he had carried her through earlier. Unobserved, he made his way to his own suite of rooms situated at the end of the wing which contained Beth and Nathan's apartments.

  Rafael was seldom at the hacienda, seldom in the area except for the few times during the year the ranch or his father demanded his attention. When he did return to the family estate, he stayed in a small cabin
he had built himself some years ago, which was situated a few miles from the hacienda—near enough to suit his needs, yet far enough away from the stifling formality of the hacienda upon the occasions of Don Felipe's now-infrequent visits. Don Miguel disliked the humble cabin, feeling rightly that Rafael kept it as a barrier between himself and the remainder of the family, as if to point out the very differences that his father with patience and love had tried to eradicate. In his fashion Don Miguel was as stubborn as his son, and despite being aware that they would be used only once or twice in a year, he insisted that a set of rooms be maintained for Rafael's pleasure. To Don Miguel's surprise and gratification, he discovered that as long as Don Felipe was not in residence, and when Rafael's stay would be brief, his renegade son occupied the suite of rooms, acknowledging his father's attempts to lessen the distance between them.

  If not for Sebastian's presence, Rafael would not have been in the area; he was too preoccupied with the Comanche problem to waste precious time dancing attendance on a family that could, he felt, do very well without him—as they had for some fifteen years while he had been a captive of the Comanches. But Rafael had known that Sebastian would be waiting to see him, and in spite of the late hour, he had intended to slip into bed, snatch a few hours of greatly needed sleep, and be here in the morning when Sebastian awoke.

 

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