Louisiana 08 - While Passion Sleeps

by Shirlee Busbee

  Beth sensed the moment his mood changed and, fighting against herself as much as Rafael, she con-trarily attempted to avoid his kiss, but he had her too firmly entrapped, the sombrero fluttering to the flagstones as he brought his other hand up to capture her opposite shoulder. Caught in his strong arms, Beth was helpless against the hungrily seeking mouth which thoroughly explored hers, his tongue forcing its way between her teeth, probing and darting, exciting, inflaming even as it enraged. What little control she had on her suddenly unruly temper evaporated and like a

  small, snared wildcat, she began to fight, twisting and turning, her fists beating ftiriously against him in her violent struggles to escape. Rafael only tightened his embrace, his mouth roaming fi-eely across her face, leaving burning kisses that seared her temple and cheeks.

  "English, English," he murmured into her neck, his tongue gently tracing a faint blue vein whose frantic pounding betrayed her susceptibility to his lovemaking. "I did warn you in New Orleans, didn't I? I seem to recall that I cautioned you to stay out of my territory... and that if you intruded into my life I would treat you as you deserved. You didn't heed me, did you?"

  Beth stiffened in his arms, her furious fight to free herself ceasing abruptly. "If you will just listen to me!" she cried indignantly. "I didn't follow you out here and I had no idea that Sebastian was related to you! Do you honestly think that I would have intentionally sought you out after four years!" The violet eyes disdainful, she asked hotly, "What kind of a conceited fool do you take me for? I am not, nor have I ever been the type of creature that you think. Your wife arranged for you to find Lorenzo and me! And if you would just stop being so eager to believe ill of me, I could explain exactly what happened that afternoon."

  At first Rafael seemed to be listening intently to her, his eyes fastened piercingly upon hers, and Beth had taken hope that at last the vicious misconception could be clarified. But as soon as she mentioned that ghastly afternoon, his face closed up and a sardonic expression crept into his eyes. His lips slanting with a mirthless smile, he slowly shook his head. "No, English. Don't. That subject is as dead as Consuela, and I do not want to discuss it—ever!"

  Beth drew a shaky breath as a dreadful feeling of defeat spread through her. He was so implacable, so determined not to believe her, that she knew with a sickening lurch of her heart that it was useless to persist—Manuela had been right, he would never accept the truth. Fighting back an inexplicable urge to cry, she said quietly, "Very well. If you will not listen, if you have your mind so stubbornly set against me, then

  we do indeed have nothing to discuss. As that appears to be the case, I would appreciate it if you would allow me to return to my rooms."

  "Certainly. I was about to suggest that we adjourn to either your room or mine so we can finish what we just started in comfort and privacy." A crooked smile lifting one corner of his mouth, he added, "There is little that I may do that would shock my family, but awakening and finding me making love to one of their guests in the middle of the courtyard might discompose them a little."

  Unable to believe that she had heard him correctly, but very much afraid that she had, Beth stared at him with growing uneasiness. "You don't mean—! I don't want you to—!" Gathering her scattered wits, she finally got out: "Sefior, if you think I have any intention of allowing you the liberties you took in New Orleans, you very much mistake the matter! I intend to return to my rooms—alone! I do not want or need or even desire your company!"

  Rafael only smiled, a smile that was not reflected in the gray eyes. "No, madame, you mistake the matter! I have been a long while without a woman and, considering how free you are with your favors—what is one more man?"

  Whatever leash Beth had placed on her temper vanished, and before she had time to consider the repercussions, her open palm connected with gratifying satisfaction against Rafael's lean cheek. "You animal!" she spat furiously, the violet eyes blazing with outrage and fury.

  She was incredibly lovely as she stood slim and straight before him, the fair hair falling around her shoulders, the long gold-tipped lashes intensifying the amethyst blue of her eyes, and the small bosom heaving with resentment. For just a moment Rafael felt something tighten and coil agonizingly in his gut, and because of that, because he was perhaps caught off guard by his own emotions, he didn't strike her back as he would have done normally. Instead, with a smothered oath he swung her up in his arms. "I think this conversation has gone on long enough," he snarled. "And

  I hope to Grod Dona Madelina has placed you in the gold rooms where she does most guests, because, sweetheart that's w^here we're going! Pray, English, that your husband does not share your bed this night, because if he does I am positive we are all in for an enlightening scene." And with that his mouth trapped hers, effectively stopping the scream that was rising in her throat. Beth strained frantically to escape him, but she was helplessly caught up in his arms. Ignoring her muffled cries, oblivious of her furious thrashing. Rafael sauntered almost leisurely to the gold rooms. Neither of them was aware of an astonished and disbelieving Sebastian who stood transfixed in the doorway of his rooms.

  Sebastian hadn't been certain what woke him. With an inbred curiosity he had gotten out of bed and pulled on a pair of trousers, then opened the door to his suite of rooms. Glancing out into the courtyard, he saw that Rafael had arrived; he hadn't really even noticed Beth's presence before Rafael had swooped her up in his arms and carried her like a piece of booty out of sight. His mouth falling open in dumbstruck amazement, he stood there for several seconds not quite believing what he had seen.

  Completely unaware of Sebastian's view of them, upon reaching the door of the rooms he wanted, hardly halting in his stride, almost carelessly Rafael kicked open the door and once inside slammed it shut with a powerful thrust of his shoulder.

  Leaning comfortably against the door, Rafael slowly released Beth, letting her slender body slide dowTi the length of his hard muscles. Imperceptibly the pressure of his mouth slackened and, no longer hurting her. the firm lips began to explore her mouth, his tongue once again forcing its way into the inner sweetness.

  ''Mmm, English, I think I have missed you," he said finally, raising his head slightly, the gray eyes nearly black with passion.

  Beth drew a long shuddering breath, her emotions in such a turmoil that she couldn't begin to think coherently. To her burning mortification, she discovered that Rafael still exercised an unfair power over her body. She hungered for the feel of his body next to hers,

  and his deliberately arousing kisses went to her head like fine wine. She knew she should fight against him, knew that even now she should scream and alert the house, but in her hidden heart she didn't want to—she wanted him, and at the moment nothing else mattered very much but that Rafael was here and she was in his arms.

  But she did make one last attempt. Her voice hardly above a whisper, she said, "Rafael, please don't do this to me. Please leave these rooms and allow me to keep my pride—it-it isn't asking a great deal of you."

  His eyebrow rose mockingly. "Since when have whores had pride?" he sneered, very clearly remembering her in Lorenzo's armsl "No, English, I will not leave nor will I be deterred from having that lovely little body of yours." His eyes hardening, he added, "If you find me too repugnant after all your other lovers, close your eyes and imagine I am your husband."

  Beth's gasp of outrage was lost as Rafael's mouth urgently sought hers and angrily she fought against the treacherous leap of her pulse as his warm lips moved with growing hunger on hers. She wanted to resist him, wanted, not so surprisingly, to slap his arrogant face again, but she had no defenses against the potent magic he wreaked upon her awakening senses—her body betraying her—and with a small moan of defeat her arms closed around his hard body and she returned his kisses ardently, reveling in the feel of his muscled chest against her breasts.

  His lips never leaving hers, Rafael swept her up in his arms once again and carried her into the bedchamber. With
a strange gentleness he laid her on the wide bed, his own body resting lightly on hers. Then, pushing himself away, swiftly, yet with controlled deft movements, he began to strip off his clothes, his eyes always on Beth's enchantingly flushed features.

  Wanting to look away but driven by some inner need, Beth watched him. She had never really seen a naked man before, and now she found herself intensely curious about the male body—especially this male body!

  Rafael, with his Comanche blood and upbringing, was indifferent to nakedness and there was, as in most

  of his actions, almost an arrogant pride in revealing himself to the woman who lay on the bed, her gaze oddly shy as it rested on him. He removed his boots first, the spurs jingling slightly as he tossed them aside, and with an emotion bordering on hysteria Beth was almost surprised that he didn't have the cloven hooves of Satan, so easily had he destroyed her desire to resist him. But from then on she had no time for such thoughts—instead she was caught and entrapped by the sheer magnificence of the tall masculine body before her.

  Rafael's shoulders were broad, the arms revealing their well-honed muscles with every movement he made as first the black chaqueta and then the calico shirt were shrugged off and his chest with its smooth, almost hairless width was bared, the bronzed skin hardly a shade different from the dark face above it. Her eyes widened with astonishment when a moment later he laid a wide, wicked-looking knife that had been concealed under his clothes on top of the shirt. Then, the muscles of his powerful upper torso bunching and rippling, with an abrupt, almost violent tug he undid the leather gun belt, and after a quick all-encompassing glance around the room he placed the gun on a nearby chair—far enough away from Beth, yet close enough should he need it in a hurry. Nearly mesmerized, Beth stared back at him, noting the lean stomach and the first beginnings of the line of black hair that disappeared tantalizingly beneath the worn calzoneras. There was no disguising his arousal underneath the snug fabric, yet when at last the calzoneras were discarded, Beth drew in her breath sharply at the sight of his rigid maleness jutting fiercely from the tangle of thick black curly hair. Suftering a sudden attack of agonizing embarrassment, she swiftly dropped her eyes, staring blindly at the long well-shaped legs.

  Time had seemed suspended as he had undressed, but when he joined her on the bed, Beth was instantly galvanized into frenzied action and she made one more frantic bid to escape him. As his arms reached hungrily for her, she suddenly twisted away, determined that if she could just reach the door that led to the courtyard, her own embarrassment aside, she would scream the

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  hacienda down. For one tiny second she thought she had succeeded in her attempt to elude him, her wild 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 with a feverish intensity, her clenched fists striking Rafael on the face and shoulders, her body jerking and writhing in a furious effort to throw him off, to escape the steel fingers and arms that were inexorably winning the war between them. She bit his ear in desperation and with a certain amount of guilty satisfaction she heard the muffled curse he gave before he freed himself from her small white 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 wildly thrashing 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 incredibly fair 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 almost irresistible lure of the soft rosy mouth. His eyes seemed to be riveted there for a long time, but then 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 unerringly 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 in an anguished tone of voice, knowing that at any moment she was going to lose complete control of herself and give in to the mortifying swirling ache of desire that had attacked her body at Rafael's first searing kiss.

  Rafael raised his head and sent her a cool, oddly assessing look. A half-mocking, half-rueful smile suddenly curving his full mouth, he shook his head and then, 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 strangely gentle kiss, unhurried and yet seeking and demanding at the same time, his tongue like a dart of fire thoroughly exploring and probing the inner sweetness. He captured her hands above her head while his other hand blatantly traveled over her slender body, methodically and determinedly 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 further, arousing expertly all the sleeping passions that she had held in check for so long. Yet she fought against it, trying desperately to ignore the hot, hungry emotions that suddenly clawed their way through her body. Liquid fire flowed in her veins and her body no longer paid any heed to the frantic signals that her brain was sending, her breasts aching to feel Rafael's mouth again and her hips unconsciously seeking him, her lips brazenly 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 dehberately broke down her fragile barriers, one by one. His hps were warm and firm and they cajoled, caressed and demanded that she surrender as they traveled from her softly bruised mouth across her jawline to nip half painfully, half caressingly at her earlobe, 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 now began a feather-light exploration of her body, first gently cupping one swollen breast, his thumb rhythmically brushing the nipple, and then slowly, toi^entingly, his hand slid down her body, caressing h^r silken skin as it went. Giving a small, strangled sound of defeat deep in her throat, Beth abandoned the unfair fight, her body melting into his, wanting now only to be possessed by him, to learn truly what it meant to be a woman.

  She had been half drugged with belladonna the first time he had taken her and the emotions and sensations she was experiencing now were in a sense all new, all frightening and intoxicating, and her body was both eager and apprehensive—wanting and yet fearful. And so when Rafael's hand continued its exploration, brushing lightly and tantalizingly across her flat stomach, seeking the softness of her inner thighs, Beth was totally 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 ge
ntly sliding along the inside of her thighs, willfully increasing the tight ache of anticipation that was spreading like wildfire through her blood.

  When at last he did touch her there between her thighs, his fingers almost tenderly 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 was creating such sweet havoc with hers, her hands moved restlessly, unceasingly in the tight hold that he still retained.

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  Rafael had no intention of freeing her this time, the savage Comanche hunter that was so much a part of him enjoying the sensual 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 an 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 and not able to touch him, not able to discover his body as she hungrily 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 as he deliberately brought her to a shuddering, begging peak of desire.