Louisiana 08 - While Passion Sleeps

by Shirlee Busbee

  But Beth was not the only one receiving pleasure from this half-rape, half-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 so incredibly beautiful, with her flawless features and moonbeam hair, the small, 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 almost devouring hers in his hunger, his free hand urgently, compulsively preparing the way for the deeply passionate mating of his body with hers.

  Her body trembling with the force of the sensual emotions so violently unleashed by Rafael's half-savage, half-tender lovemaking, Beth was drowing in a sea of such exquisite pleasure that helplessly a soft muted plea broke from her, "Oh, please, please..." —only, to

  her intense shame, it was for him to continue, not to stop!

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

  In almost stunned acceptance, Beth felt her body fill with him, the delicate softness forced to accommodate the warm, hard, invading shaft of living flesh. He lay lightly on her for a long moment, his breath coming in gasping, hurtful breaths as if he*^ere fighting to control himself, and Beth was overwhelmingly conscious of so many things about him—of the almost 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 unashamedly sensual assault on her body. Unaware that she did it, her mouth sought his longingly, and Rafael instantly pressed his lips almost savagely against hers, his tongue feverishly exploring her mouth.

  With a slow, tormenting pleasure he began to move on her, and instinctively Beth's hips rose to meet him, and as his movements quickened so did hers, until their bodies were meeting each other with a growing, flaming, driving urgency. Her head spinning madly, her body in the grip of such erotic abandonment that she became like a wild creature, her slender form writhed and twisted beneath the thrusting hunger of his, small animallike sounds of gratification coming from her throat. Suddenly, when she thought she could not bear the almost painful ache of pleasure that was coiling in her loins one moment longer, there was a wash of pleasure so intense, so achingly blissful that her entire body stiffened from it, her eyes flying open in a dazed breathless wonderment. Wave after wave of the most intense physical sensations she had ever experienced swept over her, her body feeling as if it had shattered into a thou-

  sand pieces of trembling, throbbing pleasure. 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, at last reached that pinnacle of pleasure and spilled himself inside her.

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  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Still' half-stunned by what she had just experienced, Beth remained motionless when Rafael released her arms and slid off her body, flinging himself face down beside her in the bed. Almost instantly, though, he reached up and captured the slender wrist nearest to him in an iron grip, as if even then he feared she would try to escape him. But at the moment 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 and insultingly, effortlessly foiled.

  It was silent in the room except for their soft, muted breathing, and almost 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 herself to think only of Nathan and their rapidly 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 seemed to wield over her usually calm and unruffled temperament.

  If only she had never decided to embark upon this undeniably mad journey none of this would have happened, she thought wretchedly. She and Nathan would have lived out their lives in platonic tranquillity, he following his way of life and she, if not happy, at least satisfied with her lot in life. Nathan's kindly, concerned face suddenly swam in her vision and she felt a knot

  of tears clog the back of her throat as she remembered many of the truly happy times they had spent together.

  "What are you thinking about?" Rafael asked abruptly, startling her into awareness that he still 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 that now he was propped up on one elbow staring intently down into her sad little face.

  She swallowed with difficulty before saying honestly, "My husband."

  The dark features froze, and Beth had the curious conviction that while her w^rds had infuriated him, they had also given him a shock. His wide mouth curling sneeringly at the corners, he snarled softly, "Afraid he might enter and find us together? Or were you comparing our sexual prowess?"

  Flooded with a sudden giddying burst of anger, Beth met his gray-eyed stare and retorted swiftly, "There is no comparison! In any contest that I could think of, Nathan Ridgeway would outstrip you with little or no effort. Now get out of my bed—and I shall do my utmost to be gone from here within the hour!"

  "No." He said the word flatly, unemotionally, the expression in the black-lashed eyes hidden and inscrutable.

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

  His gaze fixed on her soft mouth, he murmured huskily, "Fve changed my mind."

  "You can't change your mind!" she insisted angrily. "You can't!"

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

  "Why?" she demanded instantly, the violet eyes fixed warily upon him.

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

  Her jaw taking on a surprisingly mulish slant, Beth said mutinously, "Sebastian has nothing to do with this!

  And you can't stop me from leaving either! You dare not hold my husband and me against our will."

  ''No, perhaps not/' he said slowly, and something in the way he looked at her caused a shiver of apprehension to slide down her spine. Furious with herself for allowing him to even for one moment intimidate her, Beth began to struggle violently to free her wrist he still held captive, clawing recklessly at the hand that held her trapped, wanting nothing more than to be free of him in all ways. For several seconds Rafael dispassionately watched her frantic movements and then almost contemptuously he tossed her wrist away.

  Instantly Beth scrambled away, crouching'on the opposite side of the bed like a violet-eyed, silver-pelted spitting kitten. 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 a raging desire to feel that soft white body under his again. But with an effort he stilled the impulse to drag her into his arms and to lose himself in the beguilingly corrupt flesh, and instead of following his body's dictates he rolled away from her and rose lithely to his feet.

  Silently he began to dress, and after watching him in uneasy surprise for a moment, Beth asked cautiously, "What are you goin
g to do?"

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

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

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

  The urge to fly across the room and claw his mocking face warred with prudence, and hating herself for being so spineless where he was concerned, she stuttered, "M-m-may Nathan and I leave? Y-y-you said you wanted us gone."

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  "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 for 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 swift urgent gust of fury shook her, her chin raised defiantly and, the violet eyes flashing like amethysts, she spat, "You arrogant devil! Do you think that for one moment I shall remain under the same roof with you? How dare you dictate to me! You can't prevent us froni leaving any time we choose!"

  An odd smile on the lean face, his sparse beard darkening the granite jawline, h^, walked with that catlike grace over to the bed. Instinctively, and 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?"

  Wise for once in her dealings with him, she remained silent, knowing he could win any argument between them at the moment.

  "I think we understand each other," he murmured at last, when it was apparent that, though rebellious, 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 and said coolly, ''Adios, English. And 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... at least the first time today."

  The insolent words were almost more than Beth could stomach; her small hands clenched into fists and she glared at him, the violet eyes 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 Hps. His voice unexpectedly husky, he muttered under his breath, "I did miss you, English." Before she had time to recover from her shocked surprise he spun on his heels and walked from the room. He wasted little time in Beth's rooms,

  slipping quietly out the door that he had carried her through earlier. Silently and unobserved, he made his way to his own suite of rooms, which were 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. And usually 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. But Don Miguel disliked the humble cabin intensely, feeling, perhaps 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 so desperately to eradicate. And in his fashion Don Miguel was as stubborn as his son, and so, despite being aware that they would be used only once or twice in a year, he had 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 with every evidence of, if not enjoyment, at least acknowledgment of his father's attempts to lessen the distance between them.

  If it were 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 this time, Rafael had known that Sebastian would be waiting to see him, and so, 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.

  A wry twist to the mobile mouth, he admitted that Beth's presence had certainly put an end to any thought

  of sleep! He was still smiling when he entered the rather austere quarters set aside for his personal use. But the smile faded abruptly when Rafael discovered Sebastian, apparently comfortably seated in a squat, wooden chair, his booted feet propped negligently on a leather-bound chest, and one of Samuel Colt's new and extremely deadly revolvers pointed directly at the doorway where he stood!

  His face expressionless, Rafael halted and, half-hidden by the shadows, with the habitual wariness and stealth of an animal scenting danger, he slid the bowie knife into his hand. He didn't think Sebastian meant to shoot him in cold blood, bu^ just in case...

  Sebastian had obviously befen waiting for him, and as Rafael lingered in the shadows, his deep voice heavy with open aggression, he drawled, ''EntreZy mon ami. And you are wise to hesitate—my feelings for you at the moment are definitely not friendly." He paused, examining his emotions, and added, "Hostile comes nearest to describing them—that or murderous!"

  Eyeing the Colt revolver circumspectly, Rafael slowly eased into the room, taking his time, his brain coolly and methodically seeking a method to defuse the potentially deadly situation. If it had been any other man than Sebastian Savage pointing that pistol at him, there was no question what he would have done—one of them would be dead by now, and it wouldn't have been Rafael Santana!

  There was only one reason that made any sense for Sebastian's belligerent attitude, and with deceptive mildness Rafael questioned, "The woman? You saw us earlier?"

  Sebastian's full mouth thinned, and the green eyes glinting dangerously, he spat, "How very clever of you to guess! Did you also guess who she was? Is that why you seduced her? To make me think ill of her? I would like to hear your explanation before I send you to hell on a bullet!"

  Rafael's temper was uncertain at the best of times, and just now he was in no mood to indulge Sebastian's hurt, angry pride. He was, in fact, deathly tired after several exhausting days of hard riding to reach the

  hacienda; the interlude with Beth had not been exactly restful, nor had it improved his frame of mind. Finding one of the few people in the world that he cared for holding him at gunpoint did nothing to improve an already frayed temper, and Sebastian's demand for an explanation was the final straw. Ignoring the pistol aimed steadily at his heart, he snarled, "I don't give explanations, Sebastian. Not to you or anybody else! So if you're so hell-bent on trying to kill me—go ahead! But rest assured, you young fool, that I'll take you with me!"

  Slightly taken aback at the vehemence in Rafael's voice, Sebastian, his earlier aggression fading rapidly, blinked at him. "You really mean it, don't you?" he got out at last, never quite having found himself in this position before.

  "I never bluff, Sebastian. Never!'' Rafael returned in a hard voice. "So shoot me or put it away!"

  Sebastian moved uneasily on the wooden chair, wishing he had thought a bit deeper before plunging headlong into a confrontation with his much-admired cousin. Wounded, furious, and feeling betrayed by what he had seen, after dragging on his clothes he had stormed down to Rafael's quarters intending to do God knows what when Rafael would eventually enter them. An often uncomfortably romantic young man, Sebastian was determined to uphold his lady's honor and avenge the insult done to her by Rafael. But now, face to face with an obviously angry and implacable Rafael, he was very definitely caught in a precarious position�
��he certainly tiidn't intend to kill his cousin, but neither could he placidly back down—besides, Rafael did owe him some explanation. His face a study of conflicting emotions, Sebastian finally lowered the pistol and muttered doggedly, "I don't want to kill you, but I think you should at least tell me how it comes about that I find you and Beth in the situation I just saw not too long ago.

  Rafael relaxed slightly, the knife disappearing into his waistband. Absently he reached for a thin cigarillo from the pocket of his jacket, and when he finished lighting it from one of the whale-oil lamps that Sebas-

  tian had lit earlier, Rafael looked at the younger man. After inhaling deeply and expelling a cloud of smoke, Rafael countered smoothly, "WTiy don't you ask the lady? Fm sure she could explain it to your satisfaction."

  Sebastian was outraged. "Why, you bastard! I wouldn't dare discuss such a thing with her!"

  Rafael suddenly looked amused. "Why not? You might find it extremely illuminating." The amusement vanishing as quickly as it had appeared, he said thoughtfully, "I am not used to explaining myself to anyone, but considering the fact that Senora Ridgeway does have some special meaning to you, I will make an exception." He paused, not quite certain how much to tell, or how much he wanted to t^l, and finally he said slowly, "I suppose you could say that there is a previous— ah — bond between us — one that not only supersedes your regrettable attachment, but which makes your suit highly unlikely to prosper." The moment the words left his lips he was aware he had been uncommonly clumsy; he cursed silently under his breath. All he had accomplished, he could see from Sebastian's stiffening form, was to make Sebastian even more determined to prove him wrong. It had been like waving a scarlet cape in front of a young and spirited bull. Seeking to turn the situation to his advantage, picking his words with great care, Rafael said quietly, "We met four years ago in New Orleans, when I came to talk to Jason about the possibility of the annexation of the Republic to the United States. You remember the time, don't you?"