The Spanish Outlaw

by Higgins, Marie

  When he covered her mouth, his sigh blended with hers. Timidly, she slid her hands around his waist, running her fingers along his muscles, which drove him mad.

  Urgency consumed him, and he slanted his mouth, deepening the kiss. She gasped, but responded the way he’d wanted; the way he’d been dreaming about for a week.

  He pushed her back on the bed. Tingling sensations danced over him. Her fingers moved to his chest, then climbed to his neck as she held his face to hers.

  He never wanted this moment to end… But a knock came on the door and jerked him to awareness.

  Still holding her in his arms, he cursed, hoping the intruder would pass. Her bosom rose and fell in a fast rhythm that matched his breathing. He inhaled her sweet jasmine scent. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against hers, enjoying their closeness for just a little longer.

  The knock came upon the door again. “Señor Contreras? I have your meals,” said the unknown voice.

  Vivian pushed Anton up until he met her eyes. “Does he have the wrong room?”

  “No.”

  “Then why did he call you Contreras?”

  “Do you not remember? While I am on this ship, my name is Anton Contreras.”

  “Oh, yes,” she answered, still breathless.

  Grudgingly, he pulled away and stood. She picked up her hair ribbon and began to fix her hair.

  He answered the door, and then took the trays of food from the porter. “Gracias.” Turning, he kicked the door closed with his boot. He placed them on the small table at the far wall, before glancing at Vivian. She sat on the bed with her eyes downcast as she fixed her hair. He sighed in frustration. It seemed impossible that once again something had thwarted his plans for holding Vivian, and enjoying her closeness to his heart’s delight.

  She had given him confusing, mixed signals. Did she indeed want his touch, his kiss? Did she enjoy them? Or, was she like the women back in New York who enjoyed teasing a man to insanity?

  “What smells so tasty?” Vivian asked without looking at him.

  He lifted the cover to one of the plates. “Looks like fish and some elegant potato dish.”

  She climbed off the bed and came toward him. Her lips held the swollen proof of his ardent kisses. He’d like nothing better than to pull her back into his arms and finish what he’d started. Unfortunately, the moment had passed, and he knew Vivian would never allow it to continue.

  Without meeting his eyes, she moved to the chair and sat. Poking the fork in the tender meat of the fish, she licked her lips. She brought the fork to her mouth and slipped the food inside, her lips closing around it.

  “Are you going to eat?” she asked, nodding toward the empty chair.

  “No, querida. I have suddenly lost my appetite.” He walked to the door and rested his hand on the doorknob.

  “Anton?”

  He glanced at her, his heart hammering in hopes she’d invite him back to partake of her passion once again.

  “Promise me you won’t kiss me in that manner again.”

  His dreams plummeted, dissolving in front of him.

  “We shouldn’t have done that.” She dabbed her napkin to her mouth. “I shouldn’t have let you, and I’ll try really hard to resist you. I’m here to help you prove your innocence, and when you get too close to me, it’s very distracting. If I am to develop my detective skills more thoroughly, I’ll need to have my wits about me. So please, Anton, promise you’ll not touch or kiss me like that again.”

  He folded his arms and casually leaned against the door. “Will you believe me? If I recall, you have doubted my word lately.”

  She lowered her attention to her plate. “If you promise as a gentleman, I’ll trust your word.”

  He squeezed his eyes closed, clenching his fists. If he made that promise, he’d stick to it. But, blast it all, he wanted to hold her again and kiss those sweet lips. She nearly admitted her fascination for him, but her stubborn streak wouldn’t let him win.

  “Anton? Will you promise?”

  He looked her way, but she still remained focused on her food. “No, Vivian, I will not.”

  Her gaze clashed with his and she gasped. “You won’t?”

  “I cannot deny my attraction for you. I hunger each day for your smile, your touch, and especially your kind words. If one day you decide to allow my caresses, I will hold you always, and enjoy doing so.” He shook his head. “And because of my weakness, I cannot make that promise. If I cannot touch you, steal a kiss from you, and feel you in my arms, I would rather someone kill me and put me out of my misery.”

  He walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

  * * * *

  With her heart beating in an uneven rhythm, Vivian strolled on stiff legs beside Anton across the deck. The evening’s cool wind teased the tendrils near her ears and nipped at her nose. She bundled the cloak tighter around her neck as she glanced across the sea. The sun had made its departure beyond the horizon, leaving shadows to dance across the water in a soothing motion.

  Her bout with seasickness earlier must have disappeared, because it hadn’t disrupted her day since this morning. Then again, a lot had happened to keep her mind off her stomach.

  Anton must be her cure.

  Frowning, she silently scolded herself. She mustn’t think that way about him, or she’d become weaker.

  Vivian kept herself from accidentally bumping into his arm, mainly because she didn’t want him to accuse her of teasing him. And he would. He knew how she felt, and she certainly would never forget his words.

  Why was he so attracted to her? Could it be because he wanted to bed her and she wouldn’t allow it? Men were fickle when it came to women, and so far, Anton proved to be just like every other man she knew.

  Poor pathetic creatures!

  First things first, she needed to introduce him to Raúl Zamora. Once she had time to think about her new friend, she wondered if their meeting earlier today wasn’t planned. Her detective training had her piecing his words and actions together, and something did not add up.

  For now, she would continue to act friendly toward him, and in Anton’s eyes, make him think she would ask Raúl questions about the location of Juanito. But inwardly, she would study the new Spaniard and see if perhaps he told the truth or lied.

  She couldn’t tell with men anymore. She’d been lied to most of her life, which resulted in her distrustful nature. Her father had not told the truth about her mother—the worst lie of all.

  For several years after her mother left her husband and children behind, Vivian’s father led his children to believe their mother would return one day. Vivian waited day after day, week after week, until months turned into years. Each day, she’d get her hopes up that her mother would open the front door and announce she had come home. And as each sunset darkened the sky, Vivian’s heart shattered.

  On her father’s deathbed, he finally confessed the truth. Her mother would not be returning since she married another man and had a new family. Her father had even referred to her mother as a whore.

  After that point, Vivian became distrustful of men, and although they seemed sincere on the outside, on the inside they kept secrets.

  Anton proved her theory. Just as she would prove his guilt.

  “Vivian?”

  Her name coming from Anton’s sensual voice, jerked her out of her thoughts. “Yes?”

  “You have been quiet this evening. Would you share with me what is on your mind?”

  Oh, if he only knew.

  “Not much. I’ve been thinking about asking my new friend, Raúl, to join us for our walk this evening.”

  She dared take a peek at his expression. Head cocked, he arched a dark eyebrow at her.

  “May I ask why? After all, he is a stranger to both of us.”

  “Indeed. He is also a man who does a lot of traveling because of his business. I thought we could ask him about your uncle.”

  Anton stopped against the railing, leaned his back agai
nst the long, sturdy piece of wood as he folded his arms over a broad chest. Still, his mouth had yet to crack a smile or even a grin. Clearly, her suggestion didn’t amuse him.

  “And why would we do that?”

  She shrugged. “Didn’t you tell me that your uncle is very powerful?”

  “Sí.”

  “If he is so powerful, wouldn’t a lot of people know him, or about him?”

  Anton nodded. “You forget one thing, querida. If people knew my uncle, they would be fearful to talk about him behind his back.”

  “I don’t see why.”

  “No, I suppose you do not. It is hard to know what my uncle would do to a person if they betrayed him, unless you have seen it yourself.”

  Vivian held her tongue. It seemed Anton didn’t want her to ask Raúl questions, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Anton again lied to her. Perhaps she was on the right track, after all. Talking to Raúl had been a clever idea.

  “Anton, we don’t have to come right out and tell Raúl everything. We can just say you’re related to Juanito, and you’re looking for him.”

  “Sorry, but that will not work, either.”

  Silently, she growled. No, he did not want it to work, which was why he kept discouraging her. The true story lie underneath all of this—the story she would eventually uncover. The sooner the better.

  “Regardless, Raúl has asked us to take supper with him tomorrow, so I think we should be hospitable and join him. Even if you don’t think it’s a good idea to ask him questions, I certainly do. After all, I’m the one learning to be a Pinkerton Agent, and I generally go with my instincts. Right now they are telling me to ask Raúl about your uncle.”

  Anton’s chest rose and fell with difficulty. His jaw hard, his lips pursed, and those hypnotic eyes glared at her. She wouldn’t allow him to frighten her. Raúl would be able to help them one way or another, she felt it.

  “Besides, we’re on a ship. What can happen now?” She gave a light chuckle and laid her hand on his arm still folded across his chest.

  His gaze dropped to her fingers before jumping up to meet her eyes. Within seconds, a different emotion filled his eyes, making her heart beat a different rhythm. His brown stare softened considerably the longer he looked at her. Strange how quickly his moods changed.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have touched him. He had told her what happens. But now, she couldn’t pull her hand away. His melting gaze left her immobile. Then he placed his hand over hers to hold it there.

  A knot tightened in her chest, and her throat turned dry. Curse her reaction! Why did he always have to affect her in such a manner? Why did he make her body tingle and cry out to be held by his strong arms?

  She swallowed, trying to add moisture to her cotton-filled throat. Clearing her improper thoughts, she scrambled to remember what they’d been discussing.

  As she opened her mouth to speak, Anton placed his finger over her lips. Heated sparks spread through her body. The words stopped in her throat, and her mind turned blank.

  “Querida, you forget one thing.”

  “Wh—what?” Her voice quivered.

  “I know my uncle better than you. I know what he can do. If he knew I sailed on this ship, his men would be here with us, also.”

  Was he trying to frighten her again? Or perhaps he tried to steer her away from the truth.

  Her fuzzy mind waged a battle with her heart over what she should feel. As soon as she broke contact with him, her brain would function again. But, as she gently tugged her hand away, his grip tightened and wouldn’t allow her to budge.

  “Vivian, you must believe me.”

  She nodded slowly, keeping her stare on his remarkable chocolate eyes. “Of course I believe you, Anton. I just merely suggested we get to know Raúl a little better. If the worst case scenario happened, and your uncle’s men sailed on this ship, we may need Raúl’s help.”

  Anton’s hold on her loosened, and she pulled her hand away.

  He shrugged. “What if Raúl is one of my uncle’s men? Then what?”

  Breathing easier, she took a step back, inhaling the deep salt air, hoping it would clear her mind and cool her heated body.

  “I don’t believe that, Anton.”

  His long, lean fingers caressed her cheek, and she realized she hadn’t stepped back far enough. Her skin burned beneath his touch.

  “This is also an instinctual feeling?” he asked.

  “Exactly.”

  “And you expect me to trust your feelings?”

  “But of course. Just as you expect me to believe in you.” She smiled, trying her best to make it genuine. What she said wasn’t a lie. Not really. She merely told him what he wanted to hear.

  The warmth from his gaze caressed her face before he offered her his arm. “Then, by all means, take me to your new amigo, and introduce us.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. Was he serious? Why did he change his tune so quickly? It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t allow his doubtful nature to dissuade her from her goal, any more than she would let his touch distract her from her mission...to prove his guilt.

  “Promise me one thing, Vivian.”

  “What is that?”

  “When you ask Raúl questions about my uncle, please do not hint of my relation to Juanito. Also, do not let Raúl know you are a Pinkerton Agent.”

  She shook her head. “Why can’t I let him know where I’m employed?”

  “Because he will not trust you. He will not freely give away his answers.”

  “Then what shall I tell him?”

  “I do not know, querida. But I am certain your clever mind will think of something.”

  Biting the inside of her lip, she stewed inwardly. Her suspicions about him grew deeper by the minute. Well, she’d prove to Anton she could pull this off and that Raúl would open up and tell her what he knew.

  Chapter Eight

  The introduction between Anton and Raúl proceeded smoother than Vivian had expected. Anton acted as her protective uncle asking Raúl far too many personal questions about his life, finances, and intentions. Like a gentleman, Raúl gave precise answers and never indicated he wanted more than her friendship.

  Supper passed easily. Not once did Vivian worry about either man. It was as if everyone had a role to play tonight.

  She certainly had a part to perform, and within moments, she needed to put her detective skills to work. She wrestled with whether or not to inform Anton of her intentions. Knowing that hardheaded man, he’d try to stop her since he assumed she constantly needed protection.

  Anton pushed away his empty plate and rose from the table. They ate in the lovely dining area, and thankfully well enough away from everyone so they could carry on a decent conversation.

  “That was filling, do you not agree?” Anton directed his question to Vivian.

  “Indeed it was.”

  “Might I suggest a walk on deck to enjoy the evening?”

  She switched her gaze to Raúl. “What do you say? Would you like to join us?”

  He rose and offered his arm. “Only if you will allow me to be your escort.”

  Vivian remained seated, her focus bouncing back to Anton as she readied herself for his reaction. Tiny lines of tension pulled at the corners of his mouth. His eyes darkened, but not in the same manner or shade she saw when he held her in his arms and peered lovingly into her eyes. Instead, it almost appeared as if jealousy became the root of his attitude.

  A nerve in his cheek jumped. “As her guardian, I think you should have directed that question to me first, Raúl.”

  Panic surged through her, and she lost her breath. It appeared her first order of business would be calming Anton’s anger. She needed to stand near Raúl if she planned on lifting his room key from his pocket.

  She stood and walked next to Anton. Patting his arm, she gazed into his eyes. “Come now, Uncle Anton. Don’t worry so.” She winked. “All will be fine since you will be joining us.”

  “I suppose
.” He arched an eyebrow.

  Vivian gave him a quick, platonic hug, whispering in his ear, “I’m going to sneak away in a minute. Keep him entertained so he doesn’t follow me.”

  Anton’s forehead creased, his eyes narrowed. She didn’t have time to explain. Not now while they stood with Raúl.

  She turned back to their new friend and slipped her hand around his arm. “Shall we proceed?”

  Raúl gave Anton an assessing stare. Vivian held her breath, waiting for approval, and after a couple of silent, and very unnerving seconds, Anton nodded.

  Topside, without her cloak, the cool wind played across her skin, sending a shiver through her. She’d left her wrap in her room on purpose.

  Raúl frowned. “Where is your cape? You will catch your death out here if you do not keep yourself covered.”

  “I shall be all right. You can keep me warm.” She snuggled against his arm, slyly maneuvering a hand into his coat pocket. When her fingers grazed the metallic key, she held her breath. Carefully, she pinched the key between two fingers as she slowly slid it out, then grasped it her palm.

  Anton’s eyes widened, and he cleared his throat. Anger darkened his face as he directed his stare on her.

  “Vivian, I am still your guardian, and you must maintain proper decorum. You do not know Raúl well enough to be so open with him. I insist you hurry back to the room and fetch your cloak.”

  She held herself from laughing. Although Anton gave a splendid performance as her uncle, he was still very humorous.

  “Raúl, please forgive me for—”

  “No need to apologize.” He threw a glare at Anton. “Unlike most men, I do understand the needs of women.” Smiling at Vivian, he caressed the hand still hooked over his arm. “But your uncle is correct. You need to have some protection from the cold.”

  She stepped back and nodded. “If you will excuse me, then. I shall return momentarily.”

  Anton pulled himself straighter. “Hurry, my dear. And in your absence, I shall get to know Raúl a little better.”

  She held in her sigh of relief until she hurried down the stairs and stood in front of Raúl’s room. As she slid the key into the slot, her hand shook. She didn’t know why nerves suddenly made their debut. She really wasn’t tense, just excited.