by Tina Donahue
He pounced. Hand over her mouth, he dragged her into the stall.
Chapter 6
Tomás could barely keep still in his study, eager to begin his day with Beatriz. Minutes before, he’d sent for Yolanda and awaited her now. Better to have the child, rather than him, go to the servant quarters to tell Beatriz where she had to be in order to learn his newest surprise. One he’d worked on for days.
Once she saw what he’d prepared, she’d surely come up with a delightful fantasy for them to engage in.
Light footfalls sounded in the hall. A young girl, no doubt Yolanda, stopped in the doorway to his study, cheeks flushed, mood expectant.
He gestured her into the room. “I have a task for you. Can I trust you to carry out what I ask?”
“Sí, Patrón. I would never fail you.”
He liked her eagerness and lack of guile. Nuncio could take lessons from her on how a servant should behave. “I need you to deliver a message to Beatriz. I understand the two of you are friends.”
“We are. The only one I have left.”
He wasn’t certain what she meant and didn’t have time to ask. “As her friend, I want you to keep this message a secret from everyone else. Can you do so?”
“I already have twice.”
“What do you mean?”
“Last week I told her to go to the stable as Señora Cisneros said I should. A few minutes ago, I did the same.”
“Did the same what?”
“Told Beatriz to go to the stable. I told none of the servants, just as you wanted.”
“Just as I…” He frowned. “What are you talking about?”
She pulled in her shoulders. “You wanted me to give your message to Beatriz a few minutes ago. Rufio said you—”
“Rufio?” Tomás’s chest tightened. “What has he to do with this?”
“He said to tell Beatriz to go to the stable. You wanted her there and no one should know.”
Tomás ran from the room and down the hall to the entryway. Nuncio gaped at him. Tomás skidded to a stop. “Alert the guards. Tell them to go to the stable.”
Nuncio rushed in the other direction.
Tomás bolted outside and tore across the grounds, rage mingling with fear. Beatriz had warned that Rufio would exact revenge. Tomás should have heeded her words. If anything happened to her…if that beast laid one hand on…
He sprinted to the stable, racing inside. Horses snorted loudly. Several squealed.
The brute was on top, holding Beatriz down. She punched and kicked futilely, her sleeve torn.
He yanked Rufio off her. The young man staggered back, arms flailing.
Tomás stomped toward him. “Puto.”
The foulest word in the Spanish language.
Rufio breathed hard, his ruddy face going white. “You misunderstand, Patrón. We were playing a game. She wanted me to do this.”
Tomás slammed his fist into Rufio’s jaw.
His head snapped back. He staggered but didn’t fall, and twisted around to run.
Tomás landed a solid punch in his side, then his belly.
Gagging, Rufio dropped to his knees, his lip split, blood dirtying his chin.
Three guards raced inside, swords drawn.
“Remove this thing from my estate.” Tomás flung his hand at Rufio. “Take him to the hermandad. Have them deal with him.” He strode to Beatriz.
“No.” Rufio staggered to his feet. “I did nothing wrong.”
Tomás bunched his shoulders, fury pulsing through him. “Take the animal now.”
Rufio sidestepped the men. “Will you have the whore go to the hermandad too to explain how she seduced—”
“Puto.” Tomás lunged.
Rufio backed into a stall door, arms over his head, bent at the waist to protect himself. “If I go, she does too, to prove what you think I did. All lies. She wanted the game.”
Tomás stilled, not throwing his next blow. Beatriz huddled against the back wall, knees to her chest, face lowered.
A dull pain pulsed in his belly. Asking her to prove her purity to men she didn’t know was more than he feared she could bear. However, he had to give her the chance to decide on her own.
He sank to one knee at her side. “Do you want to go?”
She shook her head.
He turned to his guards. “Throw the puto off my estate with no more than his belongings.”
“Wait.” Rufio stayed clear of the men. “What of my wages?”
“You forfeited them when you attacked the señorita.”
“She is a whore.”
Tomás left the stall. “Take this rubbish away before I kill him. No one speaks of what happened here to anyone, understand?”
His men nodded.
“Even you know she lies,” Rufio said. “Why else would you keep this a secret?”
Tomás spat. “You are filth. If you tell anyone of your service here, hoping to gain another position, I promise to warn your new master to get rid of you immediately.”
“Please Patrón. Without your good word, I can never work again.”
“If you starve, the outcome would be too good for you.”
The guards hauled Rufio from the building. His pleas shifted to crude oaths.
Tomás returned to Beatriz and gathered her in his arms. She stiffened, then squirmed, trying to break free. The pain in his belly worsened. “Forgive me. I mean no harm.” He loosened his hold. “Should I send for the physician?” He spoke quietly. “How badly did Rufio hurt you?”
She kept her face lowered, tears dripping from her chin. “You came before he could do his worst.” Her shoulders trembled. “I thought you sent for me like the last time. He was on me so quickly, I…”
“Rufio will never bother you again.”
Tomás stroked her hair. Straw stuck to her tresses, tunic, and gown. Although the horses had quieted somewhat, they were still agitated, the stable hands nowhere in sight. He guessed Rufio had lied to keep them well away from this place so he could attack her. “Let me bring you back to the castle.”
“No. The others will see how I look.”
“Only if you return to the servant quarters. I have another place in mind. Where I intended to bring you for your surprise today.”
She eased back, her eyes reddened. “Intended? You no longer want me?”
Oh Beatriz. “Of course, I do.” He hugged her even harder. “Never question my feelings. I just thought…” He didn’t know how to continue.
“What? Tell me.”
“Rufio showed you the worst way a man can behave. Do you still want me?”
She kissed him deeply, her lips salty with tears, her caress desperate, not letting him go. When she finally finished, she pressed her cheek to his. “I want you as I never will another man. I need you to take me in every possible way.”
Tomás wasn’t certain what she meant, or if she realized what she’d said. “Do you mean our coupling?”
She cupped his face. “From the start, I wanted nothing more. If Rufio had succeeded, he would have been my first. I would have lost that moment with you.” Her expression grew more pained. “One I can hold dear for all time.”
After they parted. She was already saying goodbye.
He clasped her to him, unwilling to allow such an outcome. “We have many moments, starting now. Are you able to walk or do you need me to carry you?”
“To your study?”
“No. A hidden place within the castle. Only Señora Cisneros knows its location. I had her clean the spot we’ll use.”
“Hidden why?”
“Let me show you.” He helped Beatriz to her feet. In addition to her torn sleeve, she’d lost a shoe.
He helped her to make things right, even picking straw from her hair. When he slipped his arm around her waist, she pulled away. He brought her back. “The others will never see us together. The entrance is on the other side of the castle, far away
from the usual areas, planned that way deliberately.”
“By you?”
He smiled. “The Moor who once owned this land.”
“Are we going to his study?”
Tomás laughed softly. “No. Let me show you.”
He led her from the stable.
With no one about, she pressed against him, her arm firmly around his waist. Her complexion had almost returned to normal, tears at an end. They reached the entrance he’d mentioned. Tall bushes shielded the area and wooden door from notice.
She pressed her mouth to his ear. “Is this where the Moor kept his prisoners?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
She searched his face. “Can you explain further for a simple servant like me?”
He could, but wanted to surprise her. “Never refer to yourself as simple or as a servant. The highest-ranking ladies in the kingdom are not nearly as noble as you.”
Her brow wrinkled.
He had no idea why and wasn’t about to question her. No matter how much she might have argued, she was the finest woman he’d ever known.
Today, she’d be his.
A reckless decision if he didn’t intend on them sharing their lives. Somehow, he’d have to see they did, find a way to make them fit together, not only here but in his world too.
With her hand in his, he led Beatriz inside. The walls and polished stone floor were cool to the touch, the ceiling arched. He’d lit an oil lamp earlier in preparation for this, just as the Moor who’d once lived here would have done. Today, everything needed to be magical. If Rufio had ravished her, Tomás would have never forgiven himself. Her first time with a man should be a breathtaking act with such intense joy she’d always want more.
They strolled deeper into the space. The hall widened into a large chamber that led to an interior courtyard. There was no access to this spot from the castle. No one except Señora Cisneros knew the place existed.
Beatriz eased from him and explored. Instead of heavy Spanish chairs, benches, and tables, low platforms with thin mattresses, large vases, and exquisitely designed rugs in red, blue, and gold dominated the area. Silk sheets covered each mattress. Colorful pillows lay strewn about. Intricate latticework screens stood next to arched windows and doors, opened now to allow an unrestricted view of the small courtyard. Flowers in every color, lush green plants, and towering trees created a veritable Eden.
Her eyes glittered. “Is this, or was this, what I think it is?”
“A prison?”
“In a manner of speaking. A harem, no?”
Yes. This room, and the ones beyond it, spoke of a woman’s willing surrender to the man who owned her. Sensuality permeated the space. Tomás wanted Beatriz nude and reclined over the purple silk nearest her. Arms above her head, baring her breasts, legs parted to expose her folds, dewy and plump with arousal, begging for a man’s sex. He had to lock his knees to keep standing. “Are you offended, appalled, incensed—”
“Delighted. Did Señora Cisneros feel the same when she saw this, or was she dismayed at having to clean this room on her own?”
“The castle parlor is far larger and I did pay her well.”
Beatriz regarded the silk-covered mattresses. “Did you tell her why you wanted her to take care of this?”
“You mean as a den of desire for you and me?”
She laughed.
Every horrible thing in the past faded with the sound. “I told her I wanted to use this space to get away from the constraints and demands of my estate. And to avoid Nuncio whenever I could.”
“How clever. What did you tell the men who tended the courtyard?” She gestured to the vegetation.
“I took care of the plants on my own.”
“And the pools?”
Two depressed areas of moderate size lay in the stone floor, clean water sparkling in each. Harem women had probably used them, rather than tubs, to bathe. “Sí.”
“You did so much work by yourself?”
She made him sound incapable of hauling water from the courtyard well or tending soil. Next, he feared she’d suggest Yolanda wash his hands after meals. “I had to amuse myself with something during the endless days. You waited far into each night to dust my study and tend to me.”
“Forgive me for being so thoughtless of your feelings. Is that for me?” She inclined her head to the large basket he’d left on a red silk sheet.
“I thought we might share. Are you hungry?”
“For every part of you, always.”
His cheeks heated at her words. Despite being a virgin, she thought like a man. He liked that.
She stroked his nipples and suckled his neck.
His legs wavered from fierce desire whipping through him. “Does your hunger for me involve a new fantasy?”
She purred and eased back. “Several. Beginning with you as my master in the harem, teaching me what to expect as your slave.”
He pulled her into him, her mound against his thickened shaft. “You mean, conquering you.”
“Using me for your pleasure, delivering ecstasy neither of us can resist.”
A delightful idea. However, she was still untried. He ran his thumb over her cheek, tracing the tracks from her dried tears. “I want you to be honest with me. Are you afraid to lie with a man?”
“Not you. I offer my virginity without regret.”
“You can never go back once the deed is done.”
“Why would I want to? I was unhappy and lonely before we met. You gave me a reason to smile.”
He hurt for her. “Was your life so terrible? Tell me. I want to know.”
“I want to forget. Help me to do so, please.”
Tomás wanted to ask more, but kept his peace, giving her what she needed now. He kissed her with all the longing he possessed. She responded eagerly. They made noises only lovers could, filling the room with passionate sounds as old as time.
He cupped her neck and pulled his mouth free. Her lips were wet from their kiss, bruised with their desire.
“You willingly become my slave in here?”
“From this moment forward.”
“I can do with you as I will?”
“Use me well and never deny yourself. In these rooms, everything is possible, nothing forbidden. This is our world.”
He never wanted to go anywhere else. Her desire stirred him deeply, her passion coming from deep within, not a game like other señoritas who expected a betrothal or marriage in return. Beatriz wanted him for the man he was, flawed and lacking in so many ways.
She didn’t see his imperfections.
He embraced her as fiercely as he dared, not wanting to hurt her.
“Are you all right?” She hugged him. “Have I spoken out of turn?”
“Never. You continue to amaze me.”
“I have yet to do anything.”
“You will.” He released her. “Undress me.”
She regarded his clothing. “Such an easy task.”
“In time my demands will grow far more difficult.” He leaned down until their noses nearly touched. “Some might say hard.”
Color crept up her throat to her cheeks. Studiously, she avoided his gaze. After unbuckling his belt, she hung it over her shoulder. “So heavy.” She stroked the fine leather. “How do you manage to wear this every day?”
“A man learns to carry many weighty things around.”
She glanced at his groin. “Surely, you must grow tired of such a burden and need relief at times.”
He did right now. His member strained against his braies and hose, wanting inside her sheath so badly he feared harming them both with his desire. “Are you tempting me?”
“Undressing you.” She put his belt on the floor, pulled his shirt off, and dropped the garment on silk striped blue and gold.
On her knees, she tugged off his shoes and hose, placing each item on the other, undressing him far more slowly than he would
have liked. Fevered and wanting, he could barely stand still. His muscles kept bunching, demanding action like the warrior he was, the master who owned her body and soul.
He wanted her heart. Unwilling to settle for anything less, he held himself in check.
At length, she relieved him of his braies, and lowered it to his other things. With him finally nude, she kissed a particularly long battle scar and looked up, her mouth close to his rigid sex, her breaths skipping over the thickened rod.
He snatched a meager amount of air. Taking more was beyond his capabilities. “On your feet.” He was determined to give her a fantasy she’d never forget even if he died waiting for his own pleasure. “Take off your clothes.”
Her knowing smile fueled his need for everything she was. Bright, kind, seductive, his. Tomás wouldn’t consider any other outcome for them. They belonged together.
She placed her shoes, stockings, and tunic next to his garments. When she touched her torn sleeve from Rufio’s violence, her mouth turned down.
“Would you like me to help?” He didn’t want anything dampening her spirits. “Or do you want to kill me with the wait?”
Beatriz laughed, his teasing having the desired effect. She worked the laces. As always, there seemed to be no end to them. In the future, he’d insist she never wear clothes on their days together. Perhaps he’d give his entire staff the same time off, leaving him and Beatriz free to roam the castle nude.
He grinned at his outrageous fantasy.
She gave him an odd look and tossed her gown and chemise on the other clothing. Gloriously naked at last. No harem girl could match her beauty, dark hair against milky skin, her nipples rosy, breasts ripe, hips lavish. She was beyond temptation, more womanly than a man’s most indecent dreams.
Her scent captivated. The hint of musk enthralled.
She cocked her head. “What are you thinking?”
Better to show than to tell. He pulled silk from the wall, the fabric light as air, tinted yellow and green. “Give me your hands, wrists together.”
She kept her arms at her sides. “What?”
“Already you tire of being my slave?”
“No…I…” She put out her hands.
Tomás wrapped the fabric around her wrists and secured it with a knot. Using the silk as he might a rope, he led her to a screen next to an open window. Sun spilled inside, slanting across her hip and the dark curls between her legs, already damp with her arousal.