by Penny Jordan
But as far as the rest of the family were concerned, it had been all long faces and grave expressions.
Jorge had sought Jessica out and confided that he could not see what other course his brother could have taken.
'He should never have allowed you to become the object of Pilar's speculation in the first place,' he had told her. 'Sebastian knows how possessive Pilar is about him, how she would seek to discredit anyone who is close to him.'
Jessica scarcely felt that she came into that category, and if that had been the reason for Pilar bursting in on them in the manner she had, it had had completely the opposite effect from the one she had desired.
She glanced briefly at Sebastian, wondering what thoughts lay behind the shuttered face. They had been married this morning, she was now the Condesa de Calvadores. She touched the new band of gold on her finger, as though the touch of the shiny metal would make her new status more real.
A wedding breakfast had been arranged at Calvadores town house. Fifty-odd guests had been invited—all close family, Sebastian's aunt had assured her, and all of whom would be bitterly resentful if they were not invited.
'They look upon Sebastian as the head of our family,' she had explained to Jessica when she had protested. 'It will only cause problems later if they are not invited. There has already been so much turmoil in his life…'
She broke off, and Jessica sensed that she was thinking back to that other girl Sebastian should have married. In fact Sofia had done all she could to welcome Jessica into the family, her serene expression betraying no hint of the shocked reproach Jessica had glimpsed in her eyes in those few horrifying seconds when she had followed Pilar into the tower room.
Only this morning as Jessica was dressing for the service she had come into her room, proffering a pearl choker.
'You must wear them,' she had insisted. 'Every Caldvadores bride does.'
'But I'm scarcely the bride you can have wanted for your nephew,' Jessica had protested miserably. Today of all days she longed to have her aunt with her, longed for the misty white dress she had always secretly dreamed of wearing, instead of the expensive silk separates she had bought hurriedly in Seville—extremely beautiful in their way, but scarcely bride-like.
'You love him,' Sofia had stunned Jessica by saying quietly, 'and that is enough for me. Above all else Sebastian is a man who needs a wife's love. I know he can sometimes seem hard, arrogant even,' a small smile lifted her mouth. 'My own husband was much the same, it is a Calvadores trait, unfortunately, but Sebastian has had to endure much in his life. The loss of his parents was a terrible blow to him. He had to assume the role of guardian and mentor to Jorge; and then there was poor Manuela. So much misery and pain! I have hoped for a long time to see him married. You will make him a good wife, I know, because you love him.'
'But he doesn't love me!' Jessica hadn't been able to stem the anguished words.
'He desires you, who knows where that desire may lead?'
Who knew indeed? Jessica thought unhappily, glancing down the length of the table, listening half-heartedly to the hushed Spanish voices. She was a part of this family now, an important part,as one dowager had already reminded her, for she would be the mother of the next head of the family.
They were not having a honeymoon; Sebastian had deemed it unnecessary. They would return to the hacienda, at least for a few weeks, until he had completed his work on the designs, and then they would divide their time between the house in Seville and the hacienda.
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Jorge. Sebastian was angry with him because Jorge had announced that he would not marry Barbara.
'Isn't it enough that one of us has married without love?' he had flung at Sebastian in the middle of their argument, and Jessica, who had been standing outside the study waiting to talk to Sebastian, had fled, just managing to reach the privacy of her room before she dissolved in tears. What sort of marriage had she committed herself to? One where her husband took his pleasure of her body while ignoring her mind? Could she endure that?
The breakfast seemed unending, her head throbbing with the rich food and drink, her body aching with a bone-jarring tension that made her jerk away from Sebastian when he rose, to cup her elbow, when they eventually left.
'Dios,' he swore, his eyes darkening to graphite, 'why do you shrink from me like a petrified virgin?'
Because that's exactly what I am, Jessica longed to scream, but somehow the words wouldn't come. Why on earth had she allowed him to think otherwise for so long?
She had the long drive back to the hacienda to dwell on her folly. She had no illusions about the nature of their marriage. It would be for life and there would be nothing platonic about it. Sebastian wanted children, he had told her so, and so did she, but up until now she hadn't allowed herself to think any further than the fact that she loved him. Now she was forced to concede that he believed her to be a sexually experienced woman; while in fact…
The hum of the powerful air-conditioning was the only sound to disturb the heavy silence of the car. Sebastian was driving the Mercedes himself, and his glance flicked from the road to her pale face, with dispassionate scrutiny. 'You are very pale. Do you not feel well?'
'A headache,' she managed to whisper, through a throat suddenly painfully constricted.
'That is the excuse of the married woman, not the bride,' Sebastian told her curtly. 'You are my wife, Jessica, and I will not have you reneging on our marriage now. There is something more than a headache troubling you—what is it?'
Was this the moment to tell him the truth? She cleared her throat hesitantly, wishing he would stop the car and take her in his arms. Somehow then it would be much easier to tell him that she was still a virgin.
'Stop playing games!' he warned her irately, swearing angrily as a cyclist suddenly wobbled into the centre of the road and he had to take evasive action. 'Por Dios, my patience is almost at an end!' he muttered savagely. 'I can only thank God that I am spared the necessity of initiating a virgin. We were interrupted at a singularly inappropriate moment by my aunt and Pilar, and my need for the satisfaction their appearance denied me has been an aching hunger in my body ever since. But it is one which will be fully appeased tonight,' he added grimly, shocking her with his frankness.
'My payment for the privilege of bearing your name?' Jessica said tautly.
'Payment?' He frowned. 'What rubbish are you talking now? Your desire was as great as mine— you admitted it.'
And so she had, but that desire had been aroused by her love for him, and had been totally obliterated by her fear. How could she tell him the truth now?
'The others are a long way behind,' she murmured nervously at one point, glancing over her shoulder at the dust-covered road.
'They are indeed,' Sebastian agreed dryly, 'a full twenty-four hours behind. Tonight we shall be completely alone—my aunt's suggestion, and one I could not argue against. As it is, she points out to me that many of the family find it strange that we are returning to the hacienda.
'I'm sure Pilar will acquaint them with the truth,' Jessica heard herself saying bitterly. 'That I trapped you into this marriage, just as you once thought I was trying to trap Jorge.'
'Pilar will say nothing,' Sebastian assured her coldly. 'And you are becoming hysterical—I cannot conceive why.'
No, Jessica raged inwardly, you wouldn't, would you? You're totally unfeeling and blind. If you weren't you'd know that I'm not…
They turned into the drive leading to the house. Dusk had crept up on them as they drove, and the evening air was full of the scent of the flowers, the chirp of the crickets filling the silence.
As Sebastian had said, the house was completely and almost eerily empty. She felt his eyes on her back as she headed for the tower, freezing as he drawled mockingly,
'You are going the wrong way. From now on you will share my suite.'
His suite. His bed! Almost suffocating with the fear crawling through her body, Jessica allowed
him to propel her towards another flight of stairs. This was a part of the house she had not previously seen. A large but austere sitting room looked out on to a secluded, darkened courtyard. Lamps threw soft shadows across the room. It | was decorated in soft mochas and creams; modern furniture that was entirely masculine. Expensive Italian units lined one wall, two dark brown velvet-covered settees placed opposite one another across an off-white expanse of carpet. 'The bedroom is through here.'
Jessica stared disbelievingly. Surely when he had talked about his desire he had not meant that he intended to satisfy it now? She stared blankly at the door. It was barely seven o'clock, far too early to… A hundred confused thoughts jumbled through her mind. She had been hoping to find a way of telling him the truth; had hoped that during the course of the evening his manner might soften a little… 'I'm hungry,' she lied wildly, 'I…'
'So am I,' Sebastian agreed obliquely, 'and I thought I had already warned you about playing games with me… What are you trying to do?' he demanded brutally, 'drive me to the point where I'll commit rape? Does the thought of that turn you on, is that it?'
'No!' Jessica was totally revolted. 'I…' 'I'm not ready' was what she wanted to say, but how could she? 'I'd like to shower and change, if you don't mind,' she managed with pathetic dignity, 'It's been a long day, and…'
'Of course I don't mind,' he said smoothly. 'The shower is through there.'
He indicated a door across the width of the bedroom. As she craned her neck to see it, Jessica was acutely aware of his proximity, of the maleness he exuded and her own tremulous reaction to it.
'If you'll just excuse me for a second,' he drawled mockingly, 'there's something I have to do.'
At least he was affording her some brief respite, Jessica thought thankfully as she saw the sitting room door close behind her. He probably realised she would prefer to prepare for what was to come in private. The bedroom was as masculine as the sitting room, echoing its colours, with sliding patio doors into the courtyard. She flicked the light switch and instantly the room was bathed in soft light.
What about her clothes? she wondered anxiously. She could scarcely put back on her silk suit. She had just reached the sitting room door and opened it when Sebastian seemed to materialise out of nowhere.
'Going somewhere?' he asked sardonically.
'Er… my clothes, I…'
'You will find them in one of the cupboards.
The maids will have attended to it during the day.' He watched her lazily. 'Why so nervous? It cannot be the first time you have been in such a situation.'
'It's the first time I've been married, though,' Jessica managed tartly, almost instantly wishing she had been less aggressive when she saw the way his eyes darkened.
'Rafael has left us some chilled champagne. I shall go and pour some out, although I doubt that it will be consumed in the spirit he anticipates. He probably left it thinking that to drink it would help allay your maidenly qualms,' Sebastian explained succinctly when she glanced hesitantly at him.
At last he was gone, and Jessica searched feverishly through her clothes, finding clean underwear and a fresh dress. Luckily some of her clothes had arrived, and although there was nothing remotely bridal among them they brought a nostalgic touch of home.
The bathroom was luxuriously masculine; a deep dark red and cream, the bath enormous. After one brief glance at it, she opted for the shower, wishing fervently that the bathroom door had a lock, and then chiding herself for her lurid fears. She was behaving like a swooning Victorian heroine faced with her would-be ravisher. She loved Sebastian, she reminded herself.
But he didn't love her; and he didn't know that he would be her first lover.
The sting of the shower spray cooled her heated skin. Someone had placed her toiletries with Sebastian's and she used her perfumed shower gel to soap her body, enjoying the fragrance, but reminding herself that she mustn't linger. She was just about to turn on the water to wash off the soap when a deep voice murmured provocatively, 'You've missed a bit!'
Sebastian! She hadn't heard him enter the bathroom, and she turned quickly, reaching instinctively for a towel.
'Such modesty!' he mocked, twitching it away from her, 'and so unnecessary… mm?'
'Sebastian, please!' Her voice was curiously husky, a strange deep heat pervading her body, her head oddly light.
'There is no need to beg me, querida,' he drawled huskily, deliberately misunderstanding the nature of her plea. 'You are a very desirable woman, a little slender perhaps,' he mocked, and Jessica wondered if he was thinking of Pilar's lusher charms, 'but very tantalising for all that. I like your perfume,' he added softly, his finger moving along the ridge of her spine.
Panic clamoured inside her, her body tensing under the explorative caress, but Sebastian appeared not to notice. His fingers moved rhythmically over her skin, and as though he sensed that she was about to protest, he said softly, 'Like I said, you've missed a bit. What's the matter?' he asked, frowning as he sensed her tension.
'I… I'd like to get dressed,' she muttered huskily. 'As I said before, I'm hungry, and…"
'Like I said, so am I… I hope you're not getting any foolish ideas about reneging on our marriage. I want you, Jessica,' he told her coolly, 'and I want you now… Perhaps you're right,' he added softly, 'and now is not the time to play games in the shower. Later—er—when we have more leisure for playing. Right now, all I want is the scented warmth of your body in my arms, your heart beating against mine…'
'No!'
Jessica managed a husky protest, but it was lost, smothered as he lifted her out of the shower, careless of the dampness of her naked body against his clothes, carrying her effortlessly into the bedroom and depositing her on the bed.
'Beautiful,' he murmured with pleasure as his fingers drifted exploratively across her skin. 'So soft and pale.'
Jessica looked imploringly at the lamps revealing her body in its most intimate detail.
'You want us to make love in the darkness?' Strangely the idea seemed to displease him. 'Why?' he demanded. 'So that you can pretend I am someone else? Oh no, querida,' he told her tightly, 'I want you to know who it is who possesses you, and besides, your body is so beautiful I want to enjoy it with my eyes as well as my hands and lips. Just as I want you to enjoy mine,' he added seductively. 'A pity you had decided to shower before I could join you. I would have enjoyed undressing you.'
'I'm a woman, not a doll!' Jessica, protested fiercely, terrified by the images his words were conjuring, the pulsating sensations radiating to every part of his body.
'Tonight you are my wife, and no matter what has gone before, it shall be as it has been with no other man, so that by morning you will remember only the touch of my hands, my body…'
And Jessica remembered the Moorish blood in his veins, the blatant sensuality that would be part of his legacy from that blood, and every muscle in her body constricted in terrified dread. He expected her to be a sexually experienced woman, instead of which…
She shivered, and he frowned, moving away from the bed, and returning with a glass of frothing liquid.
'Drink this,' he commanded. 'You are cold.'
The champagne bubbled in her throat, tickling her nose. She coughed, spilling some and feeling it splash down on her skin.
'Dios, but I want you,' Sebastian murmured throatily, then he bent his head, his tongue touching the spot where the champagne had fallen in the valley between her breasts. Tension coiled through her, a cramping sensation stirring in her stomach, weakness invading her muscles as his fingers gripped her hips and his mouth continued its subtle exploration of her breasts, first one and then the other—light, delicate caresses, the mere brush of his lips against her skin, tormenting her with the ache of unappeasement they left.
Her fear was forgotten. All she wanted was right here within reach. She groaned a half protest as Sebastian's lips continued their teasing assault, her fingers locking into his hair as she tried to, silently co
nvey her need for something more.
'You are too impatient,' he murmured against her skin. 'We have all night before us, your skin is as sweet and tender as a fresh peach, tempting to the tongue and firm to the touch.'
His hand left her hip to stroke wantonly across the soft tension of her stomach, his lips following a downward path.
'Sebastian…'
'How sweetly you say my name,' he told her huskily, 'and how much sweeter it would be to feel your lips against my skin. Surely, querida, I don't have to tell you that?'
He moved, and Jessica was instantly aware of his arousal, but a languid yielding sensation was spreading through her, driving out fear. Her fingers trembled over the buttons of his shirt, exploring the moistness of the skin beneath. His skin was warm, silk shielding hard muscle and bone, and merely to let her fingers drift over the smooth muscles of his back provoked a racing excitement that seemed to invade every nerve. His skin burned against her palms, his husky moan inciting her to press quivering lips against the smooth column of his throat, tasting the salty male scent of him.
'Dios, Jessica,' he protested hoarsely as her tongue delicately probed the curve of his throat, her hands clinging to his shoulders, the soft movements of her body inviting his touch. His hand cupped her jaw, imprisoning her as his mouth possessed hers with hot urgency, forcing her lips to part, tasting the moist inner sweetness. His hands moved urgently over her body, desire burning hotly in his eyes as he urged her to help him with his pants. He had none of the self-consciousness she possessed, his body golden and taut in the light from the lamps as he stood up briefly, watching her eyes move wonderingly.
'You look at me as though you have never seen a man before, querida,' he told her softly. 'Such a look is a temptation to any man, and I am more than willing to be tempted.' He leaned over her, tanned fingers gently cupping first one breast and then the other as he bent his head, stroking the pulsating nipples lightly with his tongue, his mouth finally closing over the aching core, and waves of sensation beat through her as she gasped and trembled at the sensations he was arousing. A need to press wild, scattered kisses against his body seized her, his husky growl of pleasure reverberating along her spine.