'That outlandish name—you're half foreign, I believe Luis said.'
The tone of her voice made it an insult, and Kirstie clenched her hands in an effort to contain her temper. 'My mother is Scottish, senora, and my father was Spanish.'
'And your grandfather is the old man who lives in the barraca at the end of the ride.'
The curling lip and scornful eyes almost goaded Kirstie to rashness, and she looked up with bright angry eyes, all the pride of the Rodriguez in the angle of her head. 'My grandfather is. Don Jose Lorenzo Delgado Rodriguez, senora; our family have lived here for well over two hundred years!'
'But not always in a barraca, I hear!' Rosa Montanes jeered.
On the brink of losing her temper, Kirstie suddenly realised that she was being deliberately goaded into doing just that, and with the greatest of effort she held tightly to her composure and answered as quietly as she could. 'Not always in a barraca, senora.''
'I just hope you appreciate how lucky you are to be allowed to stay on the estate,' she was told, and half-turned to indicate the mare that was tethered the other side of her. 'Is that your animal?'
In the first place Kirstie had instinctively nodded agreement, then recalled suddenly that it was no longer true and hastily corrected herself. 'No, not strictly speaking, not now,' she admitted reluctantly. 'She belongs to—the Montaiies.' In fact she wasn't exactly sure who to attribute with ownership of the horses, although she suspected they were Miguel's personal property and not literally part of the estate.
'I see.' Narrow eyes watched her closely. 'And does anyone know you—borrow it?'
'Yes, of course they know!' Kirstie's temper flared, because there was no mistaking the implication and she'd stood just about as much as she intended to. 'I have permission to take Scheherazade whenever I want her; she isn't suitable for Mig—Don Miguel and he's told me to go on using her as if she was still mine! He's been very understanding about it.'
It was, she realised, the first time she had given Miguel credit for the concession, but that brief slip of the tongue over his name had been noticed and the glitter in Rosa Montanes' eyes told her how much it was resented. 'Ah yes, Don Miguel,' she drawled softly. 'I have no doubt
you find him very—understanding. I suppose he was being understanding that day I noticed you together in the hall!'
She had been half expecting something to be said about that sooner or later, Kirstie realised, but she refused to admit that Rosa Montaiies had any right to make an issue of it. That brief kiss had been a very personal thing between herself and Miguel, and she disliked this woman having been a witness to it. Obviously it had made a very deep impression on Rosa Montaiies, because she could still look furiously angry about it even four days after it happened.
Still somehow managing to control her own anger, Kirstie realised that she wouldn't be able to for much longer in the face of such deliberate provocation. 'I assume you're referring to the day my grandfather's car ^ broke down,' she said. 'He was gone so long, I felt sure he'd had an accident, and Don Miguel was very helpful in ringing round to garages etc. I was very grateful to him.'
'Oh, I'm quite sure you were!' Rosa Montaiies declared harshly. 'You were so grateful you couldn't wait to throw yourself into his arms; a rather demonstrative way of expressing gratitude, I would have thought!'
Kirstie took a long deep breath and clung grimly to the remnants of her self-control. 'You misread the whole situation, Seiiora Montaiies,' she insisted in a voice that shivered with anger, but Rosa Montaiies would have none of it, and her eyes blazed at her furiously.
'I think not! I saw you throw yourself into his arms; I'm not a fool, senorita, and nor am I blind!'
'But you are mistaken!' Kirstie wished she was more certain whether or not she had actually leaned towards Miguel in those first few moments of relief, and therefore prompted him to put his arms around her. But one fact she could be very sure of, and she stressed it unhesitatingly and with no thought for the consequences.
'As for that kiss, Senora Montanes, that was Miguel's idea entirely and nothing to do with me!'
'You bitch!'
It was a second or two before Kirstie realised that by using Miguel's name without the formality of a title she had probably brought matters to a head. Rosa Mon-taiies was so furiously jealous that she was even prepared to overcome the normal pride of her kind and screech like a fishwife in her fury.
'You'd better be careful,' she warned. 'Don't try to be clever with me, you little bitch, or I'll make you sorry for it! You've got Luis running after you at the moment, so let that be enough for you, and stay away from Miguel or I'll make you wish you had! Do you understand me?'
Kirstie was trembling, but it wasn't with anger alone, she reahsed. Such violent emotions were a new experience in her young life and she was prepared to believe that Rosa Montaiies was not making empty threats. Deep down she felt fear and apprehension, although she would never have admitted it, and especially not to this woman.
'You have no right to speak to me like that,' she objected, but her objections were waved scornfully aside.
'I have every right to speak as I wish,' she was told, 'You're my father-in-law's secretary—an employee of the estate, nothing more, and I venture to suggest that he places more value on my opinion than on yours, senorita You'd be better advised to remember your place or I might suggest he gets rid of you!'
'Oh, but he wouldn't, not without good reason!'
Kirstie had been sure when she answered so impulsively, but something in the hard black eyes of Rosa Montafies suggested she knew differently. 'Don't be a fool!' she told her in a flat harsh voice. 'Don't you know how he dotes on his only grandchild? I don't think he'd think your services as secretary were worth losing touch with my daughter—his granddaughter. Remember that
the next time you feel like creepinginto Miguel's arms!'
*Oh, but you couldn't!' Kirstie was stunned for a moment, for there was an almost fanatical light in Rosa Montaiies' eyes. At any moment now, Kirstie thought wildly, she's going to lash out at me, and she again felt the chilling touch of fear. But still it was the enormity of the threat that troubled her most, and she stared up at the other woman in blank disbelief. 'You surely wouldn't blackmail him with taking away his granddaughter,' she protested huskily. 'It would be wicked— inhuman.'
Near-black eyes snapped with fury, and the reins were gripped tightly until her knuckles showed bone-white. 'It's time you were taught a lesson, Senorita Secretary! If the mare belongs to the estate then I don't see why I should have to borrow a horse when this one is available! I'll take it back with me and you can walk; let's hope, you'll learn some manners at the same time, and some humility! You no longer own Casa de Rodriguez, you and that old man, you're peasants living in a bar-raca, and it's time you learnt your place!'
'No, you can't do that!'
It was the work of a moment for Rosa Montafies to reach down and unhitch the mare and there was no time for Kirstie to do anything, even if she could have got past her. The mare was pulled roughly round and heels jabbed sharply into the gelding's flanks, urging him forward, and Kirstie was left fuming and helpless as the little cavalcade moved off. Frustration made her bum with anger, although she faced the fact that Rosa Montafies probably had more right to the use of the mare than she had herself in the circumstances. Her own right * was simply a fantasy that Miguel had fostered out of compassion.
It always seemed to come back to Miguel, and for a moment the old feeling of resentment arose again. If he hadn't kissed her, then Rosa Montafies would have had no cause to be so furiously jealous; and yet when she recalled the moment when she stood in the circle of his arms and felt the touch of his mouth on hers, Kirstie
found it hard to wish it hadn't happened, whatever upheaval it had caused.
She seemed to have walked for miles, and yet it couldn't be so very far in reality, but Kirstie wished she could have foreseen a walk back before she rode so far. The smart brown leather bo
ots she wore for riding pinched unmercifully when she walked in them, and her mood worsened with every painful step.
She blamed herself for not having made more of an effort to stop Rosa Montaiies from taking the mare; she blamed Rosa Montanes for being so insanely jealous, and eventually she blamed Miguel for being the original cause of the whole thing. It was at that point that she noticed him in the distance, riding towards her along the dusty track between the trees, and she watched his approach with mingled anger and relief.
The fact that he had Scheherazade on a leading rein made it inevitable that he had seen Rosa Montaiies, she thought, and it made her ponder on what kind of a mood he was Hkely to be in. How had the other woman explained her possession of the mare? she wondered, and hoped it had not been without a certain amount of embarrassment.
Seeing he was bringing her her horse, Kirstie saw no ^ point in walking any farther and she leaned back against a tree to take as much weight as possible off her feet. Her anger had already diminished to some extent, and she was as much curious as anything as she watched him coming, lowering her eyes when he came to a halt and sat looking at her for a moment before he dismounted.
He tethered the stallion and brought the mare with him across to where she stood. 'Are you all right?' he asked, flinging Scheherazade's rein carelessly around a branch, and Kirstie nodded.
'My feet hurt, that's all; these boots weren't made for walking in.'
He took note of the dark look in her blue eyes and the slight thrust of her lower lip, and shook his head.
*And you're angry,' he said.
'I am!' She left the support of the tree, wincing when she took the weight on her tender left foot. *What do you expect me to be but angry? I've just been firmly put in my place, so I was informed, and I shouldn't think it's an experience anyone enjoys!'
'Rosa?'
He knew perfectly well it was Rosa, and the look Kirstie gave him condemned him for even asking. 'Of course!' she said, and brushed dust from her trousers with quick jerky movements of her hands. 'You know it i was, you must have seen her come back with my horse!'
'I saw her come back with your horse,' Miguel agreed in a voice that suggested he wasn't about to offer sympathy. 'But all she would say was that you needed to be taught a lesson and she'd put you afoot; ; I didn't stop to question her, I brought the mare back for you instead.'
'Thank you!' Rashly impulsive as always, she didn't pause to think before she went on, 'Although in the circumstances it might have been more tactful to have sent someone else with her, since you were the reason I was being put in my place!'
'/ was?' Kirstie was already regretting having been so outspoken, but there was nothing she could do to avoid the steady gaze he fixed her with. 'I think you'd better tell me the rest, having gone so far, Kirstie.' When she instinctively shook her head he gripped her arms and gave her a slight shake. 'What are you holding me responsible for now, eh?'
She used her hands in a vaguely helpless gesture, for it was embarrassing to have to tefl him the cause of Rosa Montaiies' jealousy. But the look on Miguel's face was enough to tell her that he wasn't going to let her off, and she sighed resignedly. 'It really wasn't—I mean there was really no need for her to make so much fuss about it. You remember the day Abuelo's car broke down and you made all those calls for me?' He nodded, and she flicked the tip of her tongue
swiftly across her lips. 'Well, it was afterwards—she saw you kiss me.'
'Oh, I see.' He sounded so unconcerned that for a moment Kirstie stared at him; as if it had been of so Httle importance that he had almost forgotten about it, and her senses rebelled at the very idea.
'Oh, I realise it wasn't anything important to you,' she declared, 'but Seiiora Montaiies took rather a different view! I must admit I can see her point to some extent when she has such a—a personal interest, but considering it was none of my doing I don't see why I should be the one who has to bear the brunt of her temper!'
Miguel was eyeing her narrowly and his fingers gripped her arms more tightly, so that she shrugged protest-ingly. 'A personal interest?'
He asked the question quietly, but the softness of his voice was in direct contrast to every other aspect of him, and because his mood was affecting her, she was drawn deeper and deeper into indiscretion. 'Of course I've heard that she considers you her own private property, and if Luis hadn't told me, I'd have had proof enough just now!'
'Her behaviour was proof of nothing except a woman's disHke of a younger and prettier woman,' Miguel argued harshly. 'And Luis should have better things to do with his time than discuss me—or anybody else in the family—with you!'
'The hired help!' Kirstie observed bitterly, and was appalled to realise how much it hurt to hear him speak as he did. 'At least you see eye to eye with her about that!'
Anxious to escape, she reached bHndly for the mare's rein, but before she could unwind it from the branch, Miguel's hand closed around her wrist and she was swung round to face him again. 'The hired help,' he agreed in a flat, harsh voice, 'if that's how you want to think of yourself, but don't attribute the idea to me! You're always so determined to put yourself in
the part of the downtrodden innocent, aren't you, Kirstie?' His eyes ghttered darkly at her and she was shivering; affected by the proximity of him and by the emotion charged atmosphere between them. The hired help!' he mocked, and she shook her head protest-ingly.
*It—it's how you see me—you and Senora Montanes,' she insisted huskily.
She was pulled firmly against him suddenly and gasped aloud at the unexpectedness of it. His arms had the unyielding hardness of steel, and there was no defence against the mouth that forced back her head with the fierceness of its pressure on her lips. She made only a small murmur of sound, but the heat of his body burned her like fire, and the stark, overt virility of him was an assault that made her own more vulnerable softness flinch in the first few seconds, before it inevitably yielded as he bound her still closer.
He had kissed her before on a couple of occasions, but nothing had prepared her for anything as fierce and breathtaking as this. Her strength seemed to have drained away and left her too weak to stand alone, and the violent beat of her pulse made sane reasoning impossible. It was like being submerged in a sea of flame and unable to draw breath, and she clung to him helplessly.
He released her mouth only very slowly, lingering on her parted lips while her breath fluttered unevenly, and only slowly did she return to reality. As she tried to clear her head, two big hands clasped her face between their palms and heavy-lidded eyes watched her mouth with a burning intensity for a moment before he spoke.
*Why do I always allow you to get under my skin?' Miguel whispered, and she vaguely noticed an unsteadiness in his voice, a huskiness deep in his throat that was incredibly affecting. She would have questioned his meaning, but he pressed his mouth again over hers and silenced her. *You do it all the time,' he told her.
'and I ought to be on my guard against it.'
The pulsing warmth of him was still too close to make rational thinking possible, and there were so many sensations coursing through her body that she had never known before; yet she could find nothing about him that had changed. Vaguely she began to wonder how much more jealous Rosa Montaiies would be if she had witnessed those last few moments, and yet she found it hard to regret even a moment of it.
A light pressure of fingertips on her cheeks made her glance upward, and she thought she had never before seen quite that look in his eyes, yet when he spoke his voice sounded quite normal again. 'Shall we go back?' he asked, and she automatically nodded agreement.
Somehow the normality of his voice and the matter-of-factness of the question suggested that he viewed what had just occurred with no more seriousness than he had that last occasion, and she twisted her head sharply sideways to free herself of his hands. Keeping her eyes downcast and her head low so that he could not see how flushed she was, she thanked heaven that the Hght was going rapidly, and tha
t soon it would be dark.'
The sun's glow spilled like blood over the pattern of irrigation channels and rice-fields, and among the trees the grillos were tuning up for the evening concert, shrilling harshly in the blood-red dusk. They were familiar sights and sounds, and yet for once Kirstie did not feel the sense of quiet she usually did in these circumstances.
Turning to mount, she found Miguel at her elbow and accepted his help without a word, catching her breath at the strength of those big, capable hands. 'Abuelo will think I've got lost! she said in a voice she strove to keep steady. But as they rode in silence back through the groves full of dark shadows, Kirstie won-, dered if, just for a few moments, she hadn't been utterly and completely lost.
*rd like to know exactly what happened,' said Luis, *and
Vm hoping you'll tell me, Kirstie.'
Last evening's episode was the last thing Kirstie wanted to talk about, and she did her best to shrug off his curiosity. Although she had already learned enough about Luis to realise he had the same stubborn persistence as Miguel when his mind was made up, and she hadn't really much hope of putting him off. 'Oh, it was nothing much,' she insisted.
'It must have been something,' Luis argued, 'I saw Rosa's face when she came in. What on earth had you done to make her look as furious as she did, Kirstie?'
Rosa Montanes' anger on that occasion, Kirstie thought, would have been because Miguel had gone looking for her, but she didn't say as much to Luis; only did her best to put him off. 'I didn't do anything,' she insisted. 'It was all rather silly.'
'To do with Miguel?' Luis guessed, then provided his own answer. 'Yes, it must have been to do with Miguel, nothing else would get Rosa into such a state. So—what was it, Kirstie?'
Kirstie sighed, resigned to the inevitable. 'Do you remember about a week ago my grandfather had some trouble with his car and I was worried in case he'd had an accident? Well, maybe you didn't hear about it, it wasn't really important to anybody but me, but at the time I was sick with worry and Miguel was very good about making enquiries for me. When it was all over I felt a bit—shaky with relief, and '
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