Loving Lies

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Loving Lies Page 8

by Tina Donahue


  “Why did you stop?” he asked. “Did you see something untoward?” He glanced around.

  She ordered her heart to slow. “No.”

  “Then why did you stop?”

  “My throat was dry. I needed to swallow.”

  “You surely have by now, so finish what you meant to say.”

  How could she? “I forgot where I stopped.”

  “You were saying Sancha is more intelligent than any man.” Fernando shook his head as though he couldn’t imagine such a thing and pulled in another strained breath. “You said she is el. El what?”

  Isabella thought hard and by some miracle had an answer. “Elegant.”

  “Elegance makes her crave knowledge?”

  “She is quite the lady, taking after our mamá.”

  “I see.”

  He obviously didn’t yet seemed ready to accept her answer as he resumed walking. “Does your mamá own the castaño rojizo tresses you and your sisters were blessed with?”

  Isabella frowned. He didn’t recall any of the betrothal ceremony, not even meeting her mamá?

  Fernando suddenly seemed to realize his blunder. He cleared his throat. “Many years have passed since the signing of the contracts. At the time I had eyes only for you.”

  And he called her a liar.

  “Does the color of your hair and your sisters’ match your mamá’s?”

  “We resemble her closely.”

  “She must be quite the beauty even now.” He panted harder. “I long to see her, again, to tell her—what is it?”

  She’d tensed against him.

  He looked from side to side. “What did you see?”

  When she didn’t answer, Fernando looked over. She turned her face away.

  “I caused you pain. What was it I said this time?”

  His question surprised her. Although he wasn’t a deliberately thoughtless man, his lack of concern for the Lopéz de Lara family wounded her. “My parents are dead. They died only a short time ago. Surely, you must remember the events.”

  “I had no idea.” He sounded genuinely sorry. “No one told me. I spend my time in Granada, not with my own family. Forgive me for causing you such anguish. Know this though, as my betrothed you have my protection.”

  She lowered her face.

  The sounds of Fernando’s footfalls, strained breathing, and chirping insects filled the silence.

  He cleared his throat. “Did your parents succumb to the fever?”

  Their deaths had been far more painful and artfully staged by Don Rodrigo. First, he felled her papá, and when her mamá resisted his advances, he murdered her. Unfortunately, Isabella couldn’t tell Fernando any of the truth without revealing everything.

  Not knowing what to say, she rested her head on his shoulder, sighed deeply, and feigned sleep.

  Chapter 5

  What a fool he was, or perhaps he’d been at war too long. It had dulled his ability to approach a subject she didn’t want to discuss. There seemed to be many of those, given the way she kept interrupting herself. Each time Fernando asked her to continue she’d either change the subject or offer an explanation so fantastic it strained belief.

  She must be badly frightened if she’d feign sleep to keep it from him. Perhaps she feared her other sisters would be abducted, too. Perhaps Isabella’s abductors had threatened her with something far worse.

  This evening, the sky sparkled with stars and a fat moon. Wasn’t it the same moon as last night and the nights before? Weren’t the stars as plentiful? Hadn’t he returned Isabella’s future to what it had been prior to her abduction? Why did she lack faith in his protection?

  It was hardly like him to ponder such matters. His thoughts on this one ended when he realized Isabella had actually fallen asleep. Her limp arms dangled down his chest, her breath tickled his ear, and her weight seemed to have doubled. She was now heavier than a boulder and in such danger of falling, he hunched his back to keep her in place.

  His efforts hardly improved matters. Her arms swayed, while her right foot struck him wherever it pleased. He was ready to drop her on the ground when he spied a faint light ahead. Countless steps later, he spotted a structure and teetered to a stop.

  * * * *

  Isabella pressed her face against something so warm and comforting she needed to get closer. Once she had, the last of her sleep receded and her heart raced. She was rubbing her cheek against Fernando’s neck. The moment she stopped and eased away, he turned his face to her. His moon-washed features were far too tempting, making her desire him more than she should.

  Closing her eyes, she pretended to fall back to sleep.

  Fernando spoke sharply. “Isabella.”

  She bit the inside of her lip and drew her brows together as if he’d pulled her from her newest slumber.

  He jostled her. “A venta lies to the left.”

  An inn? She turned toward the structure, surprised to see she and Fernando were in a field away from the main path.

  “The gate remains open. Light shines inside.”

  The heavy moon cast shadows on a crudely constructed mud building, one story tall with a sagging roof. Beyond it were pens for pigs and chickens, a well, and a brief garden.

  “How can such a vile place be an inn? Even an animal would find it lacking.”

  Fernando grunted as he released her legs and straightened.

  She eased her arms from his shoulders and should have backed away but went with her foolish heart instead and sagged against him.

  He swayed with her weight and braced himself. “Do you need a moment to ease the stiffness from your legs?”

  “I do.” As Isabella pretended to work them, she pressed her cheek against his broad back and filled herself with his scent, savoring his heat and strength, because she needed to remember it. This night and a few more days would be all they’d have. He wasn’t hers. He’d never be hers. Although sorrow tightened her throat, she had no choice except to finally push away and go to his side.

  Wind pushed stray tendrils across her face.

  Fernando regarded her in the ashy light. “See to your hair and hat.” His hand remained on the hilt of his sword as he viewed the moonlit countryside. “And your shirt.”

  When she’d slid down his back, the garment had bunched above her hose. Once her hair was fully beneath the hat and the shirt was where it should be, Isabella opened her arms and presented herself. “Do I now resemble a boy?”

  A smile played across Fernando’s sensual lips. “Not even if I was blind.” He pulled her to him and covered her left breast with his free hand. Her lips parted in wonder. As his thumb grazed her erect nipple and his long fingers squeezed her flesh, she lifted her face to the sky.

  He pressed his mouth to her ear. “Tonight I introduce you as my younger brother Tomás. Answer to his name, understand?”

  She sighed at his closeness and heat, finally remembering to nod.

  He kept his cheek pressed to hers a moment longer before he stepped back and resumed checking the area. “While I arrange our lodging keep your face lowered.” He grabbed her wrist and tugged her toward the road. “Come.”

  Although she obeyed him readily, she couldn’t imagine they’d find lodging here, especially a private chamber, which was surely for the best. If she allowed Fernando to seduce her until she relieved him of his pledge, she could conceive his child tonight and lead them to ruin.

  Upon closer inspection, the venta was worse than she’d first thought. Shallow pockmarks marred the inn’s mud walls. Dark brown stains covered its battered door. Some poor soul’s blood? A frail old man blocked the entry. His face was unshaven, feet unshod, his fist clutching a meat cleaver soiled with the remains of what Isabella guessed was an animal.

  He shouted, “State your purpose here.”

  When another traveler passed and disappeared around the building, Isabella remembered to lower her face. Although it was late, voices rose from the
back of the inn.

  “We need a chamber for the night,” Fernando said. “One my younger brother and I can share with each other, not other travelers.”

  Isabella slid her gaze to him.

  “My brother needs privacy to say his prayers. Once we reach the monastery, he begins his service to the Order.”

  The landlord offered no response.

  Isabella was more than ready to leave. Fernando gripped her wrist to keep her at his side. He extended his other hand to the landlord, a ducat glistening in his palm. The landlord rubbed the blunt end of the cleaver against his whiskered jaw as he stared at the gold coin.

  She sensed it was more money than he’d ever seen, and the first time a traveler had offered to pay for lodging before using it.

  The landlord smiled. “I can give you my widowed sister’s chamber.”

  Isabella went hot then cold. The night stretched before her suddenly, in a room alone with Fernando.

  He bounced the coin in his hand. “The gold is yours, once I see the chamber and it meets with my favor.”

  “It will. Your brother will find my accommodations perfect for his prayers once I move my sister from the room. No more than a moment is needed before I return.” He hurried inside, his naked feet slapping the floor.

  Fernando ran his thumb over her wrist. Her arm tingled, her body coming alive with unbearable need, her heart and soul aching for more. She resisted for as long as she could and finally turned to him.

  Desire filled his eyes. “Soon, we will have our chamber.”

  Her pulse quickened. She imagined his large hands on her, stroking, arousing, demanding as they had in the stream. There, she and Fernando were out in the open, vulnerable to discovery or attack. What would he do once they were safely behind walls? What would she finally allow, only a kiss or a caress as good sense demanded, or everything as her heart craved? Her breathing grew so strained she mewled.

  The landlord took that moment to return and gave her a strange look. He gestured for them to follow him.

  With his fingers around her wrist, Fernando led her past the entry. The area smelled of cabbage and garlic. They passed a dusty room, crowded with sacks of grain, to a courtyard with meager plants, then to a part of the building where a door stood ajar.

  Fernando stuck his head inside the chamber. Seconds later, he tossed the coin to the landlord, who retreated quickly, leaving them alone.

  Fernando turned to her. She should have looked away but couldn’t. Already she was lost, helpless to resist. Smiling, he swept her into his arms and kicked the chamber door fully open. Once inside, he kicked the door closed and lowered his mouth to hers, his tongue plunging inside.

  Yearning warred with caution and guilt. Desire won. Isabella cradled the side of his face. She drove her fingers through his hair, pushing off his hat as he possessed what he thought was his. She wanted no other. His lips were achingly soft, his beginning beard rough, their kiss noisy and shameless as she suckled his tongue, relishing a taste that was his alone. He pushed at her hat until it fell off and her hair cascaded over her shoulders. Tightening his embrace, he made sounds betraying his delight, the same as she did. Their pleasure lasted far longer than their fatigue should have allowed and ended only when both of them needed a full breath.

  With her cheek pressed to his, she finally glanced at the widow’s chamber. Broken crockery and pieces of wood littered the earthen floor. The bed was no more than a heap of straw pushed against the pitted wall. To the right was a weary table, to the left a listing chair. Moonlight streamed through a hole in the roof and between the slats of the wooden screen placed over the window.

  Oddly enough, the lack of comfort didn’t matter to her. Alone with Fernando, she had little defense against his passion or her own unless she revealed the truth.

  Not wanting to, she sighed.

  “We required shelter and now we have it.” He inclined his head to the sorry room, clearly misunderstanding her distress. After putting Isabella on her feet, he latched the door, pulled his sword from its scabbard, and clamped its hilt in her palm.

  The weapon was quite light and deadly. “What am I to do with this?”

  Before he could answer, a man and woman passed the window, speaking.

  “Your price is too high,” the man said.

  “I promise to bring you great pleasure.”

  “I can only pay for good pleasure, not great.” He left.

  The woman followed, negotiating her new price.

  Isabella’s face warmed. She held up Fernando’s weapon. “What am I to do with this?”

  Once it was quiet outside, he turned to her. “Keep my sword at your side at all times. Use it to defend yourself against anyone who would dare enter the chamber during my absence.”

  His what?

  He opened the screen, glanced outside, and put one leg over the base of the window that was scarcely wide enough for a grown man to move through. She dropped his sword and grabbed his other leg before he could quit this place and her.

  He lowered his head to muffle his laughter. “Though your unexpected ardor is welcomed, I beg of you, release me.”

  “Where are you going? Why are you leaving me here unprotected?”

  He lifted his head. “Unprotected? You had my sword before you dropped it.”

  “Fernando, please. Where are you going without your sword?”

  “I have my dagger. I merely want to fetch something to eat and see about a mule or a horse. You must be hungry, no? You must be weary of walking, no?”

  She was but wanted him in this hellish chamber rather than outside where he might be waylaid and unable to return. Her hunger and fatigue didn’t matter. His safety did. “No.”

  “Your growling belly and my aching back say otherwise.” When he was on the other side, he rested his elbows on the base of the window. “The door is surprisingly sturdy. Not even a strong kick will bring it down. Stay away from it.”

  “Even when you return and want to come back inside?”

  “This window will be fine. The latch on the door is warped and too hard for you to handle.” He cradled her cheek. “Allow no one inside.”

  When she turned her face, wanting to press her mouth to his palm, Fernando pushed her away from the window and closed the screen before she could stop him.

  “Fernando!”

  By the time she’d opened the screen, he was already disappearing around the structure. She was of a mind to follow, yet doubted she could catch up given his quick pace. Was he going to ask the landlord for food and a mule or a horse? If not, Fernando’s only other option would be to purchase one in a nearby village and hunt for their meal or go to a stream to catch a fish.

  Whatever his plan, she wanted him to return quickly. The outside shadows seemed to hold naught except danger for him. Each sound, no matter how innocent, made her flinch.

  She regarded his sword. Without it, all he had for protection was a puny dagger and the skill of a warrior who’d ably fought the Moors. He was no boy, nor was he a fool. In time, he’d return and continue to her papá’s castle, where he’d abandon her once he learned of her lies.

  She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead then dropped her arm quickly. Despite the limited time she had with him, at least they had tonight. Determined to make the most of their moments together and the few to follow, she closed the screen and studied the shadowed chamber, hoping to improve its appearance.

  After tossing the broken crockery to one side, she beat the straw with Fernando’s sword to rid it of vermin. It proved to be relatively clean. She fashioned the straw into a crude bed she’d soon be sharing with him, their bodies close, lips touching, hands exploring.

  Sighing deeply, she gathered the wood and placed it on the blackened dirt directly beneath the hole in the roof. With the makings of a fire started, she checked the latch on the door. As he’d said, it was warped and difficult to lift.

  With his sword in hand,
she sank to the floor and sagged against the wall, listening to her own ragged sighs and the sounds of the night. A horse galloped down the road. Wind rustled leaves. Nearer to the window insects chirped. Somewhere lovers embraced.

  He would never be hers.

  It was a truth she couldn’t change, and yet her mind created a more pleasant outcome. She imagined herself and Fernando at her papá’s castle. Many months would have passed since their arrival and his ousting of Don Rodrigo. As her uncle remained imprisoned and Sancha resided at the convent, Isabella would be Fernando’s wife. Long ago, he would have forgiven her lies and understood her need to protect Sancha. The loss of her papá’s wealth wouldn’t have bothered him.

  She would be all he would need.

  Already she’d be carrying his child. Each night as she lay beside him, Fernando would rest his hand on her swollen belly and take her with great care so he wouldn’t harm the infant nestled within. His actions would speak of a love he couldn’t deny. He’d murmur their pledge.

  Isabella smiled then jerked in alarm, hitting the back of her head against the wall. She rubbed the spot and blinked until she could focus. Glancing about the moon-washed space, she tried to recall what had just occurred. One minute she’d been slumbering, though she hardly recalled falling asleep, and in the next she was alert.

  What had awakened her?

  Isabella lifted her face and gaped at the leg dangling over the base of the window. She was on her feet in a flash, swinging the sword in front of her.

  An object dropped to the ground. The intruder reared back. “It appears you missed me far less than I had hoped.”

  Fernando? She bounced on her heels and flapped her hand. “What are you doing creeping back in so quietly? I might have run you through. You should have warned me of your return.”

  “I called your name several times. You never answered.”

  Because she’d been asleep. She withdrew the sword and tossed it aside. “Forgive me. Come.” She grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him inside the chamber.

 

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