She snuggled closer to the warmth until she suddenly realized that she rested in someone’s arms. And then she recognized the scent... it belonged to her husband.
Her eyes popped open and she stared at his naked chest. Her body was pressed against his and—good Lord—he was naked. And her leg was tucked between his two and to make matters worse her night dress had ridden up almost to her waist.
What was he doing in her bed—his bed—their bed. She didn’t know what to do. Did she jump up and run? But where would she go? He was her husband and had every right to come to their bed.
She breathed a heavy sigh and her lips grazed his chest and—Lord forgive her—he was tasty. Whatever was the matter with her? She should be thinking of means of escape not how tangy his warm flesh tasted.
He hadn’t moved, perhaps he was still asleep and she could slip out of bed, grab her clothes, and slip out of the room without waking him. Did she dare raise her head and look at him or slip carefully out of his arms?
She shifted a bit to see what would happen and when nothing did, she assumed he was asleep. She shifted again hoping she could work her way out of his embrace without disturbing him. When he continued to remain still, she continued her efforts until... she stopped moving.
She felt something poke her between her legs and suddenly her entire body flushed with a deep heat that she feared would set her on fire. Had her squirming aroused him? She had foolishly never considered the consequences of her actions.
Her friend Marinda and she would talk in whispers about sex, Marinda telling her things that made her blush, smile, and sometimes laugh. She had told Rosa once about how Paco always woke hard, ready for them to make love.
Her body stiffened. Was Esteban awake?
Now what was she to do?
She remained still and gave her predicament thought, and then an idea hit her. She could shift a bit more carefully again and stretch her way out of his arms and roll to her side, as if she was just drifting awake.
Courage, she warned herself, though it took her a few minutes to convince herself that it could actually work. With a thumping heart and trepidation, she moved slowly and began to work her arms up for a stretch when suddenly...
She was flat on her back with Esteban’s naked body hovering over her. His hands were planted on either side of her head, his arms extended, the muscles taut so that his chest did not touch hers. His arousal however poked between her legs, the wet tip planted firmly against her.
A tingle sparked in her lower region and grew as he shifted against her, as she had done to him. He didn’t say a word to her, though his dark eyes bore into her with such flaming heat that her spark began to burn brighter and stronger.
Esteban fought for control. He had woken shocked to find himself in bed with his wife and then he recalled why he was there. He had silently cursed himself a thousand times over for not having left after she had calmed, but she had rested so comfortably in his arms and he had... slept through the remainder of the night without waking. He had not done that since his return.
It had been his growing arousal that had woken him and he thought to face another morning of seeing to his own mounting need, when he woke to find his wife in his arms. He didn’t know what overcame him when she went to move away from him. But his reaction was instinctive. He flipped her on her back and trapped her with his body.
He now could easily plunge into her and satisfy his need that was burning beyond control, beyond anything he ever felt before. He could smell her sweet scent and the thought that she was growing wet for him pushed him nearer to the edge of losing control. It would be quick, for he had been without a woman far too long, but he would have no trouble hardening again and taking her repeatedly. A quick image of him mounting her, had him cursing silently. He tried to shake it away. It wasn’t right. He couldn’t think of her like that. He had no need to claim her as his woman... she already belonged to him. She was his wife. He had returned to civilized society and there was no need to claim a woman the way Pacquito’s band of men did by riding a woman for all to see.
He clamped his eyes shut trying to stop another memory from invading his mind, Pacquito with a gun to a young woman’s head ready to shoot her if Esteban didn’t claim her in front of the men. He had had no choice, take her or watch her die. She had had no choice either. He did what he had to do. Now he had a choice and he would not bring such filth upon his wife. She was thoughtful and kind and if he intended to seal their wedding vows he would need to take her with tenderness and consideration.
The problem was he didn’t know if he was capable of either.
Get off her now!
The silent warning reverberated in his head until it pounded like a hammer against his temples.
Take her and be done with it!
He shook his head at the arguing voice that grew louder and louder in his head, until his eyes popped open and his mouth reached for hers.
Rosa didn’t have time to grasp at the shock of his kiss. The suddenness of it jolted her, but she found that she favored the way he kissed her. His commanding way forced her to respond in kind and share in the kiss. Otherwise, she might have been too nervous to respond at all.
She wasn’t sure what was happening to her, but it felt good and oh so right. After all, he was her husband and they had the right to make love.
He tore his mouth away from hers suddenly and he seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then he lowered his mouth to her nipple, his tongue circling the already hardened nub before he took it into his mouth and suckled it.
She thought that she would die from pleasure.
Esteban had never tasted anything so exquisite and it sent his body reeling with passion. If he didn’t stop soon he would take her and it wouldn’t be just once. He would have her over and over and over.
He ripped his mouth away to rest his brow to hers, his breathing heavy as he said, “I’m a savage, and I will take you like a savage, innocent or not.”
He jumped off her and strode out of the room.
Rosa watched her naked husband walk away and shivered, not from his words of warning, but from the empty ache that left her wanting... him.
She didn’t believe her husband was a savage or that he would take her like one, or perhaps it was that she didn’t want to believe it. What she did believe was that it would be inevitable... they would seal their wedding vows. Nothing would stop it. And surprisingly, she didn’t want it to.
~~~
Rosa could see that Don Alejandro and Dona Valerianna were pleased with her appearance when she joined them for breakfast on the brick patio. She had fought the urge to once again don peasant garb and had dressed as was befitting her new station, that of Esteban’s wife. She wore a pale yellow dress overpowered with lace. She would never get used to dressing as if she was forever attending a celebration. She wondered if perhaps she could have other garments made that more suited her, yet still pleased her new in-laws.
“You look lovely, my dear,” Dona Valerianna said with an approving smile. “Of course you will need more garments, two dresses will not be enough. I will speak with the seamstress and have her start on a wardrobe for you.”
Here was her chance and she took it. “You are so busy, Dona Valerianna, it would please me to see to the chore for you.”
The woman smiled and seemed hesitant to speak. A nod from her husband, as if a command had her saying, “That is thoughtful of you. Lita is an excellent seamstress and will guide you wisely in design and what garments you will need.”
So that was why she hesitated, the woman did not think her capable of the task.
“My wife will tell the seamstress what garments she requires and she will dress how she pleases and if that means she wishes to wear a peasant skirt and blouse then so be it,” Esteban said joining them on the brick patio where breakfast was being served this morning.
Dona Valerianna paled while staring speechless at her son.
Rosa was surprised by his remark since
he had ordered her to dress appropriately. Now he was saying she could dress as she pleased, upsetting his mother. No doubt she was worried that Rosa would embarrass the Cesare name if she were to prance around in peasant garb.
Rosa would never be so disrespectful, though with her husband’s remark she could now see to having dresses made that better suited her without worry of repercussions.
Silence circled the table for a few moments before Don Alejandro cleared his throat to speak. “Esteban, I have documents that must be delivered to Padre Marten today. I thought perhaps you could deliver them for me and Rosa could accompany you so that she would be able to visit with her friend.”
Esteban was well aware of what his father was attempting to do... force him to spend time alone with his wife. His sly tactics weren’t going to work and Esteban was about to tell him just that when he caught the look of joy on his wife’s lovely face. And his words died on his lips.
“That would be wonderful for then you could stop at the mercantile,” Dona Valerianna added, “and see if there is any news from your sister. In her last letter she told us she would write before she left Spain and the drawing material I ordered for Rosa might have arrived as well.”
Esteban might have refused—out of sheer stubbornness—his parents’ request, but the way his wife’s eyes turned wide at the mention of drawing material settled it. He would take her to town.
“As you wish, Father,” Esteban said and both his parents’ mouths dropped open, though they closed them fast enough and replaced them with joyful smiles.
Rosa was delighted and was about to ask Don Alejandro if it would be possible to take a couple of oranges to her friend Marinda when instead she looked to her husband. “Esteban, would it be permissible for me to take my friend some oranges fresh from the orchard?”
A bone aching chill raced through him at her request. It reminded him of all the times he had had to seek permission just to eat. And he’d be damned if his wife would be made to do the same.
“You need not ask permission for such a trivial matter. Take what fruit you want for your friend, the orchard belongs to you now as much as to me.”
His father took the opportunity to remind his son. “And the land will pass to your sons, of I pray there will be many.”
Esteban expected his wife to blush at the mere mention of children. After all they would have to consummate their vows for that to even be a consideration. So her words caught him by surprise and the fact that she did so with a smile and not the least bit of shyness.
“And daughters. It would be lovely to have a daughter or two.” Rosa looked to Dona Valerianna who was also smiling. “You must miss your daughter.”
“Very much, which is why I am eager for her to return home, but I also look forward to being a grandmother.” Dona Valerianna’s smile grew. “It would be wonderful to have the hacienda filled with children’s laughter once again.”
Esteban stared at his wife as she spoke with his mother. She sounded as if she not only would fulfill her duty and produce one child, but that she wished for more. Did that mean she wasn’t opposed to his touch?
Damn, if the thought didn’t turn him hard. Could there possibly be a chance for them to have a good marriage? To have children? To care for each other?
To fall in love?
A foolish thought he dismissed immediately. There wasn’t an ounce of love left in him, Pacquito had seen to driving it completely out of him and replacing it with hate. Hate is what had helped him to survive and he feared he could never stop hating.
Esteban stood, having finished barely half of what was on his plate and looked to his wife. “We leave in ten minutes.” He strode out of the room, his heart pounding, and his groin aching.
He fought the sinful images in his head that took hold as he walked through the hacienda. He was forever thinking of her naked and what he would do to her and in different ways and repeatedly. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of her. He could almost feel himself slamming into her over and over and it wasn’t cries of pain that escaped her lips but pleasure. In his thoughts she enjoyed everything he did to her and that made him grow even harder.
~~~
Esteban took the smaller of the carriages, the one he could drive himself. He wanted no driver listening to their private conversation, and then gossiping about it. Not that they had spoken since they had left the hacienda, which he was about to rectify.
But Rosa spoke before he could. “Marinda is going to be so happy when I give her these oranges.” She smiled down at the basket filled with the plump fruit. “It was thoughtful of your father to have someone pick the oranges for me, though it wasn’t necessary. I so enjoy doing it myself.”
“He wasn’t being thoughtful. He didn’t want his new daughter picking fruit like a common laborer.”
Rosa sighed. “I wondered if perhaps that was the reason.”
Esteban looked over at her and it disturbed him that her smile had faded, though hadn’t entirely disappeared. He liked when she smiled, it made him feel—damn—it actually made him feel. It was as if when he looked upon her smile he felt a bit of her happiness. And he could not recall the last time he knew happiness.
“I’ll take you to pick fruit.” He didn’t know what made him say it, though he didn’t regret it, at least he hoped he wouldn’t.
Her smile brightened once again. “That would be wonderful. Did you pick fruit when you were a young boy?”
He stiffened not wanting to recall his youth but he needn’t worry, she went right on talking and he enjoyed listening.
“The Curros would have me go and pick fruit on the one day the haciendas would open their orchards to the townspeople. The fruits were the last before harvest, the ones not good enough to pick, though the people treasured the opportunity and picked the trees bare. Every now and then I would get lucky and find a good fruit. I would find a place where no one could see me and eat it.” She laughed. “It would be the only fruit I would get since the Curros would not let me have any of the fruit I brought home.”
Esteban turned to her stunned. “They didn’t let you eat any after all the work you did?”
“Not a one,” Rosa said without malice. “Roberto accused me of having my fill while I picked the fruit. Fruit he insisted belonged to them, so therefore I didn’t deserve anymore.”
“I knew I should have killed him that day.”
Rosa didn’t think twice about her reaction or response, her hand went to rest gently on his arm. “No, you are not that man anymore. You are free.”
Free.
He had yearned for freedom these many years and he still did. He didn’t feel free and he wondered if he ever would and yet—sitting here next to his wife—he felt somewhat content. Could being wed to her make a difference? Could she help him... or would he destroy her?
She squeezed his arm lightly. “So tell me did you pick fruit when you were young?”
“All the time,” he said the side of his mouth lifting in a partial smile.
It warmed Rosa’s heart to see that slight smile, though it faded too quickly. His brow knit and he appeared to drift off, no doubt into memories that were anything but pleasant. Dare she ask him? If she didn’t, how could she even begin to understand him? She did not want to spend a lifetime fearing her husband. And there was too many times he put fear into her and that wasn’t what she wanted in her marriage.
With her heart thumping and her stomach roiling, she took a chance and asked, “It must have been difficult for you being captured so young?”
“Young?” He sneered. “According to Pacquito I was a man and I deserved a man’s punishment when I disobeyed him, which seemed to be a daily occurrence.”
“How frightened you must have been,” she said and wishing to comfort him, she gave his arm another gentle squeeze.
“I don’t need your sympathy,” he snapped and she pulled her hand away, as if he had slapped it. He cursed silently, having enjoyed the feel of her hand on his arm and t
he way she had squeezed it now and again to emphasis her words or perhaps her feelings.
Rosa contained the shiver that wanted to race through her. His abruptness frightened her, perhaps because when the Curros had spoken to her in such a fashion it had always been followed by the slap of a hand or the strap. She would immediately turn silent and obey them. But then hadn’t Esteban experienced the same, only to a greater degree. She could not imagine surviving such an ordeal. Esteban certainly had proved just how much of a courageous man he truly was. And being he had defended her against Roberto, she felt the need to defend him against what Pacquito had created.
Refusing to surrender to her quaking limbs and nervous stomach, she spoke up, “It isn’t sympathy I offer, but rather friendship. Can we not be friends and at least care for each other as such?”
I want more.
The thought startled him, though he didn’t show it, nor did he understand it. It would do well to be friends with his wife and yet... he wanted more. What more was there? Love? A foolish, irrational thought.
“You wish to be friends with a savage?”
Her hand returned to his arm. “I wish to be friends with my husband.”
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “I want more.”
Chapter Eleven
Rosa had no chance to ask him what he meant by more and she wondered if he had made the remark purposely so that she would not have a chance to respond since they had just entered the town and eased to a stop at the Mercantile, the first building on the right.
“Stay where you are,” Esteban said. “I’ll only be a moment.”
Rosa watched as men moved out of his way and women would not even dare go near him. Two crossed the street and blessed themselves as they went. One woman grabbed her young son by his shirt collar to stop him from crossing Esteban’s path. And two women rushed out of the Mercantile shortly after he had entered.
Her heart went out to her husband. He was treated as if he had some horrible disease that one could catch if they got too near him, though that wasn’t true. At least they would have sympathy for such a person, his illness not being his fault. No, they feared Esteban, thought him the devil’s own and blamed him for remaining with Pacquito as long as he had and not escaping.
Renegade Love (Rancheros) Page 8