Is there absolutely no limit to the tenacity of this woman? he thought, why isn’t she fighting for her life? What does she hope to gain by this?
Did he really want to kill her? Could he bear to have her dead? Steve was suddenly, intensely aware of her small, firm breasts against his chest—the particular fragrance of her body that belonged only to her—the taste of her tears, the silky-soft texture of her hair. Without knowing how it happened he found his fingers tangled in her hair, instead of around her throat, and he was kissing her like a starving man; too much aware of the sudden, strong wave of desire that almost made him groan out loud with its intensity.
Damn her, damn her! He had almost killed her, and still she continued to cling to him, her little tongue darting into his mouth as she began to kiss him back with a fervor that surprised him even while it disgusted him.
It was intolerable to have his own treacherous weakness discovered and used by her to trap him—to wonder, even while he couldn’t stop kissing her, how many other men had been trapped by her beauty and their own desire—had kissed her and felt her kiss them back just as warmly—had taken her and buried themselves in her corrupt softness just as he longed to do.
He’d cursed her name and her memory a thousand times at least—over and over, until he felt the hate and disgust he’d begun to feel for her seared indelibly into his brain. And then she had to turn up out of the blue and throw herself at him shamelessly—tempting him almost beyond endurance…
With a sudden, brutal motion born of hate and desperation and self-disgust Steve brought both his hands down on her shoulders; fingers biting into soft flesh for just an instant before he flung her away from him—sending her staggering against the door. She stood there leaning there with her palms flat against it for support, her breathing sounding like sobbing, her eyes wide with shock.
“Oh—why? Why, Steve? Please—”
He ignored her panting, breathless cry of pleading; too busy with finding his own self-control again to care for her pain.
“Don’t push your luck any further, Ginny.” His voice was flat, harsh. “If you won’t get out of my life gracefully, then I’ll take myself out of yours—I don’t think I care for the thought that you still carry my name—even if you had the decency not to use it. If you won’t get an annulment, then I will.”
“Annulment!” Her sudden, passionate cry of rage made him lift one eyebrow in amazement. A moment ago she had been crying—pleading brokenly—and now she stood with her back straight and stiff against the door, her bare feet planted, chin tilted defiantly. “Do you dare remind me again of that night when you should have been with me and you chose Concepción instead? Is that why you want an annulment now? So you can marry that slut you had the bad taste to keep here, in my house?”
His voice sharpened with anger. “Concepción—what has she to do with this—this farce between us? And what did you and Paco do with her, anyway? Christ—did you think that by substituting yourself for her you could fob me off with your cheaply bought favors?” He took a step towards her, his mouth twisted dangerously. “You bitch! Where’s Concepción?”
“I got rid of her! Yes—did you think I’d tolerate your mistress here a minute after I’d arrived? She’s lucky I didn’t carve her up and destroy those overblown charms forever! You see, at least I have the courage to fight for what I want—which is something you seem to have lost.”
“What in hell are you talking about, you little puta? And how dared you send Concepción away?”
“I’ll tell you how I dared—by scaring the death out of her! And believe me, I’m beginning to feel you weren’t worth it—you coward! Yes—you can scowl all your want—do you think you scare me any longer with your loud threats and your blustering? You want me—you want me as much as I’ve wanted you all these months—and yet you’re no longer man enough to admit it! There was a time when you were sure enough of yourself to have taken me without another word, but no—you were afraid, weren’t you? Is that your problem now, Steve? That you feel you’re no longer man enough to please me?”
His face had gone white with anger under her wild, scornful words.
“Christ—” he said softly, the words coming from between his gritted teeth, “is there no trick you’re incapable of using? Is there anything too low for you? My problem, if you can call it that, is that I’ve stood here far too long—wasting my time on you. You can think what you please, Ginny, and do as you please. I’ve no more stomach for this pointless argument, or for you!”
He made as if to brush past her, actually laying his hand on the doorknob when the peculiarly taut, barely-controlled note he heard in her voice forced her back to his unwilling attention. “Steve!”
He swung around angrily to face her and thought bitterly that the tone of her voice should have warned him. Suddenly, amazingly, she had a knife at his throat; and as fast as his reactions usually were, this time the very unexpectedness of her smooth, pantherish movement took him completely by surprise. Moving very quickly on her bare feet she had suddenly pressed her body against his in almost the same motion; her left arm going around his waist while the knife point pressed threateningly against his neck, just below the ear.
Unbelievingly he began to laugh. “My God! This is too much—even from you!” He felt the pressure increase very slightly, just enough to break the skin, and stopped laughing, his eyes looking down into hers wonderingly.
He heard her say in the same coldly uninflected voice, “In case you’re wondering how far I will go, Steve, I should tell you that I’ve killed a man before, with a knife in his throat. So when you raise your arms, please don’t try anything foolish—this blade could slip very easily, as I’m sure you realize. Now if you’ll clasp your hands behind your head—and please move very slowly….”
“This is not happening—the crazy bitch—what in hell is she up to this time with this ridiculous game she’s playing?”
And yet at the same time he was thinking he’d begun to grit his teeth with rage and frustration, knowing he would play her stupid game to the finish—until he could get his hands on her.
Hardly daring to breathe, Ginny saw the anger flare in his eyes, making them glitter in the firelight as he narrowed them at her. Still, he obeyed her quietly enough although the rigidity of his muscles under her hand made her move the knife very slightly so that the slightest move on his part would indeed cause it to slip very easily, just as she had warned him.
“Are you going to tell me what you hope to gain by this stupid trick? Did you go to all this trouble merely to make sure I was dead this time?”
Surprisingly her mouth had begun to curve into a taunting, teasing smile.
“I don’t want you dead, Steve. I came here to find a husband. And since I’ve been reminded far too often that our marriage has never been consummated, I think you ought to remedy that. After all, you do owe me certain rights. I’m still your wife, whatever else you may choose to call me.”
“Dios!” Forgetting himself he swore in Spanish, hardly able to believe his ears. “You are crazy! Tell me, madam, do you seriously expect me to play the part of your—your damned stud—and at knife-point into the bargain?”
“Since you will be enjoying the favors of the highest-priced cortesana in all of Mexico City for nothing, don’t you think it’s a pretty good bargain, all things considered?” she said sweetly and then as his face darkened with anger her voice rose slightly. “Why do you look so stunned? How many times did you take me by force? Remember how you ripped the clothes off my body when I resisted you? Remember when I—”
“I remember a time when you used a knife on me before—” he said in a strange voice and she said abruptly, biting her lip to hide her emotion, “Lower one arm—your left—very slowly; and unbuckle that belt. How does it feel now it’s your turn to undress for me, lover?”
“I really can’t believe that you mean to go through with this ridiculous performance! Damn it, Ginny—” he broke off suddenly when th
e knife drew blood and stared down at her disbelievingly.
“Unbuckle your belt, Steve,” she said flatly and this time he lowered his left hand without another word and began to fumble with his belt buckle, still staring at her, with a new, strange expression creeping into his eyes.
“And now?” he said suddenly in a voice that sounded oddly choked with some kind of emotion she couldn’t read.
“Step out of them.”
He shrugged. “I’ve really got to hand it to you—I never thought I’d shuck my pants for a woman who held a knife at my throat! Do you make a habit of this?”
“Only when a man is extraordinarily stubborn,” she whispered, her hand beginning to caress his back.
His voice sounded sarcastic, but for an instant she thought she heard a note of repressed laughter in it. “Tell me, ma’am, do I have to wait for step by step instructions from you, or am I allowed to improvise occasionally?”
She became aware quite suddenly of the warmth of his hand against her belly, moving deliberately lower.
“How’s that, ma’am—does that please you? Anything to oblige the lady with the sharp knife.”
She gasped sharply, and found his eyes holding hers, with the dancing light of the fire reflected in their blueness.
“Don’t!”
“Why not? You know I’d forgotten—how soft your hair is—even here—”
“No, Steve!” All her anger and her defiance left her quite suddenly and she began to tremble.
“Be careful with that knife, Ginny—don’t you think it’s in the way now?”
His right hand was suddenly caught in her hair and she let the knife fall with a clatter between them. He kicked it away, along with his pants. With a sudden, savage movement he took a hold of her shirt at the back and ripped it apart.
“Now we’re even,” he said softly. And then, as he lifted her into his arms to carry her over to the bed, “What a persistent little vixen you are! I’m afraid I’m not strong enough to resist either your body or your threats—you see how easy I am to rape?”
He almost flung her down onto the bed and took his shirt off without removing his eyes from the seductive curves of her body. She was actually here—the little green-eyed, passionately sensuous woman he’d dreamed about and lusted for and hated. And she was his—he still could hardly believe the lengths she’d gone to just now, just to force him to admit that he wanted her. And God knew that in spite of every instinct that screamed warning at him he wanted her…
She held her arms out to him and clasped him passionately to her softly yielding body when he came to her. The passion that had always existed between them took over and she was ready for him without wanting or needing any further preliminaries. Her body arched fiercely up against his, just as achingly impatient for that first joining as his was.
She alone has the power to defeat me, Steve thought suddenly. She means trouble—she alone, of all the women I’ve known has been my downfall, my fatal weakness—but I’m incapable of resisting her any longer! She’s a bitch—she’s been a whore—but at this moment she’s only mine.
Never before, when they had made love, had she called out to him aloud, sobbing her love and her need as she did now. He felt a raging pang of jealousy for a moment, until her caressing hands, the spontaneous movements of her supple body blotted out everything but the fact of his own insatiable, unsatisfied need for her—for this particular woman above all others; this wild, bold sensual creature who gave herself to him with such complete abandonment that it was hard to believe that anything had ever existed between them but desire.
48
“What a lot you’ve learned!” Steve said reflectively. He leaned over Ginny’s prone body, propped up on one elbow; his free hand caressing her smooth flesh almost absentmindedly. “I’d always told myself what an apt pupil you were, but now I confess that your talents amaze even me.”
He bent his head to kiss the hollow at the base of her throat, feeling her pulsebeat under his lips. His exploring hand went lower and he heard her soft sigh. Her teeth caught in her lower lip as she stirred under his caresses.
He lifted his head suddenly and looked mockingly down into her half-closed eyes. “Yes—you certainly have changed my sweet. You’ve lost that delightfully intriguing modesty and shyness you once possessed! Now, when I tell you to open your legs you do so with no fuss. If I tell you, ‘turn over, we’re going to do it that way’—you oblige. Tell me, is there anything you haven’t tried yet?”
With her eyes closed, Ginny averted her face, turning her head sideways on the pillow.
“Steve—for God’s sake! I’ve told you everything—must you go on punishing me?”
“Perhaps I’m punishing myself as well—” he dropped his nude body over hers and caught a handful of her hair; rubbing his face in its softness. “You know—” he continued softly, “I’ve asked myself at least a thousand times why I didn’t kill you when you threw yourself at me so boldly. And why I continue to want you! Perhaps it’s because for a woman, you’re almost as depraved as I—and you make me curious.” His voice roughened. “Who taught you all your little whore’s tricks?”
Without any warning she felt his teeth sink savagely into the soft flesh of her shoulder and she shrieked; digging her nails into his back, only to find that just as suddenly he had begun to kiss, very tenderly and gently, the aching wound that he had just inflicted on her.
Why did he still have the power to do this to her? It’s because I love him, she thought hopelessly. It’s because I can’t stop loving him—in spite of the fact that he has never once told me that he loves me.
He had cupped her face between his palms as if he thought to mold and memorize its contours as he studied it through slitted blue eyes.
“You’ve grown more beautiful—your cheeks have developed the slightest hollow, and it serves to emphasize that wicked slant to your eyes. You look like a Hungarian gypsy! And your mouth—” he kissed it gently “—you have the most sensuous, promising mouth in all the world. I suppose I ought to consider myself lucky that I got you back—even if you are a trifle shopworn!”
He kissed her savagely, before she could do more than let out an angry gasp at the sudden brutality of his attack.
They spent three days together—alternately quarrelling or making love. Their quarrels had become duels of wits as well as words as they regarded each other cautiously, like adversaries.
In spite of the weakness in her that she admitted to herself, the hard lessons that Ginny had been forced to learn during the past months now stood her in good stead. She had learned how to erect a shell around herself and to withdraw sullenly behind it; allowing no trace of emotion to show on the surface. Sometimes, in sheer self-defense, she would throw up this same barrier between herself and Steve, particularly when he pushed her too far.
And it was this, above all things, that infuriated Steve Morgan most about his wife. She had changed, there was no doubt about it. And he had had no part in this change he resented so bitterly. He found himself wondering what kind of experiences had contributed to the strong, self-willed, independent woman she had become. She could use a knife with almost careless skill and swear like a man—and on the other hand she could cook better than most peasant women. She had changed in other ways too, as he was quick to point out to her. She had certainly learned all the techniques of a whore, along with a passionate abandon that was all her own. More particularly, she had learned how to resist—to withstand his cruellest taunts, his most calculated thrusts; retreating behind a shrug or a blank silence. She had become resilient, almost unreachable.
Ginny, his wife—during the short time they spent together he had learned that she was no longer the green girl he had first possessed. The very strength that she had gained from all the degrading experiences she had been subjected to, and the fact that she had somehow managed not only to rise above them but to win her own brand of independence against tremendous odds, annoyed him more than he could ever
admit to her. She should have broken, and she had not. It was he who still bore the scars of his experiences and still held the canker of bitterness locked inside him. She appeared to have managed quite easily to forget everything unpleasant; he could sense that she had glossed or skipped over some of the worst parts of her story when she had told it to him. How could she remain so unaffected? What kind of a woman had she really become? He couldn’t forgive her for the things she had done of her own accord and even some of the things she had let herself be forced to do—and what made it worse was that she had never asked him to forgive her either!
Three days. Steve had told her grudgingly that it was all he could manage at the moment, and he had no idea when he might be back next. Alternately happy and miserable, Ginny had to be content with that.
At least she had found him again! She found herself wondering about the changes she noticed in him; studying this stranger who was her lover and her husband in almost the same covert way that she sensed he was studying her.
He wanted her. She could be sure of that much at least. She exulted in the blaze of desire she could always discern in his eyes when he looked at her, and yet—he never spoke of loving her, only of wanting her. Just once she had dared to ask him boldly if he loved her, and his derisive laugh pierced her more deeply than she let him see on the surface.
“Love! That’s a funny word to hear on your lips, baby. Is that what you called it when you gave yourself to a legion of lovers?”
“Oh God, Steve! You’re the only man I have ever loved. Why else do you think you have the power to hurt me?”
“I don’t think any man can really hurt you, sweetheart. You’re too strong, too resilient—you’ll always manage, somehow, to survive—won’t you?”
He was cruel, and yet he could be tender with her too. He wanted to know everything about her past—every sordid detail he could force her to admit to; and yet he would tell her very little of what had happened to him. Jealously, Ginny pressed for more details of his relationship with the Condesa de Valmes, and he raised an amused eyebrow.
Sweet Savage Love Page 61