Luke

by Leigh Greenwood

  "That's right."

  "Regardless of what the fight is about." "Yes."

  "Don't you care about the people in the conflict?"

  "No."

  They had just left an area of oak, juniper, and manzanita. Squirrels and chipmunks scampered across the rocky ground while jays and hawks called noisily from above. She half-expected Luke to shoot one of the whitetailed deer they spotted, but he didn't appear to notice the inquisitive animals.

  She welcomed the drop in temperature that came when they entered a forest of ponderosa pine. She was delighted by a pair of turkeys ambling through the dappled light of the forest floor, their new chicks running ahead of them, eager to explore every aspect of their new world. It was beginning to look more like her own country. Luke had said Rudolf's ranch was in mountainous country full of trees. She hoped it would look like this.

  The narrow trail forced them to ride single file. She had a prolonged view of his broad back, the powerful hindquarters of his horse as they rose and fell. She liked her sleek, racy mount, but she liked the look of Luke's more powerfully muscled horse. She'd ask him to let her ride it one day.

  "How long does the trail stay like this?" she called out.

  "I don't know."

  That startled her. "You mean you don't know this road?"

  "There are far too many trails in the West for any one man to know. You learn to trust your instincts."

  "And your instincts say this trail is safe?"

  "It's been worn smooth by wild animals. That means it's a good route to somewhere."

  "Where?"

  "Wherever they go for food or shelter."

  The forest had changed to pine, aspen, and fir. A thick carpet of needles muffled the sound of their horses' hooves, and Valeria became more aware of the sounds around her, the squawk of goshawks calling among the treetops, the chatter of squirrels, the scratching of some animal as it dug under the straw for grubs, the whirr of hummingbird wings among flowers that had sprung up in every opening between the trees. It reminded her of her youth when she'd been allowed to take long rides in the forest or go on picnics and long walks. All that had ceased when she reached marriageable age. She'd forgotten how much she enjoyed the freedom to wander through the outdoors, unconcerned about the safety of her clothes or her skin.

  "We'd better stop here," Luke said. "We'll have to start back soon."

  They'd reached a small, blessedly cool section of the pine forest, the first time Valeria could remember being truly comfortable since she reached New Orleans. She knew there was no point in asking Luke to let them camp here for a few nights. It would have been impossible to bring the wagons up that trail.

  Luke dismounted and dropped his reins. She expected to see his horse wander, but the animal stood perfectly still.

  "Why doesn't he run away?" she asked. "He's ground hitched."

  She'd never heard such a thing. Her mount would wander off at the first opportunity. Luke walked toward an opening in the forest. When he realized she wasn't following, he turned around.

  "You'd better get down," he said. "Give your muscles a chance to relax."

  "I can't dismount by myself."

  She had ridden sidesaddle, the only way she knew, and couldn't dismount without help or a set of steps.

  "Just unhook your leg and slide out of the saddle," Luke said.

  "I can't. You have to lift me down."

  He glared at her for a moment, his expression hard and unfriendly. "If I'd known that, I wouldn't have suggested we stop."

  "Well, we have, and I'd like to get down."

  He hesitated so long she thought he might refuse. Then he stalked toward her.

  "Stop!" she exclaimed when he seemed about to wrench her from the saddle. "You can't snatch me off like a sack of grain. You have to hold me while I unhook my leg."

  Again he paused. She didn't understand his reluctance. He might not like royalty, but he didn't have to act as if touching her would infect him with some incurable disease. As though making a sudden resolution, he placed his hands on her waist and lifted her out of the saddle.

  "Can you free your leg now?" he asked.

  "Yes." He'd lifted her straight up off the horn. "You can let me down now."

  But he didn't. He continued to hold her in the air as if she weighed hardly anything.

  "Let me down."

  "I just wanted to show you what it's like not to feel in control of your life."

  "I've never been in control," she said, "not from the first breath I took. Now please let me down."

  He lowered her slowly. Again the effort seemed to cost him nothing.

  "Come over here," he said, indicating a break in the trees. "You can see where you've been."

  Valeria gathered her composure as best she could. She refused to be overwhelmed just because the man was strong. That was foolish. An ox was strong and she had absolutely no admiration for an ox. But she couldn't deny that she had come perilously close to being dazzled by Luke Attmore. He said he'd never had much effect on women. His indifference to people in general had probably kept him from seeing it. And women, recognizing his remoteness, had probably done their best to get over him as quickly as possible. The best way for her to do that would be not to see him again.

  But she had to see him every day for the duration of this trip, and could watch him without interruption for hours on end. Since he was the primary topic of conversation among Elvira, Hans, and Otto, there was little chance she'd be allowed to put thoughts of him out of her mind.

  It shouldn't have been that hard. All her life she'd disciplined herself to think only of acceptable things. But everything had changed. She'd been away from her uncle for several months, and though Otto and Hans were in charge of her journey, she had some real freedom for the first time. Not that it did her much good. Luke controlled her just as absolutely as her uncle ever had. Still, the sense of being out from under her uncle's control and the responsibilities of her position as princess was real. Being around Luke only made that feeling more acute. He made her question things she'd taken for granted, things she'd done because she was supposed to do them, because a princess of Belgravia had always done them.

  But the idea of being completely free was worrisome. As a princess she knew who she was, what to do, that she was safe and sheltered. Freedom took away that support, that protection. As tantalizing is it seemed, it frightened her. But she probably didn't need to worry. She would soon be married, and though she might have to learn what foods to have the chef prepare and what clothes to wear, Rudolf would take care of everything else.

  That left her feeling dissatisfied.

  "Are you afraid of heights?" Luke asked. "No. Why do you ask?"

  "You've been standing there with this slightly startled look on your face."

  She started forward and reached for his outstretched hand. "I was just thinking."

  "You can do that in the coach."

  Luke took her hand, and suddenly she had to concentrate on walking. She'd danced with many men in her life, taken their hands to mount a horse, climb stairs, walk in the garden. Luke's touch was entirely different.

  She felt his strength, sensed his steely determination, felt infused with the energy that flowed through him like a turbulent stream during the spring thaw. Like a rock thrown into the serene pool of her life, he disturbed her calm, sending ripples fanning out to every corner. She told herself not to be fanciful, but the feeling grew stronger.

  Luke drew her onto a huge slab of rock that extended out into space. She felt as if she were suspended in midair, looking down at the world she'd just traveled. The view was breathtaking.

  Below she saw where the mountain fell away into the tangle of oak and juniper. One could almost have drawn a line separating it from the saguaro cactus, ocotillo, and mesquite that marked the beginning of the desert. Then there was the almost barren strip that merged with the verdant band bordering each side of the San Pedro River. On the other side of the river, the patter
n reversed itself as the land climbed toward a distant mountain.

  "You'd never know from up here that it was so hot and miserable down there," she said.

  "That's pretty much what it's like being a princess. You're so far above the ordinary world, you have no concept of what it's like to live down there."

  It angered her that he should ruin a lovely moment by taking up his favorite litany.

  "My father and my uncle devoted their lives to improving the condition of our people."

  "Then why were they overthrown?"

  Why? She didn't know. No one had bothered to teach her how the government worked. Or why it might fail. When she asked, she was told such things were unsuitable for a woman to ask, especially a princess. She had asked her servants, but they were insulated from the general population by the same system that kept her in a virtual cocoon. "I don't know," she admitted. "My uncle said it was outside subversives, mercenaries like yourself."

  "And you believe that?"

  She'd always been told what to do, what to believe. Luke's relentless questioning made her realize she'd given up trying to think long ago. "Why shouldn't I?" she asked.

  "Look down there," Luke said, pointing to the desert several thousand feet below. "What can you see?"

  "Trees, bushes, cactus."

  "Do you see any birds, mice, or squirrels?"

  "You know I can't see anything that small from up here."

  "That's exactly how it was in your country. You were so high you couldn't see the people below. You had no idea who they were, what their lives were like. They could have been starving, living in abject fear, and you'd never have known."

  "Things couldn't have been that bad without my knowing," she protested.

  Without warning, he grabbed her and kissed her hard on the mouth. It shocked Valeria so much, she couldn't breathe. No coherent thought emerged from the jumble whirling about in her head. Everything about her simply came to a dead stop.

  Just as abruptly, Luke broke the kiss and held her at arm's length from him. "Did you like that? Did you want me to do it? Could you stop me from doing it again?"

  Exclamations of surprise, words of protest, and pleas for explanation stumbled over each other in her mind.

  He wrapped his arms about her, pulled her tight against his chest. "You're helpless, aren't you? You can't run away and you can't fight me."

  She could if she could get over the shock. She had never been held in such an intimate embrace. Not even when dancing in public would a man have dared let his body touch hers. The sensation was enormous, disabling.

  "Imagine you are a peasant woman," Luke said. "You sell flowers on the street. You have six children, cook three meals a day, do the laundry, clean the house, satisfy your husband at night. You have less money to spend in a whole year than you now spend on one dress. Can you imagine what your life would be like?"

  Try as she might, she couldn't think of anything except Luke's body pressed against the length of her own. She could feel his warmth, the curve of his muscles, but she felt no give in them.

  Two opposing feelings succeeded her initial shockanger that he would treat her with such contempt, and a desire that he never let her go. Since she could hardly breathe, she didn't understand that at all. She'd known for some time that Luke aroused strange and unruly longings within her, but she'd never realized until now just how intense they were. She wanted to throw aside everything she'd ever learned, and fling her arms around his neck.

  "I have no idea what her life might be like," she said, abandoning any attempt to understand Luke or her conflicting emotions.

  "You say you have no control over your life, but there's a legion of servants to see to your comfort, an army of soldiers ready to give their lives to protect you. Suppose a soldier came to her flower stand-or a mercenary like myself-who liked what he saw. Supposed he drew her to him"-Luke's arms tightened around her still more-"and kissed her ruthlessly."

  He kissed her again.

  No other man had ever kissed her on the lips. She had no way to differentiate ruthless from enthusiastic ... or impassioned ... or heedless. Her mind told her she ought to be furious, insulted, violated, even frightened. Her body pleaded with her to give in to Luke's embrace.

  She felt herself responding to him, leaning into his caress, returning his kiss. Somewhere in a corner of her brain, the sudden tenderness in her breasts registered. She'd think about that later when she wasn't wrapped in a whirlwind of sensations that narrowed her focus to Luke's body.

  She felt the shape of him as he pressed against her, the curve and power of his leg, the hardness and breadth of his chest, the softness and warmth of his lips enveloping her like a tidal wave, nearly suffocating her with the intensity of his kiss.

  Luke released her and stepped back.

  The shock was immense. She felt deprived of energy, of the strength to stand. Her knees trembled and she reached for his arm to steady herself. It was as hard as an iron balustrade and just as immovable. It took a moment before her strength returned. She looked up at him, questioning, hoping for an explanation of what had happened to her.

  One look told her Luke had been nearly as unprepared for what had happened between them. His expression combined surprise, confusion, and fear. She couldn't understand why he should be surprised or confused. He had kissed her. She might be inexperienced, but she could tell he'd done it many times before. What could he possibly have to fear from her? She was helpless. He'd said so himself.

  "There would be no one to help you," Luke continued. "Anyone who interfered would be beaten senseless." He appeared to be having difficulty making his words form coherent sentences. "Or bayoneted and thrown into the river."

  How could he expect her to think logically when her entire well-ordered way of thinking had just come tumbling down? Suddenly she didn't know what she wanted or how to go about finding out. She just knew that in some way this man was the key to everything, and he couldn't talk about anything but peasants and mercenaries.

  "Peasant women, especially the pretty ones, have to worry about being caught out alone. Men of your class take advantage of them, then discard them when they lose their appeal. You've never had to think of your safety, but that thought never leaves the mind of a peasant woman. Not even marriage can protect her from soldiers like me."

  "Why?" She didn't know why she asked. She didn't want to know.

  `"There's no limit to what I might do to you-with you-now," Luke said. "And there isn't anyone to stop me."

  He came two steps toward her. All the confusion had left his expression. His face had assumed a hard, uncompromising mask. She had sensed danger in him from the beginning. It had seemed exciting, alluring, but now she wasn't so sure about it. She took a step back.

  "I am not a peasant woman."

  "It doesn't matter. You've lost your army and your servants are miles away."

  "You wouldn't dishonor me."

  "Why?"

  "You're not that kind of man."

  She didn't like his smile, or the laugh that followed. "You don't know what kind of man I am."

  "You've been hired to protect me."

  "I've been hired to deliver you to your future husband. I made no promises about anything else."

  "You said women had rights in your country."

  "They do, but men like me have no honor and no loyalty, not even to ourselves. We don't live long and seldom die in our beds, so we take what we can while we have the chance."

  Valeria had never thought she would be frightened of Luke. Or even careful around him. He didn't like her, despised what she represented, but he cared passionately about his reputation. She couldn't believe he'd jeopardize it to teach her a lesson. And that was what this seemed like, a lesson to make her understand that everything had changed, that she could no longer take her safety for granted. He certainly didn't act like a man carried away by emotion, even lust. She might not be in control of her life, but Luke rigidly controlled everything about his.
>
  She backed into a boulder, tried to move around it, but Luke placed his hands on either side of her. When she tried to duck under his arms, he grabbed her and pulled her hard against him.

  "I've been without a woman for a long time," he said. "I've spent four hours bringing you up here. It'll take four hours to get back. I think I deserve a little something for that, don't you?"

  Chapter Twelve

  Valeria didn't know what to do or say. Despite war, revolution, and being driven from her own country, her physical safety had never been threatened. If her father were still on the throne, Luke would have been hanged for even talking about what he'd just done. But she was alone, miles away from anyone, pinned against a rock, helpless against Luke's superior strength.

  "You've made your point. I'm not safe anymore. I'm not as strong as a man."

  "Is that what you think I'm doing, making a point?"

  The slight pause before he spoke gave him away. "Aren't you?"

  "You could look at it that way, but we could both have some fun with it."

  She didn't like the sound of his mocking laugh. It made her angry that he would treat her this way just to prove a point. It made her even angrier that her body would respond to him.

  "I'll fight."

  "That will make it more exciting," he said. He pressed his body more tightly against her. He moved his face closer and closer until she could look nowhere but directly into his ice-cold blue eyes. "I like it when a woman fights back. It heats my blood, and I like everything better when my blood is hot."

  The words issued from his mouth on a moist cloud that seemed to scald her cheek. She thought of going limp in his arms, but her blood was up, and she couldn't be passive if she wanted to.

  She attempted to duck under his arms. He just moved his hands closer to her sides, pinning her body against the rock with his own.

  "It wouldn't do any good to escape," he whispered. "Even if you could outrun me, where would you go?" "My horse is faster than yours."

  "You can't mount without my help."

  She wasn't as strong as he was. She couldn't run as fast. She couldn't mount her horse alone. She would have to defend herself by her wits, hot blood or not. She had nothing else.