by Flora Kidd
'It could be,' she said in agreement with him, glancing at one of the pictures. 'But this house is much too big to be called the little house.'
'Como dice?' He sounded puzzled. 'What is it you are saying?'
'La casa chica,' she said slowly and carefully. 'I think that is how you say it and it means little house. That is what Carlos told me this house is called when I asked him if you lived here all the time. He said you have another house and this is just la casa chica. Oh, what have I said? Why are you laughing?'
'I laugh because only an innocent stranger to Mexico would misunderstand,' he replied. The laughter faded from his face and his mouth twisted wryly. 'There is another meaning to casa chica.'
'What is it?'
'I'm not sure I should tell you,' he replied with a glint of mockery in his eyes.
'Oh, why not?'
'Because I believe that where you come from such places rarely exist and you might be shocked.'
'I'd still like to know, then I won't make a mistake again.'
'Okay.' He shrugged again. 'The little house is a way of referring to the extra-marital establishment for the husband's pleasure, the place in fact where his mistress lives separate from the house where his wife and family live. Me entiende Usted? You understand me?'
Dawn nodded, feeling her cheeks grow warm. She handed the book back to him and when he turned away to put it on the shelf she looked again at the photographs. Had he just implied that his mother had been his father's mistress?
'And what else did you learn from Carlos?' He spoke sharply as he turned and stepped towards her. The coldness of his voice and the hard, critical expression in his eyes warned her that he wasn't pleased that she had questioned his houseman.
'Not much. He's very close-mouthed,' she replied.
'I should hope he is. I don't employ him to gossip about me to my guests.'
'I didn't want him to gossip about you,' she retorted with a defiant lift of her chin.
'Then why ask him questions about me?'
'I was only trying to find out a few facts about you. After all, you questioned me last night and found out all about me. All I know about you is your name. I can guess you're wealthy by the style in which you live.' Her glance flicked round the beautiful room and came back to him.
'Why do you want to know more?' he demanded. 'So that you can decide if I'm to be trusted, right?' His mouth curved bitterly and his eyes sparkled angrily. 'What a pity you didn't think to check up on Farley before deciding to trust him,' he sneered. 'If you had you wouldn't have been thrown into the ocean yesterday and left to drown, would you? You wouldn't have been rescued by me and have to stay here dependent on my goodwill and support.' He stepped closer to her, bending his head so that her startled eyes could see nothing but his face with the golden eyes brightly menacing. 'But I am flattered by your own interest,' he drawled, 'and it's going to give me great pleasure to show you, pretty bird, just how interested I am in you.' His intention was clear to her now.
He was going to kiss her. He was assuming she would let him kiss her. But no man, not even this one to whom she owed her life, was going to kiss her against her will. She stepped backwards and collided with the wrought iron screen which was behind her. She was off balance for a moment and he reached out a hand to steady her, grasping the bodice of the gown she was wearing and holding it at the slit opening, and looking down at his hand she had a wild feeling that whatever it caught and held would never escape.
'I'm all right,' she assured him. 'You can let go now.' Her voice was as sharp as an icicle, her head held high as she looked him in the eyes, but she felt her heart fluttering in her breast like captured bird.
'In a little while,' he murmured, and drew her towards him by pulling on the stuff of the gown.
'No! Let go now. You're not going to kiss me. I won't let you,' she cried, and her hand swung up to strike at him. But her blow never landed because he caught her wrist and then somehow instead of being free as she had hoped she was in his arms, was close against him so that she could feel the hard bones and muscles of his body thrusting against the softness of hers through the thin cotton clothing they were both wearing, and the intimacy of that contact sent waves of shock reverberating through her.
In outrage she flung her head back, turning her face sideways to him and arching her body away from him back over his arms, but there was no way she could avoid the touch of his lips against the long curve of her throat.
The feel of that bold predatory mouth against her tender skin sent her crazy for a few moments. Writhing in the trap he had made with his arms, uttering little cries of protest and sheer panic, her soft fine hair flying out in all directions as she shook her head, and her sandalled feet kicking futilely against his hard legs, she struggled to escape until with an impatient exclamation in Spanish he caught and held her face captive with one hand. For a moment their eyes met, hers shimmering with hate, his blazing with anger, then his mouth took hers in a hard punishing kiss.
That insidious tingle which had sparked along her nerves when he had stroked her wrist flashed through her now, a warning that he was dangerous to her in an embrace as close as this was. Her brain dictated she should fight to break free of him, but her senses ignored the order, because suddenly the quality of his kiss changed. His lips softened and parted, stroking hers gently, tempting them to respond, and slowly hers softened too and opened. Her eyes closed and all conscious thought was wiped out by new and pleasant sensations.
Long ripples of sensuousness flowed through her as she lost the desire to fight. Her body became pliable and moulded itself eagerly against his as a new need grew within her, a sort of ache for something, she wasn't quite sure what; something like a joy which was beyond kissing and which she might be able to reach if she stayed with him.
His lips left hers and at once she came whirling down from somewhere near heaven and plummeted back to earth. She opened her eyes to see him looking down at her, his parted lips curving in a faintly mocking smile, his eyes glinting at her from between half-closed lashes. Still holding her with one arm, he ran an exploratory finger round the inside of the neckline of her gown and his touch sent a shiver down her spine. Then his finger tip trailed insinuatingly against her skin inside the slit opening and she caught her breath in a wild gasp. Lifting a hand, she grasped his hand to stop his piratical finger from marauding further. Immediately his hand turned under hers. His fingers curved about hers and in a graceful courtly gesture he raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, all the time watching her with those glinting mocking eyes.
'So now you know a little more about me, chiquita,' he said softly. 'And I know something about you, and I am glad you have agreed to stay.'
'I'm only staying because the sergeant of police said he would bring the information about the car and my belongings here,' she retorted, snatching her hand from his and stepping back against the screen again. 'I'm not staying here to oblige you.'
'Yet your staying will oblige me,' he replied, his glance flicking over her provocatively. 'After all, I am my father's son and like him I enjoy having a pretty companion to share this casa chica of his with me.'
'Oh, you're assuming too much, far too much,' she gasped furiously.
'I am? In what way?'
'You're assuming that I would like to be your companion. Well, you're wrong.' She flung out an arm and pointed to the photographs on the writing table. 'I don't want to be like her,' she added. 'I don't want to be a bird in a gilded cage, sold for an old man's gold!'
There was an unpleasant little silence. Something wicked came and went in his clear eyes and she remembered belatedly that he was Mexican and might consider an insult to his mother an insult to his honour and find a cruel way to retaliate. But to her surprise he shrugged and his mouth took on a humorous curve.
'I don't consider myself to be old, yet, perhaps twelve years older than you are, in the prime of life, as they say,' he said. The humour faded and was replaced by a fro
wn of puzzlement. 'But I don't understand the reference to being sold for gold. Would you care to explain?'
Her tongue came out to lick her throbbing lips which were suddenly dry and she watched him warily.
'It… it's an old music hall song,' she muttered. 'I remembered it when you said your mother called this house a gilded cage. My father used to sing the song sometimes.'
'He did? Why? Was he a singer?'
'Yes, and an actor. He used to sing in musical plays and he was also a regular performer in a T.V. series in Canada, a sort of sing-along show. It was in that show that I heard him sing the song.'
'Tell me more about the song, por favor,' he urged.
'It's about a young woman who has married an old man for his money. One line goes like this: 'Her beauty sold for an old man's gold, she's a bird in a gilded cage'.' Dawn sang the words in her husky contralto voice. 'Haven't you ever heard it before?'
'No, but you have just explained something which has puzzled me for years. I'll show you.' He stepped over to the writing table, opened its drawer and took out a book bound in real leather. 'This is my mother's diary,' he said, turning back to her. 'She used to sit at this table, so I'm told. She was a singer too and a dancer and appeared in several Hollywood films. My father provided the financial backing for them. He made a lot of money that way.' He opened the book at the first page am handed it to her. 'Please read it,' he invited.
Dawn took the book from him and looked down at the sloping writing which covered the page. She read:
'Today is my first day in this house, this lovely gilded cage which Clemente has built for me. I sang that song to him about the bird in the gilded cage. I thought he would laugh, but he didn't. He was very upset and told me he doesn't want me to think of myself or him in that way. He says it hurts him because he can't marry me. He says I'm much more his wife than Raquel has ever been. Theirs was one of those arranged marriages and not a love affair. They haven't lived together for years. My poor Clemente, for all his wealth he hasn't had much happiness in his life. I must try to make him happy while I can. I love him so much.'
Dawn closed the book and stood looking down at it. Sebastian's retaliation for what she had implied about his mother was very subtle, she thought, and it hurt her far more than any show of anger would have done.
'I'm sorry for what I said,' she said simply, handing the book back to him. 'I see now that I was wrong.'
'Yet if you hadn't said what you did I wouldn't have found out why my father was upset by the song,' he replied, Putting the book back in the drawer. 'He didn't have to buy her beauty or her companionship. She loved him and gave up everything to come and live with him, her career and her friends and her family who frowned on her association with him. It was his greatest regret that after being together nearly six years she lived only a year after they were married.' He noticed her upward glance of surprise and his mouth twisted wryly. 'Si, they were married eventually, soon after I was born. His first wife agreed to divorce him when she learned I was expected.'
'Why have you told me all this?' she asked.
'Partly because you wanted to know more about me and I would rather tell you myself than have you learn about it secondhand and partly to clear up a misconception you had of my mother, a prejudice which might have prevented the growth of our relationship.'
'But we don't have a relationship,' she objected.
'I can't agree with you,' he retorted. 'We do, and it keeps changing. Last night it was between the rescuer—me and the rescued one—you. This morning it has been the protector—me and the protected one—you while you were interviewed by the sergeant of police. And now it's… '
'Between predator and prey,' she put in quickly.
'No entiendo,' he said, his eyebrows coming together in a puzzled frown. 'I don't understand.'
'You like to be in the position of superiority, don't you?' she taunted. 'Rescuer, protector and now predator, and I am the prey. Because I'm trapped here in your house you think you have the right to make love to me any time you want whether I want to or not. You… you're so macho you make me feel sick!'
His face went taut and pale almost as if she had struck him and his eyes blazed with an unholy light. For a moment she felt her legs shake, but she didn't retreat. She faced up to him, defying him. Then his eyelids dropped over his eyes and a mocking smile slanted his mouth which had the effect of making her feel more apprehensive than ever.
'Brave words,' he jeered. 'But I don't believe them. You've just shown me you're not averse to making love. When I kissed you… Dios, what is the matter now?' His voice rose sharply.
Greatly disturbed because he had noticed the way she had responded to his kiss, Dawn had hidden her hot face in her hands.
'How unfair you are, how despicable!' she raged in a fierce whisper. 'First you try to kiss me against my will…'
'I only wanted to show you I like the way you look,' he interrupted her angrily.
'Couldn't you have told me? Did you have to kiss me?' she flared, lowering her hands and glaring at him.
'Si, I did,' he replied. 'I come from a passionate warm-blooded people who show their feelings without reservation, who hug and kiss one another regardless of sex. How was I to know you'd behave like a hellcat when I touched you, kicking me, blinding me and nearly choking me with your hair, behaving as if you believed I was going to rape you?'
'Then why didn't you let go of me when I showed you I didn't want to be kissed? Why did you persist?' she countered.
He took a short hissing breath and threw up his hands in a gesture of helplessness.
'I couldn't help myself,' he groaned. 'Hasn't anyone ever told you that a sure-fire way of rousing a man's passion is to resist him as you resisted me?'
'You kissed me by force,' she declared. 'And then when I seemed to respond you assumed I like being kissed by you.'
'So you seemed to respond? Ha!' His crack of laughter made her flinch. 'Oh no, you didn't seem to respond,' he taunted softly. 'You did. That was no pretence, and naturally I assumed you liked it. And I'm willing to bet that the next time it happens you'll respond even more.'
'There won't be a next time,' she stormed at him. 'Do you really believe I'll stay here knowing you're the sort of man who insists on forcing your attentions on innocent women who don't want them?'
There was another ominous silence while he glared at her, his eyes bright with anger, his finely chiselled nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily in an effort to control himself. Then as if he didn't trust them he thrust his hands into his pockets and paced away from her slowly, only to swing round suddenly and come towards her again.
'All right, I admit it,' he said in a low voice. 'I admit I want you. I'm attracted to you and I'd like to make love to you any time I feel like it. But not if you're unwilling. There's no pleasure in taking an unwilling woman and I've never gone in for that sort of thing, no matter what you think.' He paused and his glance flicked over her. 'And I don't believe you didn't like being kissed by me. So you can get on with your despising. I care that much.' He snapped his finger and thumb together. 'And now I must go to work.'
'To work?' she exclaimed.
'Ah, you are surprised now that I work? You believe me to be a playboy, hmm?' Again his eyes glinted angrily. 'Por dios, you ought to be punished in some way for your ignorant prejudices, seňorita. Si, I am going to work to the meeting in Guadalajara of a committee of which I am a member. It is to do with the government of this state.' He turned away and stepped out of the alcove.
'Is Guadalajara a long way from here?' she asked as she followed him.
'It'll take me about an hour to fly there in my Cessna.'
'You fly your own plane?'
'Si. Flying and sky-diving are my greatest pleasures,' he replied coolly, and paused in his stride to look back at her. 'Anything else you would like to know about me before I go?' he added with an ironic curve to his mouth, and she could only shake her head. 'Then I'll be on my way. Please use the
house as if it were your own home while you wait for the sergeant to bring you news. I'll be back maybe this evening, maybe tomorrow.'
He strode on to the archway and she watched him go feeling a strange desire to stop him from going surge up inside her.
'I might not be here when you come back,' she called after him in an attempt to draw his attention back to her, and once again he turned to face her, although he continued on his way, walking backwards towards the archway.
'So if you're not here, you're not here,' he retorted with a mocking smile and a shrug of his shoulders. He placed the tips of the fingers of one hand to his lips and kissed them to her. 'Adios, pretty bird, hasta la vista.'
He strode out of the room and she heard him calling to Carlos in the hallway. Then all was quiet. For a while pawn stood rubbing her lips with her fingers as if she could rub out the impression he had made on them. Her emotions were still boiling and bubbling as a result of what had happened between herself and Sebastian and she tried to figure out who had come out of it best. Surely she had. He had left the house and she was free to go. And yet…
Irritated by the way he had disturbed her, she wiped the back of her hands across her mouth. A man had kissed her. So what? She had been kissed before by young men who had taken her out for an evening and she had let them kiss her, wanting to find out what it was like, wanting to know if she would feel any exciting sensations as a result. But she had never felt anything and had come to the conclusion that all she had read about sexual love was a lot of rubbish. She had never felt any desire to be closer to a man until just now when Sebastian had kissed her.
And if he hadn't stopped kissing her, if he had continued to hold and caress her what would have happened? The nerves in the pit of her stomach fluttered and a tingling sensuousness flowed through her as her imagination ran wild. She swayed where she stood, then clutched at her head with her hands. What was the matter with her? The next time it happens you'll respond even more. His mocking words taunted her. He was right, she would. So she must leave while he was away. She would go now, this very minute.