Rafael tugged at her reins and issued a sharp command. Bella obeyed without hesitation. He adjusted himself in the saddle to the stiff position he previously held and delivered Gaby a scathing look.
She smiled in return, delighted over being the cause of his predicament.
He read her message easily. Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief... and challenge.
“You have a way of causing chaos, Gaby.”
“Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“I know,” she grinned.
“You are too strong-willed for a woman,” he snapped. “No man would want one such as you.”
Gaby raised her head high. “No man could handle a woman such as me.”
Rafael’s posture stiffened even further.
Gaby wondered if she had gone too far. As usual, her mouth had spoken before her mind gave thought to her words. But he was so exasperating she couldn’t contain herself. She watched as his lips moved to speak, and she fixed her attention on them, purposely avoiding his eyes.
“Is that a challenge, Gaby?”
Gaby tried to remain focused on his lips, slim and sleek in line, hardly ever smiling and never laughing. Would that sternness be evident in his kiss?
“I asked you a question, Gaby.”
His commanding voice caused her eyes to jump to his. Hot blue. The intense color scalded her flesh, sending quivers along her body and heating more than just her flesh. The black hat sitting low on his forehead shaded his eyes allowing her a better view of their throbbing color. Damn if they didn’t scorch her flesh until she felt uncomfortably hot. She wiggled in her saddle attempting to find relief. Finding none, she knew she had only one choice.
A narrow smile slowly spread wide and with a toss of her head and rumble of laughter, she tightened her hold on the stallion’s reins and took off in a flash.
“Damn,” Rafael muttered and urged Bella to follow.
The stallion flew like a mighty wind. Gaby held on tightly, feeling safe and in control. The warm air whipped at her face and tore at her braid and it felt good, so good. She heard the heavy, steady pounding of hooves behind her. Bella was fast, but Gaby didn’t feel the mare was as fast as the stallion. She would beat Rafael to the corral and hopefully have time to run to the hacienda before he caught up with her. Once there she would have some protection from his fury since Lupe and Dona Maria would be about.
The steady pounding of the hooves grew louder in her ears and she urged the stallion on. He obeyed, seeming to sense her plight and sped swiftly. She spied the corral up ahead and felt victory close.
No one was about as she drew closer. With no saddle to worry about she could jump the empty corral and leave the stallion to cool himself down in the confines of the large pen. Later when things calmed down, she could return and tend to him.
She cleared the wooden posts easily and slipped from the horse with just as much ease. She delivered a quick pat to his neck to let him know all was well before she climbed the two wooden rails to hop over the corral fence. Her bare feet hit the dry dirt, and she was off in a dash, leaving a small cloud of dust trailing her.
Gaby wore a large satisfied grin. She was going to make it. She only needed to pass the stable and she’d be right near the cookhouse door.
A few more steps, just a few—
Gaby was grabbed with such force that the breath was knocked from her. She could get no air even though her lungs screamed for it. She clawed at the powerful arm that circled her waist and he loosened his grip as though sensing her panic.
She began to breathe deeply and heavily, her chest surging, her lungs attempting to get all the air that they could. She was so busy fighting for breath that she hadn’t noticed she was being carted off to the barn. She protested, beating at the arm that held her, clawing for her release.
“Let go!” she screamed. “Let go!”
“No!” Rafael stated so emphatically that Gaby stilled all movement.
Freshly spread hay and horse flesh stung Gaby’s nostrils as Rafael strode into the barn, walking deep within, away from the sunlight and any spying eyes.
He strode into an empty stall and spun her around to face him before pinning her body firmly up against the wall. His hands flew up to imprison her on both sides, and his body moved in close, preventing any avenue of escape.
His hat was gone from his head and his dark hair fell in disarray along his forehead. His eyes boiled with anger, and his lips were pinched tightly shut. His nostrils flared almost like that of the stallion when irritated, and his chest heaved as hers did from the exertion of the chase.
They were close, too close. The dark material of his jacket was spread wide from his imprisoning stance, and her soft large nipples beneath her blouse skimmed the white cotton of his shirt, causing her to shiver and them to harden in quick succession.
Rafael was far from in control of his emotions. They warred with him like some demon from hell. He wanted to reach out and rip the thin peasant blouse from her body, tease her hard nipples with his tongue and lose himself deep within her. Instead, he controlled the demons as best he could, taking several deep breaths, calming his racing heart, his boiling blood, and the ache that throbbed unmercifully below his belly.
“Who gave you permission to take the horse?’ he asked calmly and in a low whisper.
Gaby swallowed what she thought was a huge knot in her throat, catching her hard-fought breath before she spoke. “Your mother.”
Rafael raised a doubtful brow. “My mother?”
“She needed this note delivered immediately and there was no one about.” Gaby carefully reached to her waistband, not wanting to come in contact with any part of him. Her hand searched, but could not find the slip of paper.
“I suppose you lost it,” Rafael said with a sneer.
“Yes.” Gaby would say no more. There was no use in doing so. He would not believe her.
“Were you running away from me, Gaby?” He spoke in a soft, not commanding tone.
It touched Gaby’s heart, causing it to flutter. She hadn’t been running away from him when she had left on her errand, but her flight back to the hacienda was a flight from him.
“Tell me,” he whispered in a mere breath. A breath that was so close to her lips that if she spoke her words would tickle his mouth. And his mouth sat ready for them. Partly open and waiting, waiting to capture...
“Tell me, Gaby.” He was insistent.
“No.” Her response was barely audible.
“Then produce this letter of proof.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. She had no letter. No proof.
“Shall I ask my mother?” Now he issued her a challenge.
“I haven’t lied to you—ever,” she said, raising her head slightly, but not too high since then her lips would graze his and the thought of that contact frightened her.
“Then there is only my mother’s word to absolve your guilt.”
Dona Maria had not told her to take a horse, only to make certain the message was delivered. Her willfulness once again had gotten her into trouble.
“I took it upon myself to deliver the message,” she found herself answering.
“Will you ever obey me, Gaby?” His warm breath drifted across the soft contours of her face, tickling her flesh.
“Do you really wish me to?” she asked in a quivering whisper knowing she was flirting with danger here and yet throwing caution to the wind.
He wanted her to obey him, heed his every word, his every command... his every touch. God, how he wanted to touch her, feel her warm flesh, taste her moist mouth. His hand moved of its own volition, his fingers coming to rest against her cheek.
She jumped, startled.
He braced his body against hers, afraid she would flee him. “Don’t,” he ordered. “I won’t hurt you.”
“You will,” she whispered, struggling to keep the tears locked away. She knew, without a doubt, that the hurt was inevitable, just as t
heir coming together and parting was inevitable, and her heart was already aching for what was to be. And yet would she deny the joy and pain of it?
His fingers traced her lips lightly, running over their smooth, moist contours each time slipping a little deeper inside her mouth. “I will never hurt you, querida... never.”
Her eyelids fluttered from the sensuous play of his fingers. They touched the inside of her lower lip and instinctively her tongue reached for one. He moaned and his head dropped forward until his brow rested against hers. “Don’t stop,” he urged.
His words fueled her and her tongue circled his finger, licking, sucking, and drawing him deeper inside her.
“God, querida, what you do to me,” he whispered.
He pressed into her and she felt him; his hardness, his heat and his power. It thrilled her and frightened her all in one breath, and she pulled back away from him suddenly unsure of her actions or perhaps fearful of where it would lead.
He grabbed the back of her neck, forcing her to look at him. “Will you obey my orders now, Gaby?” he questioned, attempting to control the raging desire shooting through him. He wanted her so badly that he throbbed with pain, but he did not want her here amongst the hay and horses. He wanted a full, uninterrupted night with her. He wanted to discover for himself if she needed to be introduced gently to a man, or if she had shared a man’s bed before. At the moment it mattered not, he just wanted to feel her beneath him. Gentle or forceful, he would experience both with her until he had filled himself of her and driven his demons away.
“Will you?” he insisted once again.
“Yes,” she said, unable to move her head and fearing any other answer would prove useless.
“Go,” he said, releasing her. “Go tend to my mother.”
She slipped past him, needing to put a good deal of distance between them for sanity sake and to save herself from the passion that surged uncontrollably through her.
“Gaby!”
His strong command halted her and she turned once again to face him.
“You will ride no horse without my permission. If you chose to do so again, I will add another six months to your punishment.”
“But I was not—”
“Enough!” he shouted.
He was testing her, seeing if she would defy him so soon after being warned. “As you wish,” she said, bowing her head dutifully and turning to leave.
“And Gaby...”
She turned once again slowly, her hands curled into tight fists at her sides.
“I will not tell you again to wear your sandals.”
“Si, Senor Rafael.”
“Good, I’m glad you finally understand your place.”
“Oh si, I understand,” she said and smiled. I understand perfectly.
~~~
Rafael found the late evening to be the most difficult time of the day. It was then his thoughts were free to remember things better left forgotten, to think of things that could never be. All day the running of the ranch kept him occupied. He had no time to reflect on memories past and present, but at night it was different.
With supper over, his mother retired to her room, the servants busy with their families, the hacienda quiet, time became his enemy. Tonight was especially trying for him. He recalled his afternoon encounter with Gaby and the memory disturbed him.
He had given serious thought to announcing his engagement to Louisa. Marriage would at least fill some of the void, but then he thought of his first marriage and how cold and unloving Anna had been. Gaby wouldn’t be that way. She would enjoy warming her husband’s bed, spending time with him, carrying his child. She would love him without restraints or limits and that was the kind of woman he wanted. But women of breeding were different. They performed their duties obediently and without question, also without emotions.
Lighthearted laughter caught his attention, and he turned to look out the window of his study. Juanita, Lupe’s ten-year-old niece, and Gaby were playfully tossing a brightly papered ball in the air, attempting to keep it up each time it descended.
Their efforts did not always prove successful, but it mattered not to them. They were enjoying themselves. That was the type of scene Rafael had envisioned when he thought of the family he would have. He had longed for a wife who would laugh and play without regard to appearance and what others would think of her. He wanted a wife whose hair he could mess and whose breasts he could touch when he wished and not when she allowed. He wanted a woman who wasn’t afraid to love—a woman who would go barefoot without giving it a second thought.
Rafael’s eyes drifted to Gaby’s feet. They were bare and he smiled. He rose from his chair, crushed the cigar he had been smoking in the glass dish, and walked out of the room.
“Get it, Gaby, get it!’ Juanita yelled jumping up and down as the ball descended just above Gaby’s head.
Gaby hit it, sending it flying upward, and both girls squealed with delight.
“It’s coming toward you. Hurry, Juanita,” Gaby ordered.
Juanita jumped, swinging her arms, but the ball only drifted further away from her. “Oh, no,” she cried.
The ball was suddenly hurtled into the air. Gaby and Juanita turned and stood still upon seeing Don Rafael standing there.
“Well, don’t just stand there. Go after it!” he yelled.
Both girls scurried to obey. In minutes the three were racing around the courtyard laughing. Every time the girls thought it would hit the ground, Rafael saved it, then cheered them on to go after it. They ran and romped with pleasure, all three until...
“Rafael, what is the meaning of this disgraceful display?” his mother demanded, standing erect in her high-collared nightgown and robe.
Rafael tensed. His dark hair had spilled onto his forehead, his white shirt lay open at his throat, and his dark skin glistened with a hint of perspiration. He resembled a young boy who had been caught in an act not befitting his station and Gaby suddenly felt sorry for him and the life he had to endure.
“It is not a disgraceful display. It is merely a game,” he remarked more calmly than Gaby had expected him to.
His mother bristled at the sheer thought of such a thing. “Really, Rafael, you are no longer a child. You should know better. If you wish to play a game,” she said with a sigh of disdain, “then at least do not do so with the servants.”
Gaby motioned for Juanita to leave, and she did, in a hurry, grabbing the paper ball from the ground as she left. Gaby made haste to follow.
“Stay where you are, Gaby,” Rafael said sternly. “Mother, I am a grown man and if I wish to play with the servants I shall do so. Never—I repeat—never question my actions or authority again. It is not your place.”
Dona Maria, realizing she had overstepped her boundaries, mumbled a quick apology and returned to her room, promising herself she would make every effort to see that her son married Louisa as quickly as possible.
“You were harsh with her,” Gaby said without thinking.
Rafael turned to face her. “It isn’t her place to question me, just as it isn’t yours.”
“Si, Don Rafael, but she is your mother and set in her ways.”
“And what way is that?”
“That she obeys her husband or older son without question.”
Rafael took a step toward her. “You find this objectionable? Didn’t the padres teach you to respect and obey your husband when you marry?”
Gaby couldn’t help but grin. “When I marry, but I doubt there is a man capable of handling my willfulness.”
“Don’t forget disobedience,” he reminded her, glancing down at her bare feet.
She pulled her brown skirt up to glance down at her feet. She smiled again and wiggled them. “Yes, I suppose my disobedience would be a deterrent in finding a husband.”
“Men expect a dutiful wife. One who will obey without question.”
Gaby rocked back and forth on her bare soles, her arms tucked behind her back. “Is that what
you wish from your wife? Someone who never questions your actions or ideas? One who agrees with your every word? One who does exactly what you wish, whether she desires to or not?”
Rafael grimaced at the prospect of such a woman but said, “You describe a proper wife.”
“I describe a dull, boring wife. How much more interesting marriage would be if a wife said and did as she pleased. Then a husband would find himself confronted with a challenge each new day and they would smile and love often.”
“You have strange ideas, Gaby.”
Gaby’s smile turned thoughtful. “Padre Jose says they are dreams that will never come true. That such a man does not exist and I would be better off spending my time praying than daydreaming.”
“And do you follow the padre’s advice?”
She shook her head. “No, I continue to dream.”
“You are stubborn.” Rafael smiled and Gaby found it disarming.
“Where are your sandals, Gaby?” he asked softly.
She pointed to the stone wall where they rested.
He walked over, picked them up, and returned to her. He stared down at her slim ankles and small toes. The tender flesh beckoned him, so warm, so soft, and so inviting. If he slipped the sandals on, he would not stop there. His hand would glide upward along her firm calf, to her thigh, creamy soft beneath her skirt. He would linger there until his fingers could stand it no longer and then they would slip between her legs and—
“Put them on and leave them on,” Rafael shouted as he shoved them at her and stomped away.
Gaby puzzled over his strange departure. She hooked the strap of each sandal over her one finger and walked with a gentle sway of her hips and a confused shake of her head to her room.
Chapter Ten
“Gaby! Gaby!” Dona Maria’s voice was filled with such urgency as she entered her bedroom that Gaby dropped the linens she held and hurried to the woman’s side.
“What is the trouble? Are you ill? Let me help you to bed.”
Untamed Fire Page 11