Spaniard Untamed

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Spaniard Untamed Page 5

by Susan Stephens


  “I insist on taking you back,” Diego argued quietly with the same concern that made her yearn for things she couldn’t have. “You can’t just wander off on your own, after…”

  He let the next words hang, leaving her with nothing more than the hope that he’d pick up the clues she’d left so Diego and his team could finally break up the slavers.

  He left her at the door of the staff block where she had a room. No kisses, and a handshake would have been risible under the circumstances.

  “Good night,” he said politely, respecting the distance that had grown between them.

  “Good night,” she replied. Understatement, she thought. That good night would have to stay with her and buoy her up through whatever she had to face next.

  ~~o0o~~

  She woke up early and leapt out of bed, ready to embark upon the next part of her plan. Longing for Diego had to be smothered. The changes in her body, which had been very well used, together with the ache in her heart that threatened to distract her, had to be forgotten. She had volunteered to join the team of support staff whose duties included smoothing the path for visiting players and marshaling the crowd arriving to watch the polo match. This suited her plan to leave as it allowed her to work outside the arena, where it was easy to slip away unnoticed. Diego would be too busy playing in the polo match to notice she’d gone. She knew if he caught even the slightest hint of what she intended, he’d find a way to stop her leaving.

  She checked her appearance in the mirror. Her face was pale. She pinched some color into her cheeks so as not to arouse suspicion. Closing the door on her room, she headed for the parking lot. As she walked, she glanced across at the stable yard bustling with people and horses. He would be there, but if she looked too closely, instinct would warn him she was nearby. Her stomach clenched as she tried to ignore the glamorous groupies hanging around, hoping to attract the attention of the star polo players. Diego could have his pick, and though she had no right to feel possessive about him, she did. It wasn’t as if she was Diego’s regular girlfriend, or even his occasional girlfriend. She was just a woman he’d screwed last night. Maybe she meant more to him than that, but they were both realists.

  No regrets. She’d have to chant that mantra every day. There was a strong possibility she might never see him again. She had to face up to that, though the thought of losing him shredded her heart. And, if he didn’t follow up on the clues she’d left, her plan was sunk.

  She got to work helping polo fans find parking spots. There were plenty of them, and it helped time pass quickly.

  “Celina?”

  She started with guilt and alarm. What was Diego doing in the parking lot? The match wasn’t due to end for another hour. Was he injured? Her throat dried as he strode up to her. She stared at him, looking for signs of injury, and instead found him perfect. He was amazingly perfect in team colors and tight breeches. His formfitting top boasted the Blood and Thunder insignia of a stallion’s head on the breast pocket, while long, clinging leather boots lovingly molded his muscular calves. With a long whip in his hand, he looked like a god of the game. And here she was in her baggy, waterproof working clothes. She had been helping an elderly couple back their vehicle out of a tight space and had to ask him to give her a minute. It gave her chance to think, but not enough time to calm down. Her body had responded to Diego’s arrival exactly as expected, with excitement and arousal. He looked so striking that everything about the previous night came flooding back, dousing all thoughts of her plan.

  “Are you hurt?” she exclaimed with concern the moment she’d seen the elderly couple safely on their way. She scanned him thoroughly, her heart turning over at the thought that he might be injured.

  “Why? Are you worried about me?” Tapping his calf-length leather boots with the long-handled whip, he smiled.

  He had no idea. She couldn’t bear to think of him in danger, and yet she was beckoning him toward it.

  “I’m unhurt, as you can see,” he said, running his hands down his muscular frame, drawing her attention to every flexing muscle. “Why are you here? I thought you’d be watching the match.”

  Everyone who worked for the team was watching the match. It was a matter of pride. Outsiders were hired to do the jobs Blood and Thunder staff normally undertook, so each staff member could cheer on the players they worked so hard for. Everyone except for Celina.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” Diego informed her with a frown.

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Leave this, and come with me,” he said crisply.

  His black gaze scorched through her. He was pumped with adrenaline and hot from the match. “I should stay on until the last car leaves.” She glanced toward the champagne tent, where a party was due to be held later. “You go on ahead without me.”

  Diego’s eyes narrowed. “Are you turning me down?”

  “I’m suggesting—”

  “Don’t suggest,” he rapped. “For once in your life, just do as I say. Please,” he added as an afterthought, as if he were trying very hard to change.

  She felt so bad. Just when Diego appeared to be softening, she was at her most determined. She had to be. Her plan hung in the balance. “Are you going to the bar to celebrate?”

  “I will celebrate,” he confirmed, “but with you.” Taking hold of her wrist, he brought her close.

  “Why did the match end early?” she asked.

  “There was an injury on the opposing team,” Diego informed her as he urged her along. “They offered to play a substitute, but we deemed that unfair to our opponents, so we’ve arranged a rematch.”

  “A rematch?” Celina exclaimed with concern. “When?” She was thinking of her plan, which depended on the help of the Blood and Thunder vigilantes for success.

  “A date has yet to be set.”

  “Will it be soon?”

  “The rematch will be held in a few months’ time. Both teams have prior engagements to fulfill first.”

  “I’m very sorry to hear of the injury.”

  He hummed. “It was nothing serious, but enough to keep the player out of today’s match. You can help me to forget my disappointment, I’m sure.”

  Her throat felt as if someone was standing on it. She had arranged to take a lift into town with some of the grooms. From there it would be easy to catch a bus to the airport, or even hitch a lift. Isn’t this better? her body insisted when Diego drew to a halt. Bringing her to stand in front of him was all it took for the fire inside her to rage out of control. His lips quirked as he took his first proper look at her outfit. “I’ll make finding my way through this my challenge for tonight.”

  “It won’t be beyond you, I’m sure.” As she spoke, she melted at the thought of what would come next. Fierce pleasure. Fast relief. She had time for that.

  Chapter Seven

  The sense of urgency gripping both of them was at breaking point. Diego wanted a repeat of last night. Celina did too, with an almost feverish desperation. He’d drawn to a halt outside the hay barn, and she knew very well what would come next.

  “Let’s go tackle those clothes,” he growled.

  Another chance to bind them closer, she persuaded herself as Diego opened the great wooden door on to fragrant darkness. They walked inside, and the door swung shut on well-oiled hinges. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, her ears to the silence. All her senses sharpened when Diego took her by the hand. Gossip on the team said he was cold. There was nothing cold about him now. He gave her hand a quick squeeze as if to reassure her. He relished the inferno that blazed between them. There would be fire in his eyes and the warmth that came with familiarity. They were doing more than getting to know each other; they were starting to be close. She could never confuse Diego with those in her childhood who had left their invisible scars. He was anything but insensitive. Once he’d picked up the clues she’d left—and she had to believe he would—Diego would know that she would only return to the village, and the start of the horror, f
or the very best of reasons. He’d be angry, and he’d stop her if he could, but all she needed was his support in what she had to do.

  “Do I have your full attention?” he inquired with amusement in his voice.

  She’d stopped in the middle of the barn as she battled with her conscience and thought about the necessary deceit of pretending that she was here to stay with no imminent dangerous journeys planned.

  “You certainly do,” she said truthfully. She could think of nothing but Diego, and how she would feel when she left him.

  “I know when you’re upset,” he insisted. Cupping her chin, he raised her face to his. All she could see were his dark eyes, luminous with concern. His face was so deeply shadowed, she couldn’t read it. “What are you thinking about?” he pressed.

  “You.”

  Diego shrugged, and she knew that her trite answer had gone no way to answering his question. She had to be strong like her mother, who was not the slut they’d called her at the orphanage. Celina’s mother had done extraordinary things. Another victim of slavers, Celina had learned as an adult, her mother had given birth alone in the forest, but had come back into town to leave Celina on the steps of the orphanage, where she knew she would be found.

  “So long I’m not keeping you from anything else?” he murmured dryly.

  “I think you know that’s not the case.” Impulsively, she clung to him as tightly as if this was their last chance to be together.

  “Do you need help taking your clothes off?”

  “Was that a hint?”

  He shrugged, and she could sense his smile. She’d forgotten the ugly clothes. Imagining them through Diego’s eyes was a welcome relief from the tension. “I haven’t worn anything so hideous since I volunteered to be the teacher most likely to fall into the dunk tank at our school’s annual fundraiser,” she admitted.

  “You must miss your school,” Diego commented softly as he helped her out of the jacket.

  “I miss the pupils. I miss my friends.”

  “You must,” he agreed as he tossed the jacket aside. “Don’t worry, we’ll finish the job we started in Monte Carlo.”

  The edge in his voice promised vengeance. Her heart lifted at the thought that she could help him in ways he couldn’t even guess yet.

  “Celina?”

  “Yes?”

  Diego kissed her. It was a lingering, thoughtful kiss. “Remind me to buy you some more flattering clothes.”

  She laughed with relief. For a moment, she thought he’d guessed what she planned to do. “I’ll buy my own.”

  “Ms. Independence?”

  “Yes,” she agreed, thinking about the journey ahead of her.

  Laying her down on the hay, Diego continued to undress her. The sweet-scented bed was a marked contrast to the stink of the cellar in Monte Carlo, or the tang of disinfectant in the orphanage. She could never understand why visitors didn’t comment on the stench when they came to give gifts to the “poor children” at Christmastime, gifts that were no sooner given than they were taken away. The loss of the books had hurt most. She had never forgotten their shiny new covers or the smell of untouched pages. The library trolley at the orphanage was encouraged, but the books it carried were torn and dirty. It was just another form of cruelty, she thought now. If the matron had known Celina imagined the missing parts of the stories, supplying images in her mind to fill the blanks, she would have confiscated the library trolley too.

  “Stop,” Diego warned, dropping a kiss on her naked shoulder. “Stop thinking back. Concentrate on the here and now.”

  He was right, and that wasn’t difficult when he was stroking her back to soothe her. Moments of happiness should be treasured.

  Tingles of expectation shot down her spine when Diego’s touches became more searching. Her buttocks lifted, seemingly of their own accord, and he stroked them too.

  “Beautiful,” he breathed against her neck.

  She writhed to encourage him and gasped with pleasure when he responded as she’d hoped.

  “There?” he suggested.

  “Exactly there,” she breathed excitedly.

  “And now?” he whispered.

  She worked her hips to gain more contact from his knowing hands.

  “Good?”

  She sobbed out her approval in rhythmical, satisfied groans.

  Unfastening his breeches, Diego freed himself. “Mount me,” he ground out.

  She didn’t need any encouragement. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she lifted herself up and sank slowly down. He was so big, she had to take her time. When he was engaged to the hilt, she worked him, growling with pleasure as she moved. Opening her legs even wider as she straddled him made him flex inside her, which she loved.

  “Press down each time like this,” he instructed as her excitement grew. His hands on her buttocks pushed firmly. “It’s better for you this way.”

  “And for you?” she guessed when he groaned.

  They should glut themselves while they could. Nothing lasted. Carpe diem. Seize the day. Or the hour, if that was all you had.

  ~~o0o~~

  Celina was a madness he couldn’t afford to bring into his dangerous life. It wasn’t fair to her. She’d known nothing but danger. It was time for her to have a different life. For a man used to controlling every aspect of his existence, it was quite an admission to accept that he cared about her to that extent.

  “Crazy woman,” he exclaimed as she gripped him like a fiend and rode him like a jockey.

  “Crazy good or crazy bad?” she asked, pausing.

  A shaft of sunlight illuminated her face as he turned her beneath him. She was flushed and hungry, and so eager to be loved. “You act as if a meteor’s about to strike the earth. You don’t have to prove anything to me. There’s always tomorrow.”

  He regretted the words almost immediately. After the life she’d led, there’d been no certainty of tomorrow for Celina, and he saw the flash of desperation in her eyes. She quickly lost herself in sensation, but as he worked to please her, he wondered if he’d ever cared for the women he’d slept with. As far as he could remember, sex had been nothing more than a mutual contract in the past, but when he was with Celina, something deep inside him hurt.

  “I want you again,” she whispered, distracting him.

  “You’ve got me,” he assured her, sinking deep.

  “Any chance you’ll take your breeches off?”

  “No,” he admitted, kissing her smile. He needed her like air to breathe.

  For now?

  For now, he was like a youth with a hard-on. He had to have her over and over again. Disengaging, he stood and lifted her. Positioning her over a hay bale, he commented as he mapped her buttocks appreciatively, “You have a great ass.”

  She laughed, then exclaimed with pleasure as he thrust deep. He brought them both to the edge with efficient ease and kept her hovering while he nudged her legs even wider. She stood on tiptoes and raised her buttocks as high as she could for him. A helpful sunbeam was like a spotlight so he could see everything he was doing to her. This only added to his agony of frustration, and control was vital, or this would be over in seconds. Reaching around her body, he cupped her breasts, loving the feel of her nipples thrusting against his palms. Gently abrading them with his thumbnails, he stroked her sex with his cock at the same time.

  “You’re killing me with frustration,” she complained, her voice muffled as her face rested against the hay, but he heard the smile in her tone.

  “I’ll die first,” he promised dryly.

  She laughed, and then wiggled her ass, which tempted him to tease her some more. He could lose it just staring at her buttocks, so he slapped them instead. When this seemed to please her, he added a few more. Soft, needy sounds begged him to continue. Finally, he couldn’t hold back, and she exclaimed with triumph when he thrust deep. Gripping her buttocks firmly, he upped the pace until she came noisily and for the longest time.

  “Fuck me,” she said
the moment the pleasure began to fade. “Again!” she insisted. He set up a rhythm of firm, deep strokes, bringing her to the edge in seconds. “Come with me now,” she commanded wildly. “I can’t wait.”

  He took them both down. She bucked so fiercely, he had to hang on to her to hold her in place, and it was many moments before her screams of release became contented groans. And when that finally faded, she whispered, “Again?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I want to remember this.”

  ~~o0o~~

  They must have been in the barn for hours, Celina realized as she rested exhausted on Diego. She’d missed her lift into town for sure. She’d have to wait until tomorrow and try to get a lift to the airport some other way. She wasn’t too worried. There would be plenty of people leaving the estate after the match and heading home.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” Diego said as he gently eased himself away. Lifting her, he steadied her on her feet. He smiled as he removed several strands of hay from her hair. “No one will ever guess where you’ve been,” he remarked with a wicked grin.

  “Do you care what people think?”

  “Not at all. They’ll think me lucky.”

  Lucky? If only he knew. As she picked up her shirt and put it on, another shower of hay floated out. As she brushed herself down, she asked, “How do you manage to stay looking so good?” Diego could have stepped out of the pages of a magazine. His hair was a little tousled, but apart from that, he looked amazing.

  “Shower,” he said firmly. “I can read your thoughts, and no, we can’t stay in the barn all night.”

  “We could be together in the shower?” she suggested without thinking.

 

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