His teeth were whiter than ever, his smile slightly mocking. “I do not think you quite understand the situation you find yourself in, pequena. I am courting you as a man would his bride, not looking for a mistress to spend a few nights in my bed. You do not have to know what to do with seduction. I have enough knowledge for both of us.”
The breath rushed right out of her lungs and she gaped at him, silently appalled. For a moment she could only stare at him. “Do you even hear yourself when you spout this nonsense?” She leapt up to put a couple of feet between them so she wouldn’t wring his neck with the bridle. “Is that supposed to be a compliment, that you would choose me to be your bride and not your mistress? How many mistresses do you have exactly? Is there a set number after you’re married or do you just wing it?”
She looked so beautiful she robbed him of breath. There was a steel thread running through her small soft body, a fierce pride, hard-earned. He looked at her and saw himself through her eyes. What had he done with his life? She knew nothing of him other than the image they had so carefully cultivated of powerful, rich playboys.
Who did he love? Members of the Chevez family had lived with him for centuries, running his affairs during the daylight hours; his own brothers, loved only through dim memories—he felt it now, that intense, protective emotion; but Colby had seen him cold, uncaring. She had seen he had little interest in others. People were thought of in the same vein as his cattle, his property. It was necessary to protect them, but it was his duty, a matter of honor, nothing more. Women were to be seduced, fodder, really, easy prey for a man as alluring and as seductive as Rafael. Colby Jansen was looking at him as if he were a rather useless ladies’ man. She thought him handsome, sexy, but rather cold and cruel. Useless. There was the slightest curl of contempt in her mind when he managed to slip past her guard. A Latin lover. She thought his life one of endless parties and women. Rafael’s long fingers tightened on the old leather.
Colby knew what it was like to love fiercely, passionately, protectively. She worked hard without complaining, without thought for anything but those she cared about. Rafael found he wanted desperately to be one of those few she counted as her own. Taking her to his lands and claiming her would not earn him her genuine love. She was his lifemate, and her body had all the responses to him of a lifemate, but her heart and mind viewed him as a rather useless individual. He found he didn’t like her assessment of him at all and, more importantly, that her opinion mattered to him.
Rafael and his brothers had been sent from the Carpathian Mountains in times of turbulent war and massacres. It had been long after they had lost their ability to see in color, to feel all emotion, but they had served their prince to the best of their abilities in keeping with their rigid code of honor. It was all they had left to them in a gray, barren world of endless existence. But through the long, long centuries, memories dimmed and more and more the darkness had crept up on them.
Colby’s eyes suddenly flashed fire at him. “And have you forgotten my rather unfortunate parentage? As I recall, I was the reason the Chevez family could not find it in their so-called hearts to accept Armando back into the family fold. I believe I am illegitimate. A De La Cruz shouldn’t associate with someone like me, let alone court me. It might ruin your good name.”
His black eyes went from a sheer black intensity to icy cold so fast she shivered. “Where would you get an idea like that?” His voice was very soft, yet carried a wealth of menace. He didn’t move, but all at once he was far too close, looming over her.
Colby stood her ground, but suddenly it seemed to be shifting out from under her. “I read the letter. The letter from the family patriarch ordering Armando to get rid of my mother and me before I brought disgrace to the name of De La Cruz. It was in my mother’s drawer. I found it after she died.”
He stared at her a long moment hearing the hurt she tried so hard to hide. Feeling her hurt. “Ah, I see. That does explain quite a bit. Just to set the record straight, my brothers and I have our own strange reputations; we do not much care what others say of us or anyone else.” He waved a graceful, dismissing hand and Colby had to believe him. He was too casual, too arrogant and sure of himself to worry about what another might say gossiping. “Old Chevez was a man much taken with his position in the community. He believed if he brought disgrace to us we would retaliate against his family in some way. It was not so.”
Rafael sighed. “We did not intervene when we should have,” he admitted heavily. He ached inside her, for that young girl who had found a letter written by a proud old man who didn’t understand the ways of the new world.
She could have sworn there was a fleeting tenderness in his expression when he looked at her. “Somehow I don’t think that old man would have listened to you,” Colby conceded, slightly ashamed of herself. “Maybe your father, but certainly not you.”
He had forgotten for a moment to be careful about time sequences. He was always pointing it out to his brothers, to be cautious about talking of things in the past as if they had all been present and had lived it. He chose his words, his voice very soft.
“I am sorry your família was hurt by the pompous attitude of an unbending man. When he died, and Armando’s brothers discovered the letter, they would not rest until they had come in person in an attempt to right this terrible wrong. To their credit, they did not know Armando had married and had children. They didn’t know his wife was killed in a plane crash or that he was injured so severely. Had they known, or had my brothers or I known, we would have come at once.” That was true. The De La Cruzes considered Armando a member of their family. Had they been informed of his need, they would have come in full force. They should have known, should have cared enough to monitor him from a distance. Rafael would have to live with that knowledge.
“That makes me feel much better, but I’m still not letting perfect strangers run off with my brother and sister.” Even to her own ears she sounded defiant.
“You did not really read the entire letter the lawyer sent you, did you?” he asked gently, his black gaze on her face.
She shrugged carelessly and lifted her chin. “I read as much as I needed to and skimmed the rest of it. The ranch is in my name; it belonged to my mother. Did the Chevez family know that? It has been in my mother’s family for a hundred years. I am not going to hand it over to them. Armando recovered all the acres lost over the years and managed to turn a run-down property into a thriving business. It is his legacy to his children and I intend to hold it for them. I loved him. He deserved better than he got.”
Rafael nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. “So did you, querida. The Chevez family wanted you to accompany Ginny and Paul. They are relatives, Colby, and they are not responsible for the terrible tragedy their avô precipitated upon the família. They are doing their best to make amends.” There was the gentlest of reproofs in his voice. “They do not need this ranch, as they are wealthy in their own right. Each of them has property and they manage our lands as well.”
Colby swept a hand through her hair. “I’m tired and it’s been a rotten day. I will admit you’ve helped me enormously and you took my mind off Pete’s death, but I really think you should go, Rafael.” She had reached a point where she was aware of nothing else in the room but his well-muscled masculine body. Her blood seemed to surge and pound with heat and fire. Her entire body was restless and unfamiliar. She didn’t want to know this side of him. Not the kind and gentle side. It was so much easier to resist him if he had a heart of ice.
He had come to her in her dark hour while she was alone and tired and vulnerable. He had offered his help with his melodic voice. His voice alone could soothe the heaviest heart. She didn’t want to like him or the Chevez family. That would mean she would have to be fair and reasonable.
Rafael could sense the weariness in her. Her body was sore and tired, muscles aching. She had been up so early, searching for her lost friend, and the day had dragged on endlessly. She was hanging
on by her fingertips, wanting to crumple somewhere safe where no one could see her. He stood up slowly and carefully replaced each piece of tack back in its original place on the wall.
When he turned his head to look at her, Colby stopped breathing. His eyes were black and hungry. Alive with raw need. She stared at him rather helplessly, frozen to the spot like a hypnotized rabbit. Unable to move. She had never seen eyes so alive, so hot and hungry with an intensity that frightened even as it drew her like a magnet. How had she ever thought him cold? Rafael reached out slowly, shackled her wrist, and drew her slowly, relentlessly to his side.
At once it was there, the electricity, sparking and crackling, sizzling hot. She barely came up to his chest and had to tilt her head as close as she was to him. He merely bent down, his black gaze never leaving her small, pale face as he came closer and closer. She could see his long thick eyelashes, his seductive mouth. Her heart began to pound a rather frantic rhythm, matched the exact same beat as his. His hand slid up her back in a long slow caress. She watched his mouth coming closer to hers.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered softly aloud, even as she moved closer to his beckoning heat. He was fire; she was ice, like the looming mountains surrounding them. Two halves of the same whole. “I can’t do this,” she repeated more for herself than for him. A last attempt at self-preservation. Her body was melting against his, boneless and pliant like so much hot silk when she needed to remain aloof, the ice princess, as some of the cowboys labeled her.
I need to do this. The words shimmered in her mind, shimmered between them, in his heart and soul, in hers. He needed it more than the air they were breathing, more than the blood that gave him life. You need to do this. Rafael’s palm curled around the nape of her neck. His fingers were warm and strong and firm, dragging her inexorably, relentlessly closer to him. He brought her across the last scant inches separating them. I need this. Stark, raw truth. She didn’t trust him, the rake, the playboy. Worse, she saw him as the man trying to seduce her to get her brother and sister and the ranch. It hurt, the image she had of him uppermost in her mind, it hurt more than he cared to admit, yet at that moment it didn’t matter to either one of them.
There was a difference between wanting something and desperately needing it. Rafael needed the feel of her silken mouth and her soft, pliant body. He fastened his mouth to hers, a melding of hot velvet and even hotter silk. Whatever it was that was between them seemed far stronger than either of them. A molten heat thickened their blood and set their hearts pounding frantically. The earth seemed to shift beneath their feet and he gathered her even closer, protectively, possessively against him.
She felt small and fragile to him, yet a living, breathing flame. His every good intention seemed to go right up in a fire raging so hot it seemed to sweep aside his very sanity. His mouth moved over hers, dominating, exploring, whisking them both into a world of raw sexuality. He fed on her sweetness, wanted to devour her, taking her into his own body and locking her in his soul for all time. She had a passionate nature and she gave herself up to the sheer erotic pleasure.
His hands moved over her body possessively, needing to take in every inch of her skin. He swept aside the neckline of her shirt so that his mouth could blaze a trail of fire along her neck, lingering for a moment to swirl his tongue over the temptation of her pulse. His hand moved up her narrow rib cage beneath the thin material to cup her lace-covered breast even while his mouth found the ripe offering.
His mouth was hot and moist right through the lace, his tongue coaxing her nipple to a hard peak, the lace scraping erotically along with his teeth, teasing, driving her wild so that her body was pulsating with a terrible need. She circled his head with her arms, tears close, as the waves of sensation rippled through her. Stark pleasure, hot need, a drenching liquid response she couldn’t prevent. It was shocking to Colby and totally unexpected. And unacceptable. She made a sound like a frightened animal, shocked that in his arms she was no longer a thinking person. He could so easily sweep aside her beliefs. She didn’t even know if she liked him.
“Rafael,” Her voice ached with need. Came out breathless and sexy, not at all as she intended. “Stop.” She managed to get the word out. One word. Her body didn’t want him to stop, she wanted him to go on and on forever, to set aside the warnings of her brain and just take her up into the flames. She had never experienced such total pleasure, had no idea anything or anyone could make her feel like he did.
“You do not want me to stop.” He whispered it, a sinful temptation against her breasts, the warmth of his mouth enticing her.
God help her she didn’t want him to stop, not ever. Colby summoned her strength and pushed at him. “I need you to stop. I can’t do this.” She caught her shirt, pulling it down to cover her full aching breasts. Tears glittered, turning her eyes to a deep emerald. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me. I’ve never done this. You have to go.” She could never face him again. Never.
“Colby.” He said her name very softly. His voice seemed to start a fire in the pit of her stomach, the flames spreading rapidly. It terrified her. Totally terrified her.
Colby stepped back away from him and turned and ran as if Rafael was the devil himself. She raced across the yard to the safety of her porch. He listened to her speaking to her brother and sister. Rafael stood in the shadows and watched as they went inside. He stood alone in the darkness. Alone. As he had always been alone. Inside that house was color and life, emotions, passion. Inside that house was life. His world. He stood in the dark where demons belonged, uncertain if he could control the darkness gathering inside him, spreading rapidly. She was hurting inside, a raw aching wound, unsure of herself. And he knew he couldn’t leave her that way.
5
Rafael waited until the house was quiet. He couldn’t tear himself away from Colby. Though hunger beat furiously at him, demanding fulfillment, he refused to heed its call. He would feed later. He could not leave Colby. He found he had less and less control around her. He wanted her, his body raging for release, needing her desperately, needing to complete the ritual to make her wholly his. It was the only way to chain the beast inside of him. It was growing stronger, roaring for release continually. He felt himself close to the edge of madness and knew he was nearly falling over that precipice. He felt it in his every waking moment. And his brother felt it as well. Nicolas monitored him closely, lending him strength when the beast gripped him hard.
One by one the lights shining through the windows went out. He heard the soft murmured words of good night and he felt lonelier and edgier than ever. When he was certain the residents of the house were asleep, he glided across the yard and gained entrance to the house through Colby’s open window.
Nearly insubstantial, Rafael floated across the hardwood floor silently, a dark shadow in the night. Colby was sleeping deeply, her long hair spread out on her pillow, skeins of flaming red-gold silk. One hand was curled into a fist and the other was flung out as if reaching for something. He bent over her, his hot gaze resting on his mark on her neck. He eased his weight onto the bed, his hands finding her beneath the covers even as he deliberately fed her erotic dreams, wanting to arouse her, prepare her body, for she was an innocent. Wake, meu a lindo amor, I need you to be with me this night.
Colby stirred immediately, drowsy, lashes fluttering, not quite awake. She looked sexy, a temptress. “Are you here again? I’ve got to stop dreaming about you.”
You cannot help yourself when you know you are mine alone. The words shimmered in her mind so that the sound of his voice wouldn’t disturb her further. She shook her head, a faint smile greeting him. She looked so beautiful he bent to kiss her. Colby’s skin was incredibly soft and he couldn’t resist touching her. Rafael stretched out beside her, slowly, lazily, an unhurried movement. He had all night with her. At once he felt the hidden power of the comforter covering her. His fingers found the symbols and he traced them carefully. They were safeguards, Carpathian safeguards wov
en into the patterns on the quilt. Where had she acquired such a thing? It was a work of art, rare and precious like the woman it guarded.
Rafael turned on his side, studying Colby. He needed to spend every moment in her company while he could. She was a ray of light in his dark world, sunshine and laughter. He had long ago forgotten even his memories of such things, yet now he clung to the light in her. He didn’t know if he had ever felt gentle or tender toward another, yet he felt something close to those things each time he looked at her.
She murmured his name softly, her breath warm against his neck. Rafael’s body hardened and thickened even more, until he groaned softly, a protest against the urgent demand he couldn’t quite control. He dragged her into his arms and lowered his head to the pillow close to hers. Only her thin pajamas separated him from her soft skin and the haven of her body. I want you, querida. I want you almost as much as I need you. He was aching for her, the words that would bind them together for all eternity in his head, on his tongue, so that he tasted them with every breath he drew.
A smile curved her soft mouth, an invitation. Her body moved restlessly against his. He needed her. There was nothing else in his life. He needed her. With an oath, he wrapped his arms tighter and nuzzled the thin material covering her body up out of his way to expose her breasts to the cool night air. To his hot, burning gaze. She was so beautiful and so vulnerable.
I need to touch you, meu lindo amor, just for a few minutes, allow me to touch you. His voice ached with his need. Ached with his hunger. A velvet soft seduction.
Her eyes opened, emerald green, slumberous, sensual, meeting his black hungry gaze with her own dark passion. Without a word, she turned in to him, slipped her arms around him, her body pliant with surrender.
Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS Page 46