"There was," Dimitri said, his voice flat and cold, "and you two made it. Now, walk."
Vicente rose unsteadily, cursing the wine he had consumed and difficulty he was having thinking clearly. Juan eyed Sergei with narrowed eyes and Sergei waved the pistol. "Do not consider it, fellow," Sergei said. "Rise and follow your friend."
In silence the men went through to the back door and stepped out into the yard. Dimitri prodded Vicente until he was in the center of the straggly clearing behind the tavern. "Where is the girl?"
Vicente gaped at him.
"You will tell me where you took the girl."
"We know nothing of a girl," Juan said quickly, sending Vicente a warning glance.
"We have found your horses in the livery stable," Dimitri said coldly, "and we have been tracking you since you took the girl from her estate. You have ten seconds to tell me where you took her or I will kill you."
Vicente had no doubt that this frosty eyed stranger meant it. He shivered. "Senor—"
"Vicente! Keep your mouth shut! We know nothing of a girl!" Juan shouted.
Vicente mumbled, "That's right. You have mistaken us for someone else."
Dimitri turned his attention to Juan, obviously the leader of the two. "If you do not wish your friend to tell me, then perhaps you will oblige. I will have the information and quickly."
"If you shoot us, you will learn nothing."
"That is quite true. If I shoot you, however, I think Vicente here will tell me everything I want to know."
Juan shot a poisonous glance at his shaking friend, knowing only too well the truth of that. His hand slipped deeper into his pocket and before Sergei could move, he had lunged at Vicente. The long blade glittered in the moonlight and Dimitri leaped forward, his hand striking the point away just in time. With a snarl, Juan turned toward him, his eyes flaming with drunken rage.
Dimitri thrust the pistol in his belt and moved in, dividing his attention between Juan and the hovering point of that knife. He was reluctant to shoot the man. The sound of a gun shot would bring men and questions and he could not afford the time to deal with that. He needed these men to talk and quickly. He lunged forward, his fist driving hard for Juan's chin. The blow landed just off center and Juan's head snapped back. He hung, poised, for a long moment and then slid to a crumpled heap. Sergei knelt by him, then looked up at Dimitri. "Out, m'lord. Dead drunk, too."
Dimitri dismissed Juan from his thoughts and turned to the shivering Vicenté. "Now," he said grimly, his face a pale mask of fury in the moonlight. "Where did you take the girl?"
Vicente dropped to his knees and reached a trembling hand out to Dimitri. "Senor," he begged, "do not kill me! We were paid, I swear, to take the girl!"
"Paid by whom?"
"I don't know! Before God," he swore, "I never saw the man. Juan met with him and got our orders! We took the girl to Madam Lita."
Dimitri heard Andres suck in his breath and turned to him. "Madam Lita?"
"She runs an expensive brothel by the waterfront."
Vicente took one look at the face that was turned back to him and began to sob miserably, his face in his hands. "Spare me, Senor," he cried.
For a long moment Dimitri stared down at him, fighting to subdue the surge of violent anger that threatened to consume him. He wanted to seize the terrified man by the throat and choke the life from him but with a great effort, he refrained. Without saying a word, he turned on his heel and went around the house to the dingy street.
"Do I slit his throat?" Andres asked, joining him.
"No. Fetch the men and lead me to Madam Lita's."
Andres ran off into the darkness and Sergei looked at Dimitri's shuttered face.
''That one back there, m'lord, is too frightened and drunk to do anything. I could tie him up if you wish but I don't think it is necessary."
"Leave him. His wits are too fuddled with drink and fear to even think of carrying a warning to Madam Lita's."
Sergei said gruffly, "She is all right, m'lord. There has scarcely been time—"
"There had better not have been time," Dimitri bit out, "or—" His voice choked in his throat and he stopped. Mother of God, he thought. A brothel! What fiendish mind planned this?
"This way, senor," Andres called, leading the men and horses down the street. "It is not far."
Chapter Ten
Dimitri surveyed the house that Andres pointed out and then set out at a brisk walk. He cut between Madam Lita's and the nearest house and stopped in the dark alley behind them. "The men will wait here," he said to Andres, keeping his voice low. "We will try to bring her out the back door." He could just see the rear door in the moonlight.
"Do we go in that way?" Sergei asked.
"See if it is unlocked."
Sergei went noiselessly down the alley, bent over the knob of the back door and returned. "It is locked, m'lord. Bolted, I think, from the inside."
"Then we go in the front."
"I go with you," Andres said. "The rest will wait here."
Dimitri nodded. "Use swords, if possible. I'm sure we'll meet some resistance and gun shots will bring curious spectators that will only hamper us. Our best chance is to go in fast, find Leonor and get out before the entire house is roused. I think they will have her upstairs. They'd never dare trust her in a ground floor room! Not if they've taken her measure," he added, his face softening for a moment. He drew his sword, heard Sergei's scrape against the scabbard and saw Andres draw a long knife from his belt. Then he led the way to the front door.
It was unlocked. Dimitri opened it and walked into the foyer, Sergei and Andres close behind him. A huge man stood at the foot of the stairs and he turned when he heard the door open. He advanced to meet them. His gaze went over Dimitri, taking in the expensive cut to the riding clothing and the aristocratic lines of the face and he bowed. "Senor," he began, when his glance fell on Andres. He broke off, studying the rougher clothing and frowned. "You, fellow, you can't come in here."
Dimitri spun towards him, shifting the sword into his left hand. His right hand, doubled into a fist, drove hard into Alfredo's middle, doubling him up. Dimitri's left hand came down hard, the hilt striking the man on the back of his head. He fell to the floor with a thump. Loud laughter and music coming from a room to the left of the stairs covered the sound and Dimitri stepped over him and reached the stairs in three long strides. He bounded up them, his sword still held in his left hand, hearing Sergei's boots clatter on the stairs behind him. At the top a man stepped out of the shadowy dimness of the hall and barred his way.
"What—" he began, eyeing the naked sword.
Dimitri seized him and, with a great heave, threw him over the banister. The crash rocked the house and the music and laughter abruptly stopped. Dimitri didn't pause. He sped down the hall, flinging doors open and looking in. Behind him Sergei and Andres were doing the same with the other side of the hall. The babble of sound grew. Women shrieked and the air was thick with men's deeper voices cursing.
Halfway down the hall, he encountered a locked door. The knob turned uselessly in his hand and he stepped back. He sent a quick glance back down the hall. Sergei and Andres were engaged with several men who, in various stages of undress, had tumbled from the rooms, protesting the interruption. The panting of struggling men was nearly drowned out by the hysterical shrieks of the women, emerging from the rooms clutching dressing gowns or sheets to cover their nakedness.
Dimitri sheathed his sword and kicked the lock as hard as he could. The rending crash echoed down the hall as the door swung inward violently. The dark room loomed beyond and he bounded forward, his lips parting to call Leonor's name. Something heavy flew past his head, to crash against the doorjamb and splinter into a thousand fragments on the floor. Dimitri turned toward a sound and, in the light from the candles in the hall, saw someone swing a wooden chair at his head. He ducked and caught the chair, throwing it aside.
"Leonor!"
A gasp punctuated the dark
ness, then a breath caught on a sob. "D-Dimitri?"
"Stop throwing things at me!"
He advanced into the room, pushing the door wide open and saw her leaning weakly against the wall.
"Y-you took your time getting here," she whispered.
Then his arms were around her, supporting her and she leaned against him. "Are you all right?"
"Yes." Her whisper was just a thread of sound.
"Can you walk? We've got to fight our way out of here."
"I can walk." She pushed back and he let her go, making sure she was standing steadily before he turned her toward the door. He drew his sword and drew her into the hall, his arm tightly around her shoulders.
A full scale brawl had developed in the hall. Sergei and Andres were both fighting off enraged men, while several others had begun to swing drunkenly at each other. The girls pressed against the wall, crying and shrieking and Leonor stood frozen at the tumult. But that firm arm around her urged her on and she went forward hesitantly. A man lunged at Dimitri and he raised his sword, holding the man off. A wine bottle crashed against the wall in front of them and Dimitri pushed her aside, clear of the shower of wine and glass.
"Senor!" Andres cried sharply.
Dimitri half turned, to see a man behind him cocking a pistol. It was aimed straight at Dimitri's middle and he measured the distance between himself and the unwavering barrel. Then something sang past his head and the man lurched, the pistol falling from nerveless hands as the knife sticking from his chest quivered. Dimitri half smiled at Andres. "Gracias."
"It is getting crowded here, senor. Perhaps we should leave?"
Dimitri was in full agreement. He scooped Leonor against him and began to force his way down the hall. Sergei and Andres, falling back toward the stairs, helped cleave a path through the struggling, swearing bodies. Then Dimitri was guiding Leonor down the stairs. He stopped abruptly. Men were fighting here, too, but a woman, a tall woman in a velvet gown, waited near the foot of the stairs, a pistol held firmly in her hand.
"Stop!" she said coldly. "If you come another step, I'll shoot the girl."
But it was at Dimitri that the pistol was pointed. Before Dimitri could move, Leonor had darted past him, seeing that Madam Lita's attention was on Dimitri and not her, and had seized the woman's arm, forcing it down. They struggled briefly, the slim girl and the large woman, but Leonor's strength was fueled by desperation and fury and she wrenched the pistol from that hard hand and flung it across the room. Madam Lita stumbled and turned to grab at the banister. Leonor's foot lashed out, catching the woman hard on her rear. Madam Lita tumbled backwards down the rest of the stairs and landed in the midst of the struggling group of men, sending them sprawling on the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. Dimitri caught Leonor's arm and pushed her around the edge of the stairs toward the back door. "Through the back," he said. His voice was tight with relief but the glance he gave her retreating back was proud.
The fresh sea breeze stirred her hair as Dimitri tossed her up in the saddle. For a moment she longed for her riding habit as she struggled to pull the flimsy cotton skirt over her legs before giving up and taking the reins he thrust at her. Men swirled around her as Sergei and Andres bounded into their saddles and followed Dimitri out of the alley. Behind them, they could hear shouts shattering the quiet and someone crashed through one of the downstairs windows, falling heavily onto the packed dirt of the alley. Dimitri grinned. There would not be much left of Madam Lita's by morning, if that brawl was not stopped soon! He felt lightheaded with relief and fatigue but he kept their horses at a fast trot until they had left the town behind and pounded away into the darkness toward the coast road.
Leonor rode beside him, with Andres on her other side and Sergei flanking Dimitri. She shivered suddenly from nerves and cold as the wind whipped her bare arms. Dimitri saw her shiver and tugged his cloak from his shoulders and leaned over to hand it to her. Their eyes met in the moonlight and she saw him eyeing the deeply cut bodice of her dress. But he said nothing, only straightened up and concentrated on leading them safely down the windswept highway.
There had been no sign of pursuit so when they reached the twisting canyon where they had spent the previous night, Dimitri drew rein. "We'll camp here."
The men bustled about lighting camp fires and Leonor sat down on a fallen boulder. The wind whistled down the narrow canyon, moaning eerily and she shivered. Dimitri saw her draw the cloak more closely about her and collected a blanket from his saddle-pack and held it out for her. "Wrap up in this and rest. It's been a long night for you."
She took it doubtfully. "What about you? This is your blanket."
"I'll survive without it. Unless," he added teasingly, "you are willing to share it?"
She looked around, realizing that Andres and Sergei had tactfully left them alone by the campfire and had joined the rest of the men around the other fire. She surprised him by saying, with a flash of humor, "I am perfectly willing to share your own blanket with you if you don't snore."
Dimitri laughed. "I don't snore," he promised her. He took the blanket and sat down in front of the boulder, leaning against it. "Come here."
Having doubts about the wisdom of this, Leonor gingerly sat down beside him and let him spread the blanket over them both. His arm went around her, cradling her head against his shoulder. "Feel free to use me as a pillow," he said, the amusement very evident in his voice. "I'm softer than the boulder."
Leonor refrained from answering that provocative remark and tried to settle herself comfortably against him.
"Relax!" he murmured, feeling her taut body against his. "I won't bite you."
"I'm never quite sure of that!" she retorted but she did try to relax. Her back and legs ached from the long ride and she was more tired than she knew. Soon, lulled by the warmth of the fire, the blanket and his warm body against her, she dozed off, her head resting comfortably against his shoulder.
Dimitri looked down at her, nestled against him in sleep, and a tender smile touched his lips. Her hair was tangled and coated with dust from the fast ride through the darkness. He could see a streak of dust on her face, angling across her cheek from nose to ear. His arm tightened protectively around her. She had shown more courage than he'd thought possible in this adventure. He had noticed the raw marks of her bonds on her wrists and her cheeks were roughened from her gag, yet she had greeted him with spirit and had acted promptly and courageously in the face of danger. Leonor was not like the other young ladies he'd met here who would have swooned with terror the moment the strange men had appeared!
He must have dozed himself for he awoke suddenly and looked sharply around. All was quiet by the campfires. The wind still whistled down the canyon and he could see the two guards he'd posted patrolling at each end of the clearing. Leonor still slept. His left arm, supporting her shoulders, was beginning to cramp. He decided it must have been that which awakened him. He eased her further onto his chest and flexed his arm.
She stirred and opened drowsy lids.
''What is the matter?" she murmured.
"Nothing. Go back to sleep."
Leonor yawned. "You stink of horses."
He grinned and brushed her tumbled curls off her forehead. "Your face is dirty."
"Beast! You have no manners."
"So you've said before. I think I like your face dirty. It gives you character." Before she could say anything in answer to that laughing taunt, he'd leaned down and kissed her.
It was a light kiss but it was the first real kiss Leonor had ever had. Her eyes widened in surprise and he chuckled. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, trying to push back away from him.
"I'm kissing you."
He promptly reached down and kissed her again, pulling her firmly into his arms. Leonor was held mute and motionless by the astonishing emotions his lips were rousing. An unexpected warmth was spreading through her as he kissed her, not lightly but very thoroughly and expertly. His free hand came up to trace t
he line of her jaw as his mouth continued to caress hers. She felt as if she were seeing this scene from a distance and knew she should stop him but she was so intrigued by the emotions he'd stirred in her that she made no attempt to push him away. Instead, her arms went around him and she leaned against him, responding to his kiss.
To Dimitri, what had begun as a light, teasing kiss had deepened into something more. He felt his own emotions responding to her innocent but potent ardor and was bewildered at the speed with which the tables had turned on him. He had awakened a response he had not expected and the sheer sweetness of it drugged his senses and his mind. He kissed her hungrily, his hand sliding down her back, pressing her soft, supple body to his. As she answered his demands, met his passionate need with a new, heady need of her own, he struggled for sanity. With a gasp he pushed her back enough to break the heated embrace. He tried to steady his voice and slow his breathing. "You," he said huskily, "are a minx!"
Surrender by Moonlight Page 15