This Fierce Splendor

by Iris Johansen

He spread the blanket beneath a pine tree a few yards away. “Sit down.”

  She was becoming very tired of both his churlishness and his orders, but it would have been ridiculous to refuse a much needed rest out of sheer contrariness. She crossed to the blanket and sat down. The ground was hard but far better than the saddle which had reminded her of an instrument of torture before she had been on it more than fifteen minutes. She stretched her legs out in front of her, supporting herself on her arms. The sky was a brilliant blue between the spiky fronds of the evergreen branches above her, and it was blessedly cool here among the trees. A bird was singing somewhere above her and the air was full of the scent of crushed grass and pine. The surroundings were inexpressibly soothing, and, in a world so lovely, she found it difficult to remain annoyed with Dominic.

  Perhaps he had a good reason for his shortness with her; he had probably wanted to spend these precious hours at Killara with his family yet felt it his duty to come with her. Heaven only knew, she had been burden enough of late to annoy a saint. Her dreamy gaze shifted from the peaceful blue sky to Dominic, who sat leaning against the gray-brown bole of a pine tree a few feet away. His arms were linked loosely around his drawn-up knees and his black stetson was pulled low to shadow his features. It was a relaxed position, but he was radiating a tension that seemed to reach out and touch her with its leashed power. He disturbed her, and she didn’t wish to be disturbed in this tranquil spot. She moistened her lips nervously with her tongue, trying to think of something to say that would rid the atmosphere between them of that disquieting emotional charge.

  “Don’t do that!”

  Her gaze flew to his face. “I beg your pardon?”

  He drew a harsh breath, his fingers clenching together so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Never mind.” He closed his eyes. “Talk to me.”

  She stared at him in bewilderment. “What do you want me to say?”

  “I don’t care.” Anything to keep him thinking and not feeling. Anything to keep him from going over the edge.

  She was silent, looking at him. What did he want from her? He was in need—she could feel it—but she didn’t know how to fill that need. Yet she desperately wanted to help him, she realized suddenly. “Shall I tell you about Kantalan?”

  “Why not? Dreams are as good as anything else.”

  “Its not a dream.” For some reason she experienced no resentment from the impatient comment. “Oh, I suppose dreams were a part of it, but if I hadn’t had more than that to hold on to, they wouldn’t have been enough to sustain me through all those arguments with my father.”

  “I thought he believed Kantalan existed.”

  “He did.” She looked down and began absently to smooth the creases in her riding skirt. “That wasn’t what the arguments were about. It was the city’s origin that my father wouldn’t …” She drew a shaky breath. “He said I was a fool, that I was an ignorant child who would never approach either his knowledge or his insight.” Her nails dug into the heavy gabardine of the skirt. “Maybe he was right about me, but he was wrong in this. I know he was wrong. Kantalan wasn’t built by the Toltecs, it was a separate colony. All the clues were there but he refused even to try to put them together.”

  “Colony?” Dominic’s lids had opened and his light eyes were gleaming in the shadowy darkness of his face.

  She wished she could see his expression, those translucent, burning eyes watching her were making her a little nervous. “Have you ever heard of a place called Atlantis?”

  He didn’t answer her for a moment. “If I have, I don’t remember it.”

  “Atlantis was an island, the birthplace of civilization. It was destroyed by a great earthquake that sent it to the bottom of the sea. Everyone thinks it’s a fable made up by Plato, but I believe it existed.” She paused. “And I believe Kantalan was one of its colonies.” She waited, as if expecting him to refute her words. When he didn’t speak, she rushed on. “Oh, I know Atlantis was supposed to have been in the Mediterranean and Kantalan half a world away, but there are too many similiarities for them not to be tied together somehow. No argument can convince me that Kantalan didn’t spring from Atlantis.”

  “I’m not arguing, Elspeth. I’m listening.”

  And watching her with an intentness that made her heart pound and her mouth grow dry. She looked down again, her finger nervously resuming its tracing of the crease in the fabric of her skirt. “I’m sorry, I guess I’ve become accustomed to defending my theory from attack.” She moistened her lips again with her tongue. She heard a low sound, as if Dominic had suddenly shifted, but when she looked up she realized she must have been mistaken; he was sitting in the same place. Watching her. “It seemed so clear to me. There are so many similiarities.”

  “What similiarities?”

  “The legend of Kantalan speaks of its great pyramids, and Atlantis had pyramids. Both civilizations worshiped Ra, the sun god. Atlantis had four rivers intersecting the city and Kantalan is said also to have had four rivers forming a cross in the middle of the city. The legend speaks of a great lodestone in the temple of Ra that had magical properties. What other civilization could have given birth to such a wonder? Oh, there are so many things. I believe that the Egyptians, Toltecs, Mayans, and the Incas were also colonies, but that they somehow evolved differently. Perhaps because of Kantalan’s isolation it was able to retain its similarities to the mother country. Dear heaven, I hope that’s true. Can you imagine actually being there, studying a city that’s a mirror of Atlantis?”

  “No, I can’t imagine it.”

  “Well, I can.” Her eyes glowed softly with excitement and her breasts were rising and falling with each breath. “I can imagine strolling through the streets and seeing the statues of the ten kings, of walking into the palaces and finding the ceilings of ivory and walls of gold. I can imagine seeing the four rivers that form a cross and the—”

  “Stop!” He was suddenly beside her, pushing her back on the blanket. He had tossed his hat aside and she could see what had been hidden in its shadow. Her breath left her body and heat turned her bones soft and melting. His chest labored with the harshness of his breathing and a pulse pounded wildly in the hollow of his throat. “I can’t imagine any of those things. I don’t know anything about Atlantis or Kantalan. I don’t even want to know. All I want is you.” His lips covered hers with a fervor that brought no pain. His arms closed around her with desperation, his hands tangling in her hair as he moved over her. His lips worked swiftly, feverishly, draining her of strength in a hundred kisses that robbed her of breath and made her head spin.

  “No!” she murmured. “I don’t want this.”

  “Yes, you do,” he muttered. “We both do.” His tongue plunged into her mouth, stroking her with warmth. Lowering his hips, he moved slowly, yearningly, against her.

  She gasped, a shiver tingling through her. Maybe he was right. Maybe she did want this to happen, she thought dazedly. It was difficult to decide with this haze of heat enclosing her. Dominic’s fingers were swiftly unbuttoning her blouse, pushing down the straps of her chemise. She should stop him.

  Her breasts were swollen, hurting as they had the night they’d ridden back to Hell’s Bluff. She gazed up at Dominic’s face in helpless fascination. His sun-gilded skin was flushed, his lips drawn back from his teeth in a feral grimace. Slowly he pulled down the bodice of her chemise and looked at her. Something strange began to happen to her then. Her nipples were turning hard, rosy, tight, and she had a wild urge to lift herself, offer her breasts to the man looking at them with such hunger. But she didn’t have to offer, his dark head was lowering slowly and his breath came out in a low groan.

  “This is what I’ve wanted to do a thousand times in the last few weeks,” he said hoarsely. “I wanted to get rid of these damn clothes and look at you.” His hand closed on her left breast and his palm tightened around it, throwing the pink crest into pointed prominence. “I wanted to make you bloom for me.” His mouth enveloped her,
his lips sucking strongly as if to pull the nectar from a honey-sweet flower.

  Fire. In her veins, in the soles of her feet, in the air flowing through her lungs. She cried out, her spine arching up to him.

  He was murmuring thickly, feverishly, as his tongue gently teased the nipple he had brought to life and subjugation. “I want to know that all I have to do is reach out and touch you and this will happen.” His hand wandered down her body. “Spread your legs, love. I want to feel how soft you are down there.” His palm gently rubbed between her thighs. She tensed, inhaling sharply. The material separating them was a pitifully inadequate barrier against the warm hardness and fiery friction. “I dream about you, do you know that? I dream I’m looking at this pretty part of you and I remember how you felt against my hand.”

  She wasn’t fighting him, perhaps this was what she had wanted to happen. Perhaps she was so lost to virtue that she wanted to give herself to Dominic Delaney as his other women had. Cats in the dark …

  “No!” She rolled suddenly to the opposite side of the blanket. She had caught him by surprise. “You’re wrong, I’m not like …” Tears were suddenly raining down her cheeks. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Why?” He lifted his head, his eyes blazing. “Because I’m going insane.” His face was taut with strain. “For God’s sake, stop crying.” His hands closed into fists as if fighting for control. “You’re not hurt.”

  She wasn’t sure that was true. There was a dull, empty ache between her thighs and a sharp pain somewhere near her heart. She sat up, adjusted her chemise, and quickly buttoned her blouse. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “I know that.”

  “Then stop wailing.” He stood up, leaned down, and lifted her roughly to her feet. “You’ve ‘rested’ long enough. We’re going back to the house.” He picked up his hat, turned, and strode down the trail to where the horses were tethered.

  “I don’t know why you’re angry with me,” she called. She wrapped her arms around herself to stop the trembling. “It’s not my fault you’re having to do without your hetaeras.”

  He didn’t answer. He untied the horses and led them up the trail.

  “It’s not sensible to be upset with me just because I resisted your advances. You’re certainly no gentleman.”

  A flare of anger lit his pale eyes with icy fire. “No, you’re right, I’m no gentleman, I’m a fool. I’ve been acting like a bloody sheepbrain, sighing and afraid to speak, lusting but afraid to touch.” His hands closed on her waist and he tossed her onto the saddle. “No more, Elspeth. No more.”

  She looked down at him, her fair hair tumbled to her shoulders in a wild cloud of tawny gold, her eyes as green as the pine forest around her. “What are you saying?” she whispered.

  “That you’ve made me into a milksop, a weakling.” His lips parted in a reckless smite. “Somewhere in our acquaintance I stopped being Dominic Delaney and became Elspeth MacGregor’s whipping boy. But it’s come to an end, Elspeth.”

  “I never tried to change you.” She lifted her chin. “Not that you couldn’t have used a good deal of reformation.”

  “Perhaps you didn’t have to try. Maybe guilt did the task for you. Whenever I thought I’d broken the chains that held me, you managed to forge new ones to hold me at your heels.” His smile deepened and she was suddenly seeing the rakish devil-beauty she had encountered that first evening Dominic had walked into the parlor at the hotel. “Well, it’s over. I once told Patrick I was my father’s son. You’d best remember that, sweetheart. Da and I take what we want and worry about the consequences later.” He turned away and swung into the saddle. “I didn’t have to let you go just now. I figure that makes us even. I don’t owe you anything any longer.” He turned his horse and started down the trail. “And I won’t be fool enough to let you go again. Lock your door tonight. Don’t be alone with me for a minute. Never believe a word I tell you.” He glanced over his shoulder to direct a mocking smile at her. “And you might remain a virgin for another twenty-four hours.” He turned around and kicked the black into a gallop. “But it’s not likely. Not likely at all, Elspeth.”

  Ramon Torres sighed morosely as he slid the rifle back into its saddle holster. He remounted Chiquita, turned, and whipped the mare into a dead run. It was necessary he be back at Killara before Delaney, and the man was moving at a breakneck pace down the trail. Ah, well, he would make it. He had scouted these hills and knew every shortcut possible. It was a necessary precaution for a man in his profession to know the lay of the land.

  He really should have taken the shot, but he had never dreamed Dominic would stop before he had entered the little gringa. Ramon still felt the disappointment eating at him. He had wanted desperately to watch his prey moving in and out of his woman, unknowing of the power that, he, Ramon, held over him. He could feel his loins harden at the thought of looking down the sight of his rifle and slowly, very slowly, pulling the trigger.

  His lips curved in a smile of genuine enjoyment as he realized what a fine death that would be for any man. He wanted Dominic Delaney to have a death worthy of him. He had a fine bold name and possessed the dark, dangerous beauty of a great cat. It was going to be a rare pleasure to put Dominic down, and this little setback should not really bother Ramon. He had found that unexpected twists of fate often made the game only more exciting. He was glad he hadn’t been hasty. Now he could savor the kill. Perhaps he would even pamper himself and get close enough to watch Dominic’s eyes as he died.

  Dominic wanted the gringa. God alone knew why the man had stopped when she had resisted him, but it might be to Ramon’s advantage. There was no more potent bait under the sun than a bitch in heat and no more thrilling kill than the death of a man who was enjoying life to the fullest.

  He suddenly laughed aloud as an amusing idea occurred to him. Why not make Dominic a present of the gringa? Then Ramon could lie in the loft tonight and look at the great house and imagine what Dominic was doing to the woman. It would bring him the most delicious pleasure, to know he was controlling the prey unbeknownst to Dominic, and the possession of a woman always brought a feeling of joy and satisfaction to a man that made life infinitely sweeter.

  His laughter faded but the smile of satisfaction remained as he leaned low over Chiquita’s neck and murmured softly, urging her to go faster. Ah, yes, Dominic Delaney might yet get his chance for the fine death Ramon had planned for him.

  14

  “I am tired of being white.” Silver flung open the door to Rising Star’s room without knocking. She made a face as she saw Rising Star sitting, quill pen in hand, at the small secretary by the window. “I cannot breathe in this house. How can you bear it?” She pulled her tunic over her head and tossed it on the bed before dropping to the floor and, crossing her legs. She brought her loose dark hair over one shoulder and began to braid it. “Come down off your fine chair and be Indian with me.”

  Rising Star slowly shook her head. “I’m comfortable here.” She put her pen back in the crystal inkwell. “Where is Elspeth?”

  “She decided to go for a ride and sent me to you. She said she did not need me.” Silver shrugged her bare shoulders. “I do not care. I am tired of being a nursemaid anyway.”

  “Are you?” Rising Star asked. “Then it is good that soon she will no longer need you. You can leave this house and go back to where you are happier.”

  Silver’s eyes narrowed on her aunt’s face. “Why do you not come with me? You are not happy here either. They do not like Indians in this house and you cannot change what you are.”

  “I have made a place for myself here,” Rising Star said. “I am content.” She smiled as her hand gently touched her abdomen. “And soon I will be more content.”

  “Do you think they will love you more because you give them a half-breed baby?” Silver asked bitterly. You are blind. They will treat your child as they treat me.”

  “You’re wrong. Joshua will not permit his baby to be treated as an outcast,” Risi
ng Star said quietly. “He wants our child very much.”

  “Did he tell you this?”

  “No, but I know it to be true,” Rising Star said. “It is natural for a man to want a child. If I had been able to give him a son before, there would have been less—” She paused. “Things will be better once the child is born.”

  “How do you know?” Silver tossed the thick braid back over her shoulder and turned to face her aunt. “What if the child does not help? Will you stay here and grow old with these people who think you are less than they?”

  “Joshua does not treat me as they do. There is love between us.”

  Silver’s eyes blazed. “I do not understand a love that makes you grow quieter and sadder with every year. Joshua should fight them and make them treat you as a member of the family.”

  Rising Star shook her head sadly. “I cannot expect to be treated as a Delaney until I’m truly one of them. The child will help. Joshua will—”

  “He is cold to you,” Silver said angrily. “When he is with you, there is no closeness. He will not change because—” She stopped as she saw the pain that tightened Rising Stars features. She muttered something beneath her breath and suddenly sprang to her feet and ran across the room. She dropped to her knees before Rising Star, her arms encircling her aunt’s waist, her cheek pressed against her breasts. Her words were muffled. “I am sorry. I grow so angry and the words rise up and cannot be stopped. I did not mean to sting you.”

  “I know.” Rising Star’s hand tenderly stroked Silver’s shining dark hair. “But you’re wrong, Silver, Joshua does love me. It is not easy for him to be married to me.”

  “Why? You give everything and take nothing. You have become everything they want you to be. They wanted no ignorant savages in their house, so you studied and became more learned than any of them. You cast off your comfortable Indian garments and wear clothes that bind and stifle. You speak softly and are kind to everyone.” She lifted her head to smile wryly. “Even to me, who causes you much pain.” The smile faded. “You are a great lady and they do not see it. It would be better for you to come away with me. I will take such good care of you,” she promised with touching, childlike earnestness.