Bed of Roses

by Rebecca Paisley

  “Another day,” Lorenzo replied. “Yes, I can try to pick the lock open another day, Sawyer. You are really anxious to see my skills, aren’t you? I will show them to you soon.”

  Tired of shouting, Sawyer gave the man an affirmative nod. “Come on,” he said to Zafiro, helping her to her feet as he stood. “There’s got to be some way to get these cuffs off.”

  She followed him to the door, but stopped suddenly.

  The beginning of fear crawled over her, like a big bug with a vicious bite. Her heartbeat quickened, her mouth dried, and she couldn’t breathe.

  Luis.

  He was still looking for her. He still wanted and needed her to guard him and his men from danger. He still planned on keeping his promise to find her.

  She could almost hear him whispering those things into her ear, could almost feel his hot breath upon her cheek.

  “Zafiro?” Sawyer asked. “What—”

  She silenced him with a shake of her head, then waited for the hideous apprehension to lessen. “I—”

  “Francisco, where do you think you are going?” Tia wanted to know, turning from the hearth with a long wooden spoon in her hand.

  Sawyer waited for the fear on Zafiro’s face to fade away, then turned to Tia. In the old woman’s eyes he saw an authoritative gleam, a sparkle that indicated she was about to exercise her motherly rights. “I—”

  “You will sit down and eat this stew,” Tia interrupted, and pointed to the pot with the spoon. “It is mostly vegetable, but there is also a bit of fish—”

  “I can’t,” Sawyer told her. “I need to get these cuffs—”

  “You would tell your mother no?” Tia asked incredulously. “Very well, if you will not eat, then you will go straight to bed. I know you are tired, so do not tell me you are not. You spent too much time swimming in the cold stream, you won’t eat, so now you will go to sleep.”

  “I—”

  “Now.” Tia came toward him with the wooden spoon, holding the utensil in such a way as to give him a good smack on the bottom when she reached him.

  “We are going, Tia!” Quickly and firmly, Zafiro dragged Sawyer to the stairs, pulling him behind her as she ascended the steps.

  “Why’d you give in to her?” Sawyer flared when she entered his room and shut the door. “Zafiro, we have to get these cuffs off. I’ve been running around without a shirt on for almost two days, and your blouse is filthy. And now you’ve let Tia have her way—”

  “You saw the look in her eyes.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “You know that look means that she will not be defied, Sawyer. There is nothing else you can do tonight but what she tells you to do. If you do not, she will spank your—”

  “Bottom,” Sawyer finished for her. “I’m a grown man, for God’s sake, and I’m still getting my bottom whacked!”

  Smiling, Zafiro slipped her arms around his bare waist. “It is only for one more night, Sawyer. You will find a way to get the handcuffs off tomorrow. Besides, it is dark outside already.”

  Although he was in no mood for any sort of sensual play, the feel of her breasts upon his chest was difficult to ignore. “Zafiro—”

  “Hold me.” She laid her head on his shoulder.

  He did as she asked, curling his free arm around her back and bending to catch the sweet fragrance of her hair.

  She had faith in him, he mused. She truly believed he had not killed anyone. He wasn’t wholly convinced she was right about him, but her trust in his innocence meant more to him than he knew how to describe.

  “Francisco?”

  At the sound of Tia’s voice as she waddled down the hall, both Zafiro and Sawyer rushed to the bed.

  They’d just laid down when Tia burst into the room. “Zafiro, chiquita,” she said, “just because my stubborn son will not eat is no reason why you should go to bed without dinner. Bound to him as you are, your day was just as busy as his. I have brought you a cup of stew.” She set the cup on the table by the window, gave “her son” another of the frowns that only mothers know how to give, then left the room, shutting the door behind her.

  “Well, here we are again, Sawyer.”

  “Yeah. Here again.”

  Lying in bed beside him, Zafiro turned to look at him. He was staring at the ceiling, his gaze unblinking, his chest rising and falling slowly, rhythmically, as he pondered whatever deep thoughts had suddenly occupied his mind.

  Bright silver moonlight illuminated his face, making clear to her the ruggedness of his features, the sun-weathered texture of his skin, and the rich hue of his long, tawny hair. She felt her pulse skip as she continued to watch him. It was true that she hadn’t seen any men besides her own three for quite a while, but she couldn’t imagine another man as handsome and kind as Sawyer.

  “You have not said much since the ordeal with the cougar," she murmured. “We’ve been back from the stream for hours already. You do not seem to be as upset as you were this morning, but you are not a laughing keg either.”

  He continued to watch nothing on the ceiling. “A barrel of laughs.”

  “A barrel of laughs. Yes, that is what I—”

  “I’m thinking, Zafiro. And no, I don’t want to talk about what I’m thinking.”

  She smiled, comforted by the fact that he knew her so well now. Asking him what he was thinking was exactly what she’d been about to do.

  Still, she vowed he would talk about it before the night was over. For now, however, she would broach another subject entirely. “Are you going to kiss me tonight?”

  At her bold query, a question he was totally unprepared to hear, he felt his lips twitch. The near smile was the first he’d experienced since realizing he might very well have killed four people.

  Zafiro, he thought. She possessed the amazing ability to disturb him when he was happy and make him happy when he was disturbed. It was really the damnedest thing, the way she kept his emotions dancing on her palm.

  “Sawyer?” When he didn’t answer she became bolder and lightly placed her hand on his thigh.

  “Tia’s going to come back, Zafiro,” Sawyer reminded her. “And you know damn well it doesn’t matter if we lock the door or not. She has the key.” His heartbeat began to race; he felt overly warm. Her caresses, slight though they were, made him want to do every sensual thing she suggested and more. “I’ll bet you money she’ll be back at least twice before going to bed.”

  “Yes, but she just left. It will be at least a half hour before she comes back. What kinds of things could we start and finish in a half hour?”

  Sawyer didn’t answer. He could only feel. Zafiro’s fingers had now edged upward and she was slowly, gently stroking his masculinity to life.

  “I wish there was a way we could hide from Tia,” Zafiro said. “But her sight is like a bird’s.”

  “She has eyes like a hawk,” Sawyer corrected. God, Zafiro’s hand felt so good that he could barely stem his rising need for her.

  To hell with thinking tonight, he decided. He could think tomorrow. “You know, Zafiro…little boys like to sleep outside in the woods.”

  “What?”

  Sawyer sat up. “All little boys like to camp outside. I think I want to camp outside tonight. In the woods.”

  Finally, Zafiro began to understand. “But she is punishing you, remember? I do not think she will let you.”

  “What if I asked her real nicely?”

  Zafiro sat up beside him. “Maybe. Yes, maybe. She has apple eyes for you.”

  Sawyer chuckled. “I’m the apple of her eye.”

  “Yes, that is what I—”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what you said, Zafiro.”

  Sawyer got out of bed and waited for Zafiro to follow him to the door and into the corridor. Downstairs in the great room he saw Lorenzo asleep in a chair, Pedro and Azucar eating bowls of stew, and Tia sipping a cup of tea by the hearth. Maclovio was nowhere to be seen.

  “Where is Maclovio?” he asked suspiciously.
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br />   “Francisco!” Tia said when she saw him enter the room. “What are you doing out of—”

  “Maclovio said he had something to take care of, Sawyer,” Pedro answered, then spooned more stew into his mouth.

  Something to take care of, Sawyer mused. He looked out the window. Maclovio was off getting drunk. Two days of sobriety were as much as the man could take.

  Well, Sawyer thought, there was nothing he could do now. It was already dark outside, and searching for Maclovio now would mean dragging Zafiro along as well.

  “Sawyer, my handsome buck,” Azucar said, licking stew off her bottom lip. “Come and sit beside me, and I will whisper sensuous things into your ear while you eat.”

  “Francisco?” Tia said. “I asked you why you were out of bed.”

  “Can I sleep outside?” Sawyer blurted in the best little boy voice he could muster. Hearing Zafiro’s soft giggle behind him, he suppressed a grin.

  “Outside?” Tia frowned.

  “I want to sleep in the woods. Please? Please?”

  Zafiro stepped out from behind Sawyer. “I will be with him, Tia,” she said, lifting their hands and showing the handcuffs.

  Tia set her cup of tea down on the table. “Francisco, I do not think that sleeping in the woods—”

  “But it’s warm outside,” Sawyer argued. “I won’t be cold. I promise I’ll go to sleep as soon as I find a good place to make camp, and I’ll take Mariposa along for protection.”

  Tia shook her head. “You did not eat well today, Francisco. You are being punished, do you forget that?”

  Pulling Zafiro along, Sawyer strode toward the hearth, grabbed a cup, and dipped out a full ladle of the warm vegetable stew he’d not wanted to eat earlier. Quickly, he ate the stew, wiping his mouth with his lower arm when he was finished. “There. I ate. Now can I go camping in the woods?”

  Tia tapped her cheek. “Well…”

  “Please.” Lifting Zafiro’s arm as he lifted his own two, Sawyer hugged the plump woman. “Please, Mama. I love you so much, Mama. Please let me go.”

  His words of love brought tears to Tia’s eyes. Smiling, she returned his hug, patting his back with her fingers. “Very well, my sweet Francisco. You may go. I cannot say no when you ask so sweetly. But you must be back early for breakfast.”

  Sawyer flashed a broad smile. “Thank you, Mama. But don’t look for me, all right? Part of camping is hiding from the enemies. I’ll be hidden.”

  Tia winked at Zafiro. “Yes, Francisco. You must hide from the enemies. Zafiro? Chiquita, are you sure you do not mind sleeping in the woods with him? It is something only a child would want to do, so if you do not want to—”

  “It is only for one night, Tia,” Zafiro replied, trying to sound as though she’d been roped into doing something she really didn’t want to do. “It is all right. I will go with him and make sure he is back early in the morning.”

  “Well, my little Francisco,” Tia said, giving him a loving smile, “you have charmed Zafiro and me into letting you have your way. I think you will have a way with women when you grow up.”

  “A way with women?” Sawyer repeated, feigning innocence.

  Tia nodded. “Yes, but you are too young to understand that now. One day you will know what I am saying. And you, Zafiro, one day you will know too. When you meet the handsome man of your dreams, he will show you what it all means.”

  “Yeah,” Sawyer said, exchanging a secret glance with Zafiro. “One day a man will teach you everything you want to know and more, Zafiro.”

  At his promise Zafiro felt heat and excitement lace through her. Anxious for him to show her the things she wanted to know, she turned and headed for the door.

  “Wait!” Tia called. “I will give you a few things to take with you.”

  Ten minutes later, carrying a blanket, two pillows, and a bag of food Tia had insisted they take, Zafiro and Sawyer left the cabin and entered the dark forest. True to his word, Sawyer had Mariposa come along as well, and the great cat began to lead the way through the woods, her eyesight being much better than that of her human companions.

  After a short while Sawyer began to see better as well. He passed Mariposa and took Zafiro deeper into the woods until he found the perfect spot to spend the night. An open area covered with leaves, surrounded by gently swaying oak trees, and lightly scented by wildflowers, the place shimmered with the iridescent light of the moon.

  It would be their bedchamber, he decided. Here, encircled by nature herself, he would show Zafiro what it meant to be a woman. “Here,” he murmured.

  Zafiro didn’t think she’d ever seen the spot before. “How is it that you have come to know La Escondida better than I do, Sawyer?” she asked as she helped him pile up leaves for their bed.

  He spread the blanket over the mound of soft leaves. “You forget I’ve spent most of my time in these woods. I’ve been all through them, looking for just the right trees to fell.” He took the pillows from her and tossed them down to the blanket. “There’s really only one place here I haven’t been to. Behind the house there’s a bluff that’s covered with juniper. If I had all the money in the world, I’d bet it to prove that’s where Maclovio keeps his still and it’s where he is right now.”

  Zafiro sank down to the leaf bed, pulling Sawyer down with her. “I have looked there. I did not find his still. He has hidden it so well that I do not think God can even—”

  “Zafiro?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll take care of the still.” He gathered her in his arms. “We have other things to talk about and do right now. And believe me, they have nothing at all to do with a little boy’s wish to sleep in the woods and hide from the enemies.”

  His husky tone of voice and the words he murmured sent desire streaking through her like so many hot shooting stars. “You will not stop tonight, Sawyer,” she said, her statement actually a question. “You will—”

  “I won’t stop tonight, Zafiro,” he answered, sliding his hand down the side of her waist. “And in answer to your second question, yes. Yes…I will.”

  With the exception of Zafiro’s shirt, their clothes fell away from their bodies as if by magic. With nothing but the night air and Zafiro’s sapphire between them, they embraced, whispering each other’s names, their need deepening with each caress and kiss.

  And then, suddenly, Sawyer pulled out of Zafiro’s arms and lowered his body downward. On his stomach with his face beside her hips, he looked up into her moonlit eyes.

  The visage of her beauty captured his full attention like the vivid flash of an exceedingly valuable jewel. He could feel her, feel her warmth, her affection, and the genuine kindness that made her who she was.

  Her scent swirled around him, not of roses, nor of sun or wind. She wore the perfume of femininity, a glorious fragrance of womanly softness. It was a fragrance of tenderness, too, and understanding. Of acceptance and concern, of all the things he so needed in his life right now.

  He heard her as well. Her breathing, her heartbeat, and although she said nothing he could hear the sound of her voice sing through his memory. She made music when she spoke, a melody that no instrument could play as beautifully.

  He saw her, felt her, smelled and heard her.

  And now he would taste her.

  At the thought of what he was about to do, desire slammed into him so forcefully, he began to sweat.

  “Sawyer, what are you doing down there?” she asked, confused by his abrupt move.

  He might have explained had he thought mere words could describe what he was about to do. Instead, he showed her.

  She saw him raise his head and lean close over her thighs. She saw his eyes smolder with what she now recognized as desire, and she saw how her own body trembled with anticipation at whatever he was about to do.

  When she felt the gentle pressure of his lips as he kissed the mound of her womanhood, she closed her eyes and gave in to the first tiny hint of pleasure. She’d never dreamed or imagined tha
t a man would want to caress a woman in such a way, but as the exquisite sensations that Sawyer’s sensual attentions created began to heighten, she realized he was showing her only one of the many ways that pleasure could be given and had.

  Without even thinking she parted her thighs, wanting and needing more, and moaning from deep inside when she felt him accommodate her unspoken wishes. As his lips nuzzled into her softness, his tongue flicked across her nether lips. The moan inside her escaped then, filling the forest and telling Sawyer in no uncertain terms that while she was totally unfamiliar with the way he was loving her, she was not at all embarrassed by it.

  That knowledge in mind, he moved his hand between her legs and easily slid two fingers inside her, all the while continuing to bring life to the sweet gem of sensitive flesh that swelled beneath his touch. With his tongue, his lips, his hot breath stroking her unceasingly, he realized instantly when ecstasy was upon her.

  Her body tensed, strained, and her breathing began to come in short pants. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her hands clutch at the blanket, her fingers trembling.

  His own fingers moistened further as the pleasure he gave skimmed through her femininity and traveled through her body, but he persevered with his endeavors until at last her body stilled, her breathing quieted, and a tiny smile appeared on her petal-pink lips.

  Even then he continued to fondle her with his mouth, the essence of her joy a taste too sweet to deny himself.

  “I did not know,” Zafiro whispered, finally opening her eyes and seeing the silver medley of moonlight and star shine glint through the tree branches above. “You did not tell me.”

  “But you know now.” His lips still moved upon her slick softness. The feel, the scent, the sound, the taste, and the sight of Zafiro…

  Every single thing about the woman who lay upon his bed of leaves touched him in such a way that he felt filled to the brim with a contentment that had long eluded him.

  “Sawyer.” Zafiro turned to her side, patting the blanket in an indication that she wanted him to come to her. And when he did as she asked and stretched out beside her, she lowered her body downward, stopping only when her face was next to his hips.