Authors: Patricia Hagan
“Can we slip away now?” she asked anxiously, catching a glimpse of Diego’s jealous stare and Valdis’s scowling face as Cord whirled her about the room. “I don’t think I can stand another moment of this.”
“Not tonight. The plan is set for tomorrow evening at the President’s Ball. It will be much larger than this, and it’s being held at the palace, in the city. I’ll stand a better chance of getting you out because of all the noise and all the people. Armand talked with his aunt, and she’s willing. Just hold on. Things are falling into place.”
“How perfect;” She flashed a smile in Valdis’s direction. “Make sure we slip out right after he announces our engagement. It will be quite embarrassing for him.”
She relaxed in Cord’s arms, allowing him to guide her to the soft rhythm. He was a good dancer, and she felt protected and, for a little while, content.
Suddenly he held her at arm’s length, eyes piercing as he asked, almost gruffly, “Amber, are you sure you know what you’re doing? Is this what you want?”
“I don’t understand,” she replied. “You know I must get away from Valdis.”
“That’s not what I mean.” He grimaced. “It’s Armand. He’s confident you’re falling in love with him. I’m not. I think you’re making a mistake, and he’s going to get hurt. Let me get you out of all this. I can get my hands on some money, and I’ll see that you’re settled somewhere back in the States. Don’t use Armand this way.”
She went rigid in his arms. “Armand and I have no commitments. All we ask is time to see if we love each other.”
“You don’t love Armand,” he stated. “You’re attracted to him because he’s charming and because you think you can control him. You aren’t so sure you can make me dance to your tune.”
“You’re very conceited to think I want to make you do anything at all, Cord Hayden.”
“I’ve held you.” He smiled knowingly. “I’ve felt your body tremble with desire, Amber. You won’t admit it to me, maybe not even to yourself, but you feel something for me. You aren’t sophisticated enough to understand…yet.”
She tried to pull away, but he held her. “Why do you persist in making me angry?” she cried.
He shrugged. “You make yourself angry, because you know I’m telling the truth.”
“You think I’m trifling with Armand.”
“I don’t think you realize what you’re doing. You’re in danger and you need help and you won’t let me help you. And you’re confused. You’re confusing desire with love. You can desire a man without loving him, but you don’t realize that. I don’t want you to make a mistake and hurt yourself and Armand.”
Amber was trembling with rage, her voice ragged as she whispered, “You think Armand will hurt me? You think I’m like some…animal in heat, but I insist on being in love before I allow myself to be bred. Is that it? What I feel for Armand isn’t really love, and what he feels for me is only lust—”
“Exactly. Armand is one of the best friends I ever had, but I tell him to his face that when it comes to women, he’s immature. He wants them all. Why shouldn’t he? Women throw themselves at matadors.”
She jerked away and hurried through the door to the terrace.
“Amber, don’t—” Cord called worriedly, but made no move to follow her.
She reached the terrace and glanced around at the people. Then, glancing back over her shoulder, she saw Valdis striding toward her with Diego close behind. Frantic, she looked about wildly, then saw Armand standing to the side of the terrace, surrounded by admirers. He glanced up and saw her, but turned away. He probably didn’t want Valdis to see him looking at her.
Valdis reached her then and snapped, “What do you think you are doing?”
Diego caught up with them. “It is our dance,” the general’s son said brusquely, reaching for her hand.
“No,” Valdis told him coolly. “We are leaving now. The señorita does not feel well.”
Diego looked alarmed. “I am sorry. Will she and your family be able to join me and my father in our box tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Valdis responded graciously, obviously impressed by the invitation. “Please give our respects to your parents. I will escort my fiancée back to the hotel.”
Diego, puzzled, silently echoed the word.
Fiancée?
He stared after them as they moved away.
Cord, resuming his position near the French doors, watched with cold, brooding eyes.
Chapter Eleven
When they reached the hotel, Amber was the first to alight from the carriage, anxious to escape Valdis and Maretta, who had argued all the way home.
She had reached the front doors when Valdis caught up to her. He hissed, “You will go to your room and remain there until I send for you when it is time to go to the corrida tomorrow.”
“Fine,” she said coolly. “As long as you stay out of my room.”
He looked at her in that smug way and said, “Do not worry,
querida
. I will not taste your fruit until I am entitled to the whole basket. But very soon we will be sharing not only the same room…but the same bed.”
She bit back her angry retort.
Once inside her room, she removed her dress and flung it aside, then pulled a gown from her trunk, slipped it on, and crawled into bed. Outside, she heard a guard take up his nightly vigil at her door. No matter. Soon, she would be free. And with that hope, she welcomed sleep.
The sound of the door clicking open brought Amber upright and awake. As her lips parted to scream, a familiar voice called out softly, “Do not be afraid, my moonstar.”
“Armand,” she cried joyfully, tumbling from the bed to grope for him in the darkness. With a moan, he caught her, wrapping his arms about her to crush her against his chest. “Armand how did you get in here?” But he silenced her with a deep kiss.
“Ah, how I wanted to do that tonight when I first saw you,” he murmured, brushing her hair lovingly back from her face. “To see you and not be able to touch you is a torture I cannot endure much longer.”
“But how did you get in here?” she persisted. “The guard…”
He chuckled as he struck a match. Seeing the lantern beside the bed, he crossed to light it. “Pesos do not buy loyalty,” he said matter-of-factly as he sat down on the bed, patting it for her to join him. “Valdis will learn that one day. I gave the guard more pesos to let me in than Valdis pays him to keep me out. Now, he stands guard for me.”
“Oh, Armand.” She laughed happily, padding across the floor to sit down next to him. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you.”
His expression grew serious as he said, “Tonight, when you ran onto the terrace, you were very upset. You had been dancing with Cord. He has said to you the same things he has said to me, that we should not confuse desire with love. Am I correct?”
“Well…yes,” she stammered, bewildered. Cord had indeed taken it upon himself to meddle in their affairs! She said as much to Armand, who listened with maddening amusement etched upon his handsome face.
When she had finished, he spoke as though she were a child. “Amber, my beautiful darling, you must understand. Cord is my friend. He does not want me to be hurt. He is also your friend, whether you believe that or not.”
Amber was not so sure. “It doesn’t matter what he says, Armand. It’s how we feel. And we really don’t know each other. That’s all I’m sure of right now.”
“Very well,” he began. “You will have to get to know me. You wish to know about the real Armand? I will tell you. I am a matador. It is my life. From the time I was a small boy, I wanted to fight the bulls. Some men marry and later take a mistress, but the bull is my mistress.”
“But why? What makes you live with danger? Tomorrow you could be killed,” she cried.
“But I could also be killed this very night, should Valdis walk through that door.” He chuckled. He stroked her cheek affectionately as he whispered, “I know I could be killed, my moonstar. No matador is without fear. He lives with fear. He wakes in the night with it. When I am actually in the ring, in the midst of the heat of the fight, this is the only time I can completely lose fear. And when I face the time to kill or be killed, then once again my manhood is decided and won. I walk from the ring victorious…only to begin living with fear all over again.”
“I think,” she said, after a pause, “I understand you a little bit better now.”
He laughed. “Ah, then this means you can now love me! So when do we marry?”
Amber found herself laughing at his good-natured spirit. He was so happy, so vibrant, so…so alive. Damn Cord Hayden! What she felt for Armand was the beginning of true love.
“We will marry when we are both sure it is what we want,” she told him, then changed the subject. “What about Valdis? Where will he think I have gone when I disappear tomorrow night? Will he suspect you had anything to do with it?”
“No,” he said bluntly. “I will be giving all my attention to Maretta tomorrow. When it is discovered that you are gone, I will continue to give all my attention to her. I will not be suspected. Perhaps you are thinking that I should be sorry for trifling with her feelings, but there are things you do not know. She deserves this treatment, believe me.”
“But she loves you, Armand,” Amber insisted.
He threw back his head and laughed. “I am sorry. I do not mean to make fun, but as I told you, there are things you do not know. I suppose you have a right to be told—though I have always made it a rule never to discuss the women in my life I have always thought a man who did so was a braggart, and certainly no gentleman.”
He hesitated for a moment, took a deep breath, then continued. “You see, Maretta does not love me. She loves my money, my position, my family name. She tried to feel the love we were told by our parents that we should feel. When we were younger, and both quite foolish, we played together. Our bodies grew and so did the hungers within.” He paused again, searching her face for understanding, then whispered apologetically, “We knew each other, Amber. Do you know what I am saying?”
He rushed on. “This went on for a few years, but as I grew older, I realized that I did not love her and told her so. She was angry and said we had to marry one day. Then, to try and make me jealous, she had an affair with a close friend. I told him I did not love her, and I gave him my blessings to pursue her if he wished.
“But,” he sighed with disdain, “Maretta would not give up. She arranged for me to find them together, hoping I would become enraged. I did not. When she realized her plan had not worked, she fell in love with the other man. He was honest with her from the beginning, and he told her he was not looking for marriage. So she tried to make him jealous, as she had attempted to do with me. He was not jealous, only disgusted. He turned his back on her, and now she hates him.
“So you see”—he kissed her forehead lightly—“Maretta has tried to use two men. She deserves to have the same done to her. She is a treacherous woman, a very dangerous woman. Never turn your back on her, Amber.”
Amber was chewing her lower lip thoughtfully. Something was whirling inside, and suddenly it came to her. “Cord Hayden!” She sat up straight. “That’s it, isn’t it?” She wondered why she had not understood before. Oh, but she sometimes was naive!
“I shall not lie to you,” he said quietly. “It was Cord.”
“And Valdis does not know.”
“No one knew but the three of us. As I say, I do not like to discuss the women in my life, and I never shall again.”
He was gazing at her intently. “You speak excitedly of Cord Hayden,” he said carefully. “He has held you? Kissed you? He has awakened your fire?”
Amber became wary as Armand gave her a mocking smile. “Maretta told me all about his lovemaking…that I am too gentle, too slow, and he is more than any woman can endure. She says with me, she begged only for release, but with him, she begged to die, for she could not live with such deep pleasure. Is that what you want, Amber? To beg to die because you are being loved so savagely? Do you want Cord, Amber?”
“No!” she cried, astounded to hear that Maretta had said such things. “Cord has kissed me, but—”
“But you liked it!” he goaded.
He stared into her eyes, his own narrowed as he said, “Very well. Perhaps I am afraid for no reason. Perhaps I love you so much it drives me a little mad. But heed my words, Amber. If you are using me only to escape Valdis, pretending to care for me, you will regret it. Never have I cared so for a woman, and you will not play with me and then turn away.”
“I have no intention of using you. Perhaps”—she took a deep breath, hating to say the words, but knowing she had to—“perhaps it would be best if I found another way to escape.”
He was silent for a moment. Then he said quietly, “The decision must be yours. But do not make it now. We are both angry.”
She stared at him. Why did everything have to be so difficult? And why had he become jealous of Cord? Was it Maretta’s taunting?
She took another deep breath, determined to make one last effort. “Armand, I thought you understood how I feel. But you seem to feel that you own me. You don’t own me, Armand. No man owns me, or ever will. When I do get married, my husband will not own my body or my soul. I will give my love…but never my freedom. Perhaps you want more from me than I can give you.”
“Is this how you truly feel?” he asked quietly, calmly.