Gypsy Lady (58 page)

The
quick flash of surprise that shuttered in his black eyes before Davalos
recovered himself caused a warm feeling of satisfaction in Catherine's veins.
Bastard! Given the chance, she might kill him before Jason had the opportunity!

Aware
that his men were watching them curiously, Davalos allowed his ugly temper full
freedom and, taking delight in her helplessness, slapped Catherine viciously
across the mouth and commanded, "Silence! I will do the talking! How dare
you threaten
me!
"

The
taste of blood on her tongue, her teeth stained faintly pink, Catherine created
a slight ripple of surprise through the soldiers as she smiled with her
bloodied lip and taunted, "How brave you are against a bound woman. Loose
my hands and let us see how really bold you can be!" Casting a look in the
direction of the men who sat silently nearby, she jeered, "Afraid I shall
mark you as I did them?" And Juan, whose face would forever wear the mark
of her teeth, involuntarily made the sign of the cross—what manner of woman was
this? Surely, she must be of the devil!

Nearly
choking with fury and driven by the need to wipe the mocking smile from her
face, Davalos swung his booted foot and caught her full in the chest and sent
her sprawling at his feet. The breath being knocked from her body combined with
the knowledge she must be cautious froze the derisive retort she would have
flung in his face. There was no sense in getting kicked to death merely to
prove Davalos was a cowardly bully—she already knew he was!

Davalos
stood staring down at her as if he hoped she would dare him again, but she lay
motionless, her eyes glittering defiance, her mouth remaining shut. Smiling at
his sudden victory, he left her there and swaggered over to his men, satisfied
he had proven to them that she was only a bothersome woman like any other. Show
enough male strength and they were all the same, he thought contemptuously,
mewling,
clinging
objects to be ground beneath a
man's foot.

But
Davalos miscalculated his men. They were
not
reassured by Catherine's capitulation, and
uneasily their glances slid away from this strange female who smiled despite
blows and whose eyes glowed so queerly violet. They were a brutish, uneducated
lot, viewing with suspicion anything that did not fall within clearly defined
lines. Catherine was obviously outside of anything they had come across, and
she aroused a feeling of superstitious fear in several breasts, for unaware or
uncaring of what they thought, she continued to taunt and jeer at Davalos like
an angry wasp against a raiding bear, and when Davalos, driven beyond control,
would strike her, she would smile—a mirthless, frightening smile.

By
the time they reached Trader's Clearing, she was riding on her nerves alone. It
was pride that kept her stiffly erect in the saddle and anger that gave her
courage when she would have faltered. The sight of the log building aroused
hope, but then its deserted air let her know that no help would be found here.
Knowing that Davalos had no intention of freeing her and that he was using her
as bait to draw Jason further into
danger,
she
constantly racked her brain for a way to escape. The knife was a comfort to
her, and she would have freed herself long ago, if only she would have been
unobserved for a short time; however, she was watched closely. Several times
she thought of attempting it despite the odds, but knowing she would have just
one chance, she couldn't risk having her knife taken.

Fiercely
concentrating on a method of escape, she missed the openly assessing glance
Davalos gave her as they entered the empty building. Her eyes had lit with a
hopeful gleam when he had shoved her into a small room and locked the door,
and she was so busy planning on how best to use the privacy offered that the
long, knowing look that swept her body went unnoticed. Left alone in the small
room she listened intently to the sounds of the men as the horses were
unsaddled and camp was made for the night. "Please," she prayed
silently, "please let them leave me locked in here tonight." And already
her fingers were defying the ropes that bound her hands behind her back and
were itching towards the hidden knife. All she needed was for the Spaniards to
bed down, and when she was certain they were asleep, like a flash she would be
free and out the window. A second more and she would have a horse—then nothing
would stop her. She would make damn sure they didn't recapture her, even if she
had to drown herself in the river to stop them. A nervous giggle slipped out
when she realized how foolish it would be to carry things
that
far!

She
could smell the wood fire now burning in the long unused cook pit, and from the
sounds of their movements, she decided the men must be settling down in the
main room of the building. Briefly she wondered how long they would be staying
here. Was this where Davalos planned to ambush Jason? And if so, what could she
do to prevent it?

The
sound of the door opening caused her to give
a
start
of surprise, and hiding her emotions she faced Davalos. "Feeding time for
the beasts?" she asked scathingly, one slim eyebrow
raising
disdainfully as she eyed the plate of food he held in his hand. But for some
reason Davalos only smiled and putting down the full plate of greasy beans
untied her hands.

She
waited for him to leave, briskly rubbing the circulation back into her numb
arms and hands. When he crossed to the door and dropped the wooden bar in
place, she was vaguely uneasy, but determined to ignore him, she quickly ate
the food. Finished she waited docilely for him to retie her hands as he had
done every night, but with a strange glint in the black eyes he murmured,
"You know I have always admired you. Even in Natchez you fascinated me.
And," he added meaningfully, "I find the way you defy me
stimulating!"

Frozen,
the color draining from her cheeks, Catherine stared at him. Oh, God, she
moaned silently, not
this!
Warily
she backed away from him hoping she had misread the flicker of desire in his
cold eyes. Her throat tight she muttered, "You have a queer way of showing
your admiration."

An
ugly smile crossed his thin lips. "You see, even now you fence with me.
Another woman would have asked questions or shed tears but you—you resist me!
It is intriguing."

Catherine
regarded him steadily, much in the manner she would a ravaging wolf, and he
surprised her by saying casually, "Your husband does not love you, and
since you were obviously hiding from him in Natchez, I can safely assume you
bear him no love. If,
amiga,
you
throw in your lot with me, I can rid you of him and make you the richest woman
in New Spain!"

Unable
to believe what she was hearing, Catherine stood dumbstruck in the center of
the room. She shook her head impatiently as if trying to clear her brain, and
Davalos, still smiling, reached for her. Her stunned brain flashed a warning a
second too late, but still she fought him like a young tigress intent on
escape. Her struggles seemed to delight him, but when she very nearly escaped
his clutches a third time, he grew angry and as the quiet, furious battle
raged, he managed to capture her hands and bind them cruelly and tightly behind
her back. Like a cornered animal, Catherine searched feverishly for a hiding
place, a
sanctuary,
anywhere that would protect her
from what she knew must come. But there were only four barren walls. Her eyes
like violet fire, she spat, "You call yourself a man? What manner of
man
are you that the only way you can mount a woman is
with her hands tied?"

But
Davalos was in such a grip of lust that her words were brushed aside
heedlessly, and he threw her onto the dirt floor, ripping open the linen shirt,
his hands reaching brutally for her small, full breasts. Her arms pinned not
only by the weight of her body but roped as well, Catherine was helpless as he
dragged the breeches from her body, and with a cold feeling of fear she saw the
little silver knife fall to the ground as he tossed the clothes in a heap in
the corner. Grimly, she hung onto the thought that thankfully the knife had
fallen beneath the breeches, and if he didn't notice it, there was a chance she
could hide it again.

But
that would be later, and this was hideously now, and she fought any way she
could,
twisting
away, kicking at his body, and when
that failed locking her legs together tightly. Defenseless and having no way of
protecting herself, she suffered his touch, her skin crawling with revulsion
as his hands explored her body. But when he was unwise enough to try to kiss
her, her teeth sunk deeply into his bottom lip, and she hung on viciously until
a powerful, painful crack at the side of her head made her release his mangled
lip. But nothing could stop him, her desperate fight seeming to inflame him
even more, until finally exhausted and barely conscious she was powerless to
prevent him from joining his body with hers.

Spasm
after spasm of sheer murderous rage shook her body as he moved on her, and
venomously she hissed, "Finish, damn you! Finish, so I may vomit! You
sicken me!" Then at last it was over, the pain between her legs ceasing,
and he rolled away from her.

Smiling
with satisfaction, Davalos straightened his clothes and still breathing heavily
said thickly, "Jason is to be congratulated on his good taste. But a few
months of my tutelage and you will be truly without peer. Your husband should
thank me for teaching you all that I intend to." He paused, a calculating
spark leaping into his eyes as they moved over her body. "If I don't kill
him, it would best please me if you were to bear my child. It would be worth
letting Jason live to foster a bastard on him. His blasted pride is such that he
would never recover from the blow."

Kneeling
suddenly beside her, his eyes devoured the alabaster body, now dirt-stained and
showing the bruises of his brutality, and Catherine prayed that he would not
take her again. They stayed thus, his hands running over her shrinking flesh,
and she knew from the flame that was growing in his eyes that he was becoming
aroused again. Terror-stricken she fastened her gaze on the ceiling, as if by
staring at the beams she could divorce her mind from what was happening to her
body, but the sounds from the other room disrupted him and made him frown and
look in that direction. He rose swiftly and unexpectedly released her bound
hands.

Like
a wide-clawed cat that seeks freedom, she sprang for his face, but prepared for
such a move, he avoided her lunge and with a vicious backhanded lash that connected
with her chin, nearly broke her neck. She was flung across the room and landed
on the floor near her breeches, the linen shirt she still wore barely covering
her nakedness. Coldly he said, "I will leave you to dress. If you are not
clothed when I return, I shall assume you enjoyed my lovemaking and shall give
you another lesson in the joys you can find in my embrace. And if you resist
me, I shall let the others have you to teach you that it is unwise to disobey
me!"

Catherine
grabbed her breeches and keeping the knife hidden scrambled to the far corner
as he opened the door and walked out. She was dressed in seconds, and more
importantly the knife was hidden once more. Bitterly she wished for the
strength of will and courage to bury the knife deep in her own breast. But that
was the coward's way out, she told herself grimly and cursed the lost chance
she had had to sink the blade to the hilt in Davalos's retreating back. Common
sense told her she would gain little with his death, for without Davalos to
control
them,
she would be at the mercy of the
soldiers. Still, even knowing that, the urge to kill him was almost
overpowering.

When
he returned, he methodically tied her hands again, and with his warning clear
in her mind, she didn't offer any fight, although when his mouth sought hers
and his hands roamed familiarly over her, she almost wasn't able to control the
frantic desire to leap away from his sordid touch. But apparently he had no
intention of forcing her to submit to his demands again tonight, for he tossed
her a blanket and said, "You will sleep here undisturbed." Catherine
glanced at him sharply, and he smiled nastily. "Ob, I haven't tired of
you—yet. But there are grumblings among the men, and if I don't want to share
you I shall have to deny myself until we are more private. Waiting will only
increase my appetite, and when we reach Nacogdoches I intend to take my fill
of you—then perhaps I will give you to the men!"

Balefully,
Catherine glared at him, and the undisguised hatred that burned in her eyes
made him slightly uneasy. Threateningly he stated, "Don't try to escape!
Remember that I have guards patrolling the outside, and if they capture you
I'm quite certain before they would return you, they too would know you rather
intimately."

He
waited for her comment, and when she didn't say a word, he looked at her in
suspicion. Catherine quickly dropped her eyes, hiding the loathing she felt.
And after a moment, he gave a swift, encompassing glance around the room, and
seeing no way she could free herself except out the window, he left, deciding
it would be wise to have a guard posted at that particular spot.