The Serenade: The Prince and the Siren [Daughters of the Empire 2] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (53 page)

If there had been anything left of her confidence, it dissolved in that instant. She was no longer on the stage with predictable players. As she saw the steam streaming from his nostrils, there was no doubt in her mind that the young bull was equal in fearlessness and savagery to his older counterparts.

What had she been thinking?
Those “small” horns were coming straight for her, attached to fifteen hundred pounds of muscle and hooves. Lowering his head, Diablo charged at her, running at full speed and snorting, his horns aimed for her body.

Get out of here NOW!
Her brain roared at the same time she knew she was at the point of no return. The speed with which the bull was covering the distance between them shocked her. Though the bulls had seemed fast from the stands, it was somehow even swifter when the horns were aimed at her heart.

Whatever his speed, it was clear that he could run much faster than she could. Her best chance—though still not impressive—was to face and divert the creature rather than turning her back on him
.

She called on all the discipline and focus known to her and lifted the cape then lowered it for the classic first pass. The bull collided with the cape, shooting waves of pink satin into the air. The crowd cheered, and she was still alive, so it appeared her execution had been satisfactory, if accidentally so.

Unexpectedly, the bull spun around so quickly and expertly that she was surprised when he came at her again from a forty-five-degree angle to his first lunge. Fortunately, despite her lack of positioning, he missed her body when he stormed through the pink cape, tossing his sharp horns.

In an instant, Nicolette experienced the unprecedented thrill of the matador. She knew the euphoria of the stage, but this was an altogether different and sensational experience. Facing a deadly foe—an animal that would surely kill her if given the opportunity—and holding her ground, not fainting or freezing, imparted in an instant a strong sense of her own power.

Attuned to the crowd as always, she heard the conspicuous sounds of approval coming from the stands. Trained to always face the audience, without thinking she involuntarily looked up for a brief second.

That was an unforgivable error in judgment.
And this venue was even less forgiving of a single mistake than her singing career, critics aside. In that split second, the bull, already close, spun around and raced straight for her. In another three seconds she would have been positioned for his advance, but life-and-death scenarios were often a matter of a few seconds, and she had come up short.

“
No! No! God, no!
” she heard Alejandro yell. She had not fully executed her movement when the bull collided with her cape. He tossed both the cape and her, and she flew into the air like a pillow from her childhood pillow fights.

Only her bones weren’t made of feathers. She hit the ground like a thunderbolt, shocked at the impact. But that was the least of her worries.

I am still in the arena with the bull.

Semiconscious, she heard shouts and commands and felt someone pulling her to the side of the ring almost from the instant she hit the ground. Someone else must have distracted the bull. Through the haze, she had a vague impression of total confusion, flying sand, men shouting and running, colors flashing everywhere, and—worst of all—snorting and pounding hooves, a sound she never hoped to hear again. She might have very well gotten her wish. Her muscles tensed, and she desperately tried to move, but nothing happened.

“Stay still!” she heard in a commanding voice as she was being pulled somewhere. Her head started to pound, and she closed her eyes as all these impressions began to fade.

“There is nothing left to prove to me,
mi vida
.
Live
, I beg you.
Please live
.”

Mi vida
.
My life
. She left her eyes closed, startled to hear these words from Alejandro’s lips, the unmistakable sound of his voice.

The king himself must have jumped into the ring and pulled her to the side of the arena. It was Alejandro’s hand tightly wrapped around her arm.

“I can no longer be in a world without you,
mi vida
.” There was an unknown quality to his tone, steely and resolute. In her last moments of consciousness she heard Alejandro’s voice again. “
Marry me
.”

Marry me
. The words reverberated in her mind.

Clearly his thoughts had not been intended for her to hear, and she knew that he would not feel the same when he was not so shaken, but his words nonetheless revealed that his feelings for her were deeper than she had imagined in her wildest dreams. Or possibly than he had even imagined himself.

“Open your eyes, Nicolette, open them!” he commanded, his voice frantic. “Stay with me, my love!”

She took pity on him and slowly opened her eyes through sheer force of will.

He placed both hands around her face, and she thought she had never seen him look so joyful, tears streaming down his cheeks as he covered her face with kisses.

She felt herself smiling as she drifted off to her own dreams.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Oh, if I only had the right,

I’d be the most watchful guardian

Of your dear life

—
Giuseppe Verdi,
La Traviata

“No, God, NO!”
Terror filled his being. It engulfed him. He felt himself swimming in it. This couldn’t be happening. “Please let her live,” he prayed as he jumped the fence amidst protests and ran to scoop her up and carry her from the bullring.

“Your Majesty!” He was unprotected, and those who raced to stop him he threw out of his path. Once he had reached her, he continued to run with her in his arms.

“Get the doctor! NOW!” Reaching the side of the ring, his heart racing, he barreled through the gate, which was being held open for him. Finally seated, he held her in his lap, oblivious to everything around him, only partially aware of the flying dust and the screams. Out of the corner of his eye, keeping his gaze fixed upon her closed eyes, he saw that the bull was being herded to the corral.

“Open your eyes, Nicolette, open them!” he commanded, frantic. Every breath she took rejuvenated and revitalized his body as if it were his breath. As he watched her, he suddenly knew that he loved her,
only her
. She must live.
She had to.

“
Marry me
,” he heard himself murmuring. “I can no longer be in a world without you.” It was all true. This was what he wanted, and he now knew it thoroughly and completely. He wanted to live his life with this woman more than he wanted anything in the world.
And I do not want to live without her
.

She would not awaken, and panic filled his entire being. Possibly she would be gone in a few minutes. Possibly these were the last moments they would spend together.

“Open your eyes, Nicolette, open them!” he pleaded.
Stay with me, my love
.

She opened her eyes and looked into his, and he was overcome with relief and with joy. He felt tears streaming down his cheeks. She closed her eyes again, but he somehow knew she would live.

Praise God
. Was he entitled to happiness? Was he entitled to joy? Was it too selfish? He could not answer those questions. But he desperately wanted them, and he desperately wanted
her
.

And he knew something else. In acknowledging his love, he was acknowledging himself. He was experiencing his own existence.

He did live
. His love for her had created his life.

Smiling down at her, he silently prayed, “Holy Mother, enable me to both share my life with this woman and rule Spain. I have only once before asked for the desire of my heart, which was denied. Now I am begging. Allow me this one thing.” He made the sign of the cross over Nicolette and kissed his fingers to his lips. “Change me. Make me whole,” he pleaded. “
Let me live
.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Oh, joy…

I never knew…

To love and to be loved!

Can I disdain this

for a life of sterile pleasure?

—
Giuseppe Verdi,
La Traviata

“Ohhhhhhh,” she moaned. “My head…it…
hurts
.” She awoke in the king’s private carriage, her head throbbing, with her only companion an unapproachable sovereign ruler. His eyes remained glued to her, his expression unreadable. She had no idea what he was thinking, but that was nothing new. No doubt he had come to his senses and completely forgotten his earlier words.
Or feared that she had heard them
.

He wasn’t exactly withdrawn as he watched her every move, but neither was he communicative.

That was fine. She had no desire for conversation, as every inch of her was pulsating with pain.

She was lying on one side of the royal carriage while Alejandro sat across from her. Her blouse had been loosened and the lace removed. She had no idea where her cameo was. And she did not care.

Her feet were propped and her boots removed. A cold rag rested on her forehead, and a light blanket covered her. She also noted that the entire carriage was lined in red velvet, a color she did not wish to see at this time.

“By some miracle you have escaped your ill-advised encounter with the bull with only a bruised body and a throbbing head,” Alejandro remarked, his face expressionless. “My doctor found no broken bones, and very little blood was lost.”

“Enough blood was lost.”

“The doctor says you will be fine.”

“I am so glad that the royal doctor is pleased with my condition. Would that I could change places with him.”

“Not likely, since he would not be so foolish as to behave as you have done.”

“Alejandro, can’t you give me a little more of that red wine?” She swallowed hard. “To dull the pain?”

“Some of the pain you are feeling is the result of that red wine,” Alejandro replied stiffly, clearly unsympathetic to her suffering. Possibly he even enjoyed it in his more demented moments. He would be a cruel, heartless sovereign ruler, she had no doubt.

“The doctor has assured me that there is nothing further I can give you.”

The callous, unfeeling doctor. She knew his type. He most certainly enjoyed her suffering as well, thinking it the just consequence of a wanton woman flaunting herself in public
.

Was that how Alejandro once put it? She closed her eyes. Honestly, it was she who had acted in a foolhardy manner and she who would naturally pay the price. Thank goodness she had not paid the ultimate price.

Still, she was certain she had not been given adequate medication for the pain. It was impossible to find good help these days, even in the royal circle.

“Nicolette, I will give you what you wish.” She opened her eyes again to see that Alejandro had not taken his eyes off her. Worry was written all over his face.

“Good.” She attempted to nod and thought the better of it. “Prop me up, and assist me in drinking it,” she managed to murmur, her head throbbing.

“Not wine. A night of passion,” he replied, his voice cold and steely, remarkably devoid of all passion.