Untamed Fire (12 page)

“I will handle this, and if another incident
should occur, you are to tell me of it immediately.”

“
Si
,” she said, holding his blue eyes
with hers.

“You will tell me,
querida
, won’t
you?” he asked softly, running his hand down along her waist to her
thigh.

She winced and pulled back when his hand
connected with the wound.

“Show me it,” he demanded.

“I cannot.”

His hand slipped down over her skirt then up
and under it. “Show me it.”

She stilled his hand with hers. “It isn’t
proper for—”

“Show me,” he demanded.

He was so insistent that Gaby felt it best
to obey. She feared what he might do if she denied his command. She
pulled her skirt up exposing her firm thigh and the sore
abrasion.

Rafael’s brow drew together in a frown. His
fingers slid across the tender area, touching yet not touching,
following where it dipped down the side near the junction of her
legs. He stroked it over and over with the pad of his thumb while
his fingers lay cradled between her thighs.

Gaby felt her skin tingle, and wetness edged
the area not far from where his fingers lay.

He looked at her and watched as he moved his
thumb slowly, tenderly inching closer. Her eyes fluttered, her skin
felt hot, and he was certain if he moved just an inch more he could
slip into her and she’d be moist and ready.

“You will come to me, Gaby?” he
whispered

“Yes,” she said. “Yes.”

They both knew it was not the senseless
pranks he spoke of, and they both knew she would come to him...
eventually.

~~~

Gaby busied herself in the days that
followed. She intended to keep her date with Sanchez no matter how
many chores Rafael threw her way. She worked hard not only doing
the light duties for Dona Maia, but handling the chores of
scrubbing, polishing, and waxing. She was tired, but she was on
schedule, and she planned to stay that way.

The Saturday of the mission dance dawned
bright and sunny. All the workers were in a festive mood, for this
was their dance. Gaby was caught up in the eager anticipation. She
hurried to get her duties completed so she could wash her hair and
let it dry before Sanchez came for her.

Rafael found her sitting on the adobe wall
near the well. Her long black hair glistened with each stroke of
her comb. Her feet were bare and looking freshly scrubbed. She
appeared free, happy and... beautiful.

“Gaby,” he called and she jumped. He walked
to where she sat. He stood straight with a rigidness that bordered
on a touch of arrogance. “Have you finished polishing the
silver?”

She smiled, having waited for this moment.
“
Si
, Don Rafael, all of it.”

“You have beaten all the rugs clean?”

“Like they have never been beaten
before.”

“Scrubbed the tiles?”

“Till they shined.”

“Polished the furniture?”

“Till it sparkled.”

“Washed the serving linens?”

She laughed and threw her hands to the
heavens. “White as the clouds.”

“Seen to Mother’s care?”

“Resting in her room with a stack of books
for evening reading.”

“Taken care of the mending?”

Gaby stood, nodded her head, and dazzled him
with a smile that made his heart thump like a jumping rabbit.

“I have done all you’ve asked of me. Now I
will go to the dance with Sanchez.”

Her words stated clearly her intentions, and
perhaps Rafael could have curbed his jealousy, perhaps he could
have allowed her one night of freedom, perhaps... if she hadn’t
swayed her hips.

“Dancing is wonderful.” Gaby swayed her
hips. “It ignites a fever in the blood, and one must dance to
quench oneself of the burning pleasure.” Then she began to hum a
lively tune and with her hands braced on her hips, she danced
around Rafael. Her steps were skillful as she brushed closer and
closer with each swaying step. Her generous breasts just missed his
arms and her skirt tickled his pant legs.

“Can’t you feel it?” she asked in a husky
whisper, then continued humming as she twirled teasingly around
him.

Rafael stood silent. He could feel what she
meant and see it. Her breathing grew rapid, her face flushed with
heat. He knew if he reached out and touched her she would be hot
and pulsating. She was right. Music had a way of stirring the
blood, igniting it to a feverish pitch until...

Jealousy reared its ugly head. The intense
emotion flared Rafael’s nostrils and caused him to tense every
muscle in his body until they burned with the strain. He closed his
eyes, clenched his teeth, and tightened his hands into fists at his
sides.

Gaby stilled immediately. She stepped back,
fearing she had pushed him too far.

Rafael opened his eyes, released his
clenched fists and spoke calmly. “Have you cleaned my study?”

If it were not for the scorching anger in
his blue eyes, Gaby would have thought him in control of his
emotions. But he wasn’t. He teetered dangerously on the edge, and
she spoke with caution, fearing her evening of freedom slipping
away. “I am not permitted in your study.”

“You are permitted now. I wish it
cleaned.”

“I will clean it first thing tomorrow.”

“I want it done now.”

“I will rise extra early and clean it,” she
offered with a hopeful smile.

He did not return her pleasantry. “I want it
finished tonight.”

“But it will take me all evening. I was
supposed to attend—”

He didn’t allow her to finish. “If your
chores were complete. They are not.”

Gaby’s tone was harsh. “You don’t want me
going to the dance with Sanchez.”

Rafael stepped forward and grabbed her
wrists, locking them tightly in his hands. “That’s right; I don’t
want you going with Sanchez. That’s why you will spend the evening
cleaning my study.”

She attempted to pull her hands free. “I
must tell Sanchez that I cannot go with him.”

He released her and pushed her toward the
house. “I will tell him. Tend to your duties.”

“
Si
, Don Rafael,” she spat. “After
all, I am your prisoner.”

Rafael watched her walk away and whispered,
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,
querida
, I wouldn’t be
too sure.”

Gaby’s anger abated shortly after she began
to clean the study. While her hands were busy dusting the many
books on the shelves, her mind was busy sorting her feelings. She
had wanted to go to the mission dance. She had wanted to dance. She
loved music and the way her senses came alive when her body began
to sway to the various rhythms. The gay, festive tunes made her
feel happy and carefree, the slower tunes made her mellow and
relaxed, but it was the heated tunes she enjoyed the most. They
caused her blood to race and her body to move as if by magic.

She had expected to have a good time with
Sanchez. He seemed a gentleman, and the women at the hacienda had
remarked about his keen dancing abilities. She had looked forward
to the evening. She had told herself that over and over. But a tiny
thought nagged at the corner of her mind. It wasn’t Sanchez she
wanted to dance with or for... it was Rafael.

She could almost see his tall form outfitted
in his black short-waisted jacket and tight-fitting pants, a white
shirt opened at his throat, and a wide black sash wrapped around
his waist. As usual his black stubborn curl would tickle his
forehead and his blue eyes would be warm and focused on her. After
they danced, his blue eyes would be ablaze, not with anger... with
passion.

Gaby shivered over her vivid daydreaming.
“You have work to do, girl,” she admonished herself. “Get
busy.”

She moved to a lower shelf that looked as
though it hadn’t been dusted in years. She removed the heavy
volumes, coughing and sneezing from the dust particles that floated
up and around her. She reached for another book when an unexpected
sneeze overtook her. She dropped it in a rush to cover her
nose.

Envelopes and papers were spread at her feet
when she looked down. She gathered them together, preparing to
return them to the confines of the book when her eyes caught sight
of one envelope. It was addressed to Rafael and was from someone in
Spain.

Gaby glanced around the room. No one was
about. The hacienda was quiet, most having gone to the dance. She
was alone. Rafael was probably brooding in his room, and the
thought made her smile and gave her courage. She opened the one
envelope curious as to why he would tuck the letters away in a book
or had he forgotten they was there?

She didn’t know how long she had sat there
reading all the letters. She only knew her heart broke with each
word she read.

~~~

Calm had returned to Rafael. He had appeased
it with three glasses of fine old wine and the satisfying thought
that Gaby would not be dancing with Sanchez this evening.

He had given her several hours to accept his
decision and for her anger to wane. He reasoned it was sufficient
time and that she should be happy that he had even conceded her
this. He wanted to make certain she was now tending to her chore,
doing as he ordered, obeying him.

Rafael stood in the doorway of his study.
Several candle lamps were lit, their flickering lights brightening
the room. He looked about, but saw no sign of Gaby. The first
thought that flashed through his mind was that she had disobeyed
him and had gone to the dance. Then he caught sight of the top of
her dark hair and felt a surge of relief.

He walked slowly over to his desk, peering
over it to where she sat huddled in the corner. He was about to
speak when his eyes locked with the letters she held in her hands;
old letters, personal letters, letters that no one had read but
him. His anger flared, for suddenly he saw himself vulnerable in
her eyes, and the raw emotion cut deep.

“Put them away.”

Startled by the low yet strong command, Gaby
snapped her head up.

Rafael clenched his fists at his sides,
spying the pity he saw in her dark eyes. “There is nothing of value
to steal in this room, but I see your search has been
thorough.”

His words did not wound her this time. Her
heart was open and ached for him and what he had suffered. “I did
not—”

He cut her off. “Mean to steal? To intrude?
Which is it?”

She shook her head and warred with the tears
that her lashes held back. “Neither, I only meant to
understand.”

“Understand what?” he demanded, walking
around the desk to stand in front of her.

“To understand you.”

“Me?”

Gaby nodded. “You have puzzled me.”

“And you wish to solve the puzzle?”

“Yes.”

“And have you?” he asked, crossing his arms
over his chest.

She closed her eyes in an attempt to control
the tears, but they would not stay locked away. They trickled out
with one running down along her cheek before the others could catch
up with it.

The fine line of control to which Rafael
held rein snapped. “You had no right to read them, and you have no
right to pity me.”

She ignored his bitter tone. “I don’t pity
you. I understand why you feel you must protect those in your care.
Why you take your responsibilities so seriously, and why you find
life so hard to enjoy.”

“You don’t understand anything!” he
raved.

Gaby felt his pain and anger. It was bottled
up inside him, eating away at him. He needed to release it, to let
go, to be free. She wiped at the tears that had fallen and said a
silent prayer that she was about to do the right thing. “I don’t?
Then tell me, since you are the mighty ranchero who knows
everything.”

“Your tongue is sharp and should be
curbed.”

“It speaks the truth and offers help, but
you are too foolish to realize it.”

Her audaciousness was like a slap in the
face, and he lunged for her. His swiftness gave her no time to
move, and he grabbed her about the shoulders, hoisting her up off
the floor in one swift motion. He planted her in front of him his
grip remaining sturdy. “You forget your place, Gaby, and I grow
tired of it.”

She felt sorry for him, unable to face his
past, to openly speak of it and rid himself of the demons that
tormented him. And so she pushed when she wisely should have held
her tongue. “Place? Yes, I forget we all have a place. And duties,
we all have them. Tell me, did Anna stay in her place and attend to
her wifely duties?”

“Not another word, Gaby,” he warned.

“I want to know,” she demanded. “Tell me.
Tell me what happened to your wife and son.”

“No!”

“Are you afraid?”

His eyes glazed with fury. His fingers bit
into the soft flesh of her shoulders, but she remained silent,
waiting. Waiting for him to punish her, or release himself from his
hell.

Rafael let go of her, pushing her away from
him. She stumbled back, bracing herself against the bookshelf
behind her.

His voice was calm and in control when he
spoke. “You want to know,
querida
? I will tell you, and then
we will see if there is still pity in your eyes for me.”

He pulled the chair out from his desk and
turned it to face Gaby. He motioned for her to sit on the floor and
when she did he sat down in the chair.

“Anna was sent from Spain to marry me. My
father and her father had arranged the marriage. It was a good one,
her dowry large, her heritage spotless. She was a dutiful wife,
always obeying my commands, never questioning,” he emphasized.

Gaby couldn’t help but smile and it eased,
if only a little, Rafael’s apprehension.

“She gave me a beautiful son. We named him
Ramon, after my father. He was a wonderful baby. He smiled often,
rarely cried, and when I held him to me he would look at me with
such contentment that I almost cri—”