Untamed Fire (34 page)

“If you keep that up, I’ll have you here and
now,” he warned with a labored breath.

She suckled harder.

His free hand found its way to her throat
and he pressed lightly against its center. “I’ll take you here, up
against this wall, and I won’t be gentle.”

She bit his finger.

He pulled it from her mouth, cursed, and in
minutes had her up against the wall, straddling him. He rammed into
her with a driving need.

She gasped and sighed at the same time, then
wrapped her legs around him tightly. Her hands grasped his face and
her lips attacked his.

Their union was fast and furious, exploding
in a blinding release that neither wanted to end.

Gaby buried her face in the crook of
Rafael’s neck.

His hands cupped her buttock and her legs
remained limply locked around him. His legs were firm and steady,
and he continued to hold her. She felt too good to let her go.

“Are you all right?” he whispered near her
ear.

His breath tickled and she shivered. It
caused Rafael to do the same.

“That feels good,” she murmured and rubbed
her face against his.

“Don’t do that,
querida
.”

“Why?” she asked lazily and did it again
only slowly.

“You’re playing with fire.”

“What fire?” she asked and bit at his bottom
lip as he had done so many times to her.

“The fire that has been burning inside me
for the last two days.”

“Didn’t we just put it out?”

“We only ignited it more.”

“Then you’ve missed me?” she asked, looking
up into his eyes.

“Yes, I’ve missed you,” he admitted and
shifted her weight against him.

She felt the change in him. “You want me
again?”

“Yes, I want you again. I can’t get enough
of you.”

“Like this?” she asked, wrapping her legs
more tightly around him.

“For a while like this,” he answered, moving
slowly inside her. “Then there,” he added his eyes directing hers
to the scattered blankets. “So I can take my time moving in and out
of you.”

She shivered from the sheer thought and
anticipation.

“You like what I do to you?”

“Yes, I like what you do to me.”

“You like me to tell you about it?”

“Yes, Rafael, I like when you tell me.”

His mouth moved near her ear and he
whispered. “Then let me tell you where I plan to taste.”

He tempted and teased her with words, then
stripped himself and her naked... and did to her exactly what he
had told her he would.

Rafael held her in his arms. He had covered
them with one of the old, but clean blankets that were kept in
storage there.

“I’m sorry,” Gaby said softly.

Rafael was puzzled. He had thought he
pleased her, for she had more than pleased him. “For what?”

“For being so stubborn.”

He hugged her. “You are stubborn, but if you
start apologizing now, I’m afraid you’ll be forever
apologizing.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ll always be stubborn.”

She poked him in the ribs.

“Ow,” he complained with a laugh. “I love
your stubbornness. It is what makes you so interesting and
exciting.”

“Go on,” she encouraged, wanting to hear
more, especially the part about love. Was he going to tell her?
Could he truly, possibly love her?

“I love your smile, your quick wit, and most
of all, I love the way you dance.”

She poked him in the ribs again.

“Ow, what did I say now?”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing,” she
sighed.

He laughed and hugged her tighter. He knew
what she wanted to hear, what he wanted to tell her. And when the
time was right he would. He would tell her how he could never live
without her. That she was his life, his love. That he never loved
anyone the way he loved her. Yes, he would say all those things and
more.

Gaby sighed silently. He would tell her one
day that he loved her. She was certain of it; she could feel his
love. She would wait; he would tell her.

“You will speak with Galvezes?” he asked her
quietly.

“Yes, I will speak with them, but—”

“How did I know you were going to say
that?”

“You are familiar with my stubbornness.”

“Among other things,” he added.

“I’m being serious,” she scolded.

“I don’t want to be.”

Gaby sat up abruptly, mindless of the
blanket falling away and baring her full breasts. “You don’t want
to be serious?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes, that’s what I said. I’m sure I said
it.”

She leaned over him and kissed him
soundly.

“What was that for? Not that I don’t like
it, mind you. I do, but why?”

“You’re changing,” she said with a
smile.

“Changing?”

“You’re always serious. You rarely laugh, or
joke, or tease, but now you do. You’re beginning to live life.”

Rafael looked at her strangely. She was
right. He felt different, good, happy, and he owed it all to her.
He returned her smile and wiggled his fingers at her. “Good, then I
can tickle you?”

Gaby squirmed until she lay beneath him
laughing, begging him to stop. He did, then he kissed her with such
tenderness that she felt like crying.

“So what is this ‘but’?” he asked.

Gaby wrinkled her brow.

“The Galvezes. You speaking to them.” he
reminded.

“Oh,” she said finally recalling. “I’ll
speak with them as long as I am not made to wear those horrible
clothes. I wish to wear my own.”

“I agree.”

“You do?”

“Yes, as long as you allow me to have some
new and colorful skirts and blouses sewn for you.”

Lupe’s warning about her pride tolled like a
bell in her mind. She swallowed some of that pride before
answering. “Agreed.”

“We better go before someone searches for
us,” Rafael said.

“Must we? It is so peaceful and pleasant
here.”

“In this shed?”

“No, alone with you.”

He kissed her tenderly. “Will you come to my
room tonight? It is a request not a summons.”

Gaby burst with a radiant smile. She threw
her arms around his neck. “Yes, Raphael, I will come to your room
tonight, but—”

“Another, but,” he teased, not letting her
finish.

“But only if I can... “ She pulled him down
to whisper in his ear all the things she wanted to do to him.

“You will enjoy Spain,” Dona Isabel said as
she and Gaby rode at a slow pace toward the hacienda. “It is so
entertaining, the men so gallant, the ladies so gracious not
like—”

“I find the people of Los Angeles
caring,
giving,
and, above all,
honorable
,”
Gaby said with a deliberate emphasis on the three traits the padres
had taught her were the most important qualities a person could
learn.

Dona Isabel spoke in a guarded tone. “I’m
sure the people of Los Angeles have wonderful virtues, but this is
an uncivilized land. Spain is not.”

“It depends on what you consider civilized,”
Gaby said, patting her horse’s neck and assuring him they would be
home soon, the heat of the morning’s sun beginning to wear on the
both of them.

“Dress, manners, proper behavior for a young
lady, to name a few,” Dona Isabel said as she pushed the damp wisps
of hair off her perspiring forehead.

Gaby could only imagine how unbearably
uncomfortable the woman must be in the dark heavy riding outfit.
But then, dress and manners were important to her. And at the
moment Gaby wasn’t really feeling up to arguing with her about such
ridiculous matters.

So when she answered her it was with a
smile, and if Rafael had heard her response he probably would have
been shocked. “I’m sure you will teach me all the things I need to
know.”

Dona Isabel’s eyes looked as though they
were about to pop from her head. “Yes, yes, of course. After all,
that is a mother’s duty to her daughter.”

Gaby couldn’t bring herself to respond or
look at the woman. She still could not believe that the
self-centered woman riding alongside her could possibly be her
mother. They had nothing in common, shared none of the same
interests, and didn’t even resemble one another. That fact greatly
disturbed Gaby. A daughter usually looked somewhat like her
mother.

“This afternoon we shall discuss proper
dress. I cannot abide those horrible peasant clothes you insist on
wearing. And your hair, something must be done with it. That long
braid just isn’t fitting.”

Gaby didn’t argue. Her stomach was
protesting and Rafael had promised to speak with Dona Isabel
regarding the clothes she wore. She would tell him upon their
return and let him handle the matter.

“Do you feel all right, Gaby? You look
pale,” Dona Isabel asked.

“It is hotter than usual today and I’m a bit
tired,” Gaby answered, not wanting anyone to know of the child she
carried.

“This heat is horrible, and I could use a
nap myself. Perhaps if we move our mounts along a little faster,”
Dona Isabel suggested.

Gaby readily agreed. She had been traveling
at a slow, monotonous pace to appease the woman’s sense of
propriety. She was glad the heat had forced a change in her
opinion.

Gaby picked up the canter. Dona Isabel
followed with ease. She actually began to pass Gaby, so Gaby
followed. Both women and their escorts were traveling at a fairly
good gallop as they approached the corrals.

Gaby pulled slightly ahead, wanting to
dismount as quickly as possible since her stomach grew worse with
each bounce. She was just about to slow her pace before entering
the corral area when she felt her saddle slip beneath her.

All her muscles tightened in alarm as she
suddenly found herself and saddle slipping off the horse. She flung
her arms around her stomach offering the only protection she could
think of to her unborn child and hit the hard ground with a solid
thud.

She heard yelling and a high-pitched squeal.
She was quickly surrounded by numerous vaqueros, all demanding to
know if she was all right.

Gaby found it difficult to speak at first.
Her breath seemed caught in her throat and her body felt numb.

“Take her to her room.”

“Get Lupe.”

“Be careful when you lift her.”

The voices drifted around her, but she
wasn’t able to distinguish them. Her only protest when she was
lifted was a slight moan. It was followed by a quick reprimand to
be careful.

“Put her on the bed.”

That was Lupe’s voice. Gaby felt safe
now.

“Go,” Lupe said, chasing the vaqueros with a
wave of her hands.

“Will she be all right?”

Gaby recognized the voice. It was
Sanchez.

“Yes, she’ll be fine. Some rest, some
ointment, she’ll be fine,” Lupe said confidently, then crossed
herself for extra assurance.

“Lupe,” Gaby’s voice sounded strange to her
own ears.

“Don’t try to speak just yet,” Lupe ordered.
“Rest and let me take a look at you. Tell me if anything hurts when
I touch it.”

Gaby felt no pain as Lupe examined every
inch of her, but when she attempted to press her stomach, Gaby
prevented her with a gentle touch to her hand.

Gaby’s frightened expression told Lupe
everything, and she shut her eyes and shook her head. “Does he
know?”

“No.”

“You should tell him.”

“When the time is right,” Gaby said.

“Do you have any pain here?” Lupe asked,
pressing gently on her belly.

“None,” Gaby answered.

“You must stay off your feet,” Lupe insisted
as she reached for the wet cloth and began to bathe the scrapes on
her arms and legs.

“The baby?” Gaby asked, almost fearing the
answer.

“The baby is fine. He is well protected
inside you. But you must rest for when you rest he rests.”

Gaby began to cry. “I was so afraid. So
afraid I would lose Rafael’s child. I don’t want to lose his baby.
I want his baby more than anything.”

“Lupe, leave!”

Lupe jumped at the sound of Rafael’s stern
command. She turned. He stood in the doorway. His eyes were ablaze
with controlled fury and his hand that held the door was white from
his forceful grip. He had overheard.

“Leave!” he ordered once again and with more
force than Lupe had ever heard him issue.

With a quick nod of assurance to Gaby, Lupe
hastily left the room.

Rafael closed the door behind her and locked
it before he walked over to the bed.

Gaby tried to sit up, feeling totally at his
mercy lying flat on her back. His harsh command stilled her.

“Don’t you dare move.”

She did as he said.

He stood looking down at her once he reached
the side of the bed. She couldn’t tell by his expression how or
what he felt. She didn’t know if it was anger, pain, or sorrow, she
only knew it overwhelmed him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you carried my
child?”

“I would have told you when the time was
right.”

“And when would that be, after you
left?”

“No, I would have told you... the time just
wasn’t right.” Her voice sounded weak and unsure, even to her own
ears, her quivering tone irritating her as did the tears that began
to fall.

“I had the right to know immediately.”

“You have no right,” she yelled and sat
up.

“I have every right,” he said, grabbing her
by the shoulders.

“You have no rights, no rights,” she cried,
angry that she could not stop the tears.

“I have every right,” he demanded. “I’m the
father. Why didn’t you tell me?”

She did not respond.

“Why?” he asked the demand in his voice
gone.

Her breath came in short gasps as her crying
subsided. Her dark lashes shined like wet spikes and she stared at
him for a moment before answering.

With a soft, gentle whisper she said, “I
want your love, not your pity.”