Untamed Fire (37 page)

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Authors: Donna Fletcher

Tags: #western historical romance, #alpha hero, #spirited heroine

BOOK: Untamed Fire
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“What?” His reply was sharp and stern, and
all heads at the table instantly turned to him.

Gaby rarely felt embarrassed, but this was
one of those rare moments. “I was wondering if Rosalita and I could
go into Los Angeles tomorrow. I’d like her to meet Padre Jose, and
see the mission and the town.”

His stare shifted to her face. “I will make
the arrangements for you to go.”

“Thank you,” she said with a smile, but his
frown remained, and it was fixed hard upon her.

“I thought we’d spend some time together
tomorrow, just the three of us,” Isabel said disappointedly.

“We can spend time with you in the
afternoon,” Rosalita suggested then quickly added, “if it is all
right for us to go to town in the morning, Don Rafael?”

Rafael looked across to his right at the
girl and produced a disarming smile. “Please, call me Rafael. The
morning will be fine.” His frown immediately returned when he
turned his attention to Gaby.

“Let’s see, what shall we do together—I
know, lets’ go riding,’ Isabel said joyously.

Both girls nodded their consent.

“Good, now that that is all arranged, can we
please speak about our return to Spain?” Felipe said.

“Felipe, dear,” Isabel cooed. “Rosalita
looks so tired, and it has been a long day. Perhaps tomorrow would
prove more beneficial for all concerned.

“I see your point,” Felipe conceded, “but
can we at least determine which twin is which and begin calling
them by their given names?”

“The girls are accustomed to the names they
have used all these years. I think it will be difficult for
them—”

“I don’t care how difficult it is, “Felipe
yelled, cutting off his wife’s logical suggestion and pounding the
table with his fist. “I will hear them called by the names we gave
them.”

Isabel bowed her head and stared at the
table, but Gaby caught the blaze of anger in her eyes.

“Then let me introduce each twin,” Rafael
said, standing. “Don Felipe, your daughter and my future wife,
Annabelle.” He waved his hand in front of Gaby and a chill ran up
her spine.

Felipe smiled and nodded, assuming Rafael
had discovered the little secret that would determine the
difference between the girls.

“And your other daughter, Calida,” he added
with a wave of his other hand.

“Annabelle. Calida.” Felipe said politely.
“It is a pleasure to meet both of you after these many years.”

Both women appeased the man with smiles.

“Now if you all will excuse me. I find
myself exhausted after my journey,” Rosalita explained and
stood.

“Of course, my dear,” Dona Maria
sympathized. “Let me show you to your room and make certain all is
ready for you.”

Isabel followed with a complaint of a
horrible headache after such a strenuous day.

Gaby was about to make her own excuse when
Felipe insisted that this would be the perfect opportunity for
Rafael and him to discuss the wedding arrangements.

Gaby was relieved she would be able to
retire to her room since she felt the weariness of the day descend
upon her. But her relief was short-lived when Rafael stood and
walked behind her chair to assist her up.

“My room at midnight,” he ordered sternly as
she stood next to him.

Gaby stiffened, but retained her smile as
she walked from the room.

~~~

Rafael saw her as soon as he entered the
room. He hadn’t expected her to be there. And he had never expected
her to be sitting in the middle of his bed naked. The blanket
covered her to her waist and her long dark hair veiled her full
breasts.

He stood staring at her. Then he began to
undress. He did so slowly, and she never took her eyes off him. He
walked to the bed and reached out, touching her face lightly.

“You’re angry with me,” she whispered.

“I’m going to rip that damn blouse to
pieces.”

“You didn’t like it?” she asked with pretend
innocence.

He grinned and slipped his hand to the back
of her head grabbing a handful of her hair. “You little devil, you
know I didn’t like it and you know why.”

“It caused you discomfort?” she asked
sweetly.

He pulled her head back slowly, exposing her
slim neck to his hungry mouth. “It caused me
too
much
discomfort.”

“Such a pity, since it is my favorite blouse
and I know I will wear it often.”

He lowered his mouth to her neck. “Are you
prepared to suffer the consequences each and every time that you
do?” The tip of his tongue touched her neck before his lips did. He
savored the taste of her marking his path, then followed back up
with playful nips.

She shivered.

He traveled to her mouth, claiming it with a
staunch demand. His kiss was full of strength and raw power. He
urged her mouth to press harder against him, to taste more of
him.

He pulled away with a sudden jerk. “I can’t
get enough of you,” he protested with an animal-like growl.

“Then taste more of me,” she urged.

He shook his head angrily. “You don’t
understand. I want you badly.”

“Then take me,” she said, pulling her head
free of his grasp, lying back upon the bed and tossing the covers
off herself in a wanton invitation.

Rafael stared at her naked body spread
before him. “You don’t know what you ask; my need for you is so
great. I may hurt you—and the baby.”

“You could never hurt me, Rafael,” she
whispered and held her arms out to him.

He went to her, grasping her wrists in each
hand and pushing them above her head as his mouth found and feasted
upon each hard nipple. The solid orb tasted good against his
tongue, and he played with it until Gaby squirmed unmercifully
beneath him.

He moved both wrists to his one hand so the
other would be free.

“I want to touch you, Rafael,” she
pleaded.

His fingers ran teasingly along her side,
down her thigh, to between her legs. “No, tonight you are my
prisoner.”

Gaby moaned as his fingers inched their way
inside her.

“I told you I wanted you badly,” he warned,
stroking her with a master’s touch.

“Then take me,” she urged.

“No, I want you hot, wet... and
panting.”

“That’s not fair.”

Rafael smiled and kissed her lightly on the
lips. “Tonight,
querida
, I’m not going to play fair.”

Gaby was soon lost. His touch and mouth
consumed her. His words titillated her.

Rafael was well past his control when he
entered her. He was deep inside her and yet he wanted to go deeper,
so much deeper.

She held on to him, tightened herself around
him, and together they exploded in a blinding release.

Their control took time to return. Each
clung to one another, unwilling to separate and break the intimate
bond that molded them together as one.

It was Rafael who spoke first, his breathing
heavily labored. “Did I hurt you?”

Gaby squeezed him between his legs before
she responded. “No, you made me feel good, very good.”

Rafael lowered his brow to hers. “Then
you’re saying that I am a good lover?”

She kissed him quickly. “You have the
prowess of a stallion.”

He raised his head and looked at her,
bewildered.

“I’ve seen a stallion mount a mare. He is
beautiful and full of power when he does.”

Rafael smiled and kissed her. “I love you.
Never change.”

He slipped off her and cradled her beside
him.

They were silent for a while, each lost in
their own thoughts and dreams.

“Rafael,” Gaby murmured.

“Mmmm,” he answered, stroking her
buttocks.

“You don’t want me to learn to be more like
your mother or Dona Isabel?”

“Good heavens no!”

“But they are well-mannered and dress
properly. You are a rich ranchero who—”

“Should have a beautiful wife by his side,
which I will have,” he finished.

“You really love me the way I am?”

“Every part, every opinion, every strange
idea, every disobedient act—you make life worth living,
querida
.”

“I’m glad you love me so much, for I love
you even more,” she said, snuggling against him.

Rafael nibbled at her ear. “If you don’t
stop that, I’m going to demonstrate first-hand how a stallion
mounts a mare,” he warned.

Gaby remained still for a moment, then
wiggled harder against him.

Rafael laughed, kissed her soundly, and then
flipped her over.

Chapter
Twenty-eight

The sun was hot and the people friendly.
Rosalita was accepted with open arms into the Alvardo household.
Gaby’s brothers and sisters fussed over her and made her feel like
one of the family.

The women walked through town talking with
friends of Gaby’s. The information they learned came in dribs and
drabs; a word here, a short conversation there.

Walking to the mission to visit Padre Jose,
the women combined the information they had learned.

“Let’s see,” Rosalita said, trying to fit
the pieces together. “Los Angeles was a poor village around the
time we supposedly were left at the mission. Then suddenly things
began improving. The padres were able to help the people, more
crops were planted, vineyards begun, material became
plentiful.”

“Which means someone was supporting the
mission with heavy contributions,” Gaby added.

“But why?”

Gaby stopped. “In return for the twins’
protection.”

Rosalita stared at her. “Protection not
harm.”

“Then the kidnapping was to protect the
babies, not harm them as Rafael had mentioned. The twins were left
with orders that they were to be looked after, and it appears the
padres were paid handsomely to do just that.”

“It does appear that way. But who would want
to harm them?”

Rosalita grabbed Gaby’s arm. “And does that
person still mean them harm?”

“That is one question I think we need to
find the answer to
pronto
.”

“Padre Pablo.” Both women echoed in
unison.

They entered the mission intent on hurrying
their visit along with Padre Jose so they could return to the ranch
and talk with Padre Pablo.

Padre Jose was pleased to see them and
talked about how wonderful it was they were finally reunited.

“Padre, do you know anything of that day we
were left here at the mission?” Gaby asked.

Padre Jose didn’t care for that determined
glint in her eyes. “Only the few things the padres had told
me.”

“Which were?” Rosalita urged.

“That two baby girls were found cuddled
together in a large basket.”

“Nothing more?” Gaby questioned.

“No, nothing,” the padre insisted.

“And afterwards how did the babies fare?”
Rosalita asked.

“Well, the one took ill and...” The padre
allowed his words to trail off as though he shouldn’t have spoken
thusly.

“And what?” Gaby asked.

“I-I-I— You’ll have to talk with Padre Pablo
about that,” he said, fearing he had already said too much.

“An excellent suggestion, Padre,” Rosalita
said with a smile.

“Thank you, you’ve been most helpful,” Gaby
said and bid the nervous priest a quick good-bye.

The return ride seemed endless, although the
women used the time to discuss what they had learned. What puzzled
them the most was who would want the babies dead; someone who would
benefit from their death or someone who hated them? And why would
someone hate month-old babies enough to kill them?

The women found the padre sitting alone in
the small chapel Don Rafael had erected for his wife many years
ago. It sat not far from the main house, yet its setting was one of
peace and solitude. A gentle place where one could reflect and pray
without disturbance.

It was plain inside as well as out. A small
altar with a heavy wooden cross hung over it while a white linen
cloth graced the top where several candles flickered in their glass
holders.

Several wooden pews formed two rows down the
sides, leaving an aisle wide enough for only one to walk up. The
padre sat in the first pew on the left.

They entered in respectful silence, not
wishing to disturb his prayers, and walked to the front, Gaby in
the lead. He finally raised his head and when his eyes caught those
of Gaby’s, he smiled.

“You both have grown into beautiful young
ladies,” he said, motioning for them to come forward.

“It is good to see you again, Padre Pablo,”
Gaby said sincerely.

“I have missed you, my child. You have a way
of brightening one’s day,” he said with a cheery smile.

“And you, Rosalita? All goes well with you
and—”

“All goes well, Padre,” she answered without
allowing him to finish.

“I am glad you two are finally together,” he
said.

“Yes, Padre,” Gaby agreed. “And now is the
time to tell us which one of us is the Galvez twin that survived.”
She prayed her instincts were right and that finally she and
Rosalita would learn the truth.

Padre Pablo grew as red as the thin hot
peppers that grew on the bushy plants. His breathing grew labored
as though he had taken a bite from the hardy vegetable that often
brought tears to a man’s eyes after just one taste.

The old priest hung his head in defeat. “I
suppose it is finally time for the truth.”

“I think it only fair to us,” Rosalita said
with understanding.

“You’re right, my child,” the padre nodded.
“And I fear for both your safety.”

The women listened, their hands grasped
tightly to each other for support. The priest told them the whole
story finishing with the fact that Gaby was not one of the
twins.

Both women experienced a sense of loss, as
though in finding themselves they had lost each other. They
squeezed each other’s hands in reassurance that the bond they had
formed could not be broken. They wouldn’t allow it to be.

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