Chapter Thirteen #3
Now Andreas was dead. Ramon was the head of the family, and if there was a peaceful way to regain their land, he meant to find it. He would deal with his wife’s objections when the time came.
He touched his spurs to the tall bay’s ribs and the stallion picked up its pace down the hill. He wished he was riding Rey del Sol, but the big palomino was too easy to spot, just like the magnificent black stallion ridden by El Dragón. At least the bay was well trained—Pedro had seen to that.
As he had been seeing after Ramon’s family and his woman.
His woman, he silently repeated. His wife.
His loins went hard just thinking about the evening ahead.
He could almost feel Carly’s lips clinging to his, taste the sweetness of desire on her breath.
In the eye of his mind, he saw her naked, the white silk gown pooled around her slender ankles, her ripe breasts quivering, the small pink tips rising up, stiff and proud against his hand.
The heat of his loins grew more fierce, blades of hot desire knifing through him.
There were a dozen ways he wanted to take her, a hundred soft places he wanted to kiss.
He knew she would be angry that he had left her, but perhaps there was a way he might explain.
Or perhaps just kissing her would be enough to let her know how much he missed her.
Ramon pulled his hat down low across his forehead, set his spurs to the stallion’s sides, and sent the animal into a gallop. It would be dark when he got home.
Ramon could hardly wait.
* * *
“He is coming! Ramon is coming!”
Carly’s heart started thudding, knocking against her ribs. She ran up beside Mother de la Guerra, who stood before the window, gazing out into the night.
“Where? I don’t see him.”
“There—” She pointed toward the place where the trail heading east crossed the stream at the side of the house.
“Can you not see? Even now he fords the creek.” It was the first time Carly had seen the senora so excited.
Mostly she sat rocking, or staring out the window.
Carly had come to pity her. At first she hadn’t realized how deeply the old woman grieved for her youngest son.
As always, the thought brought a pang of regret. Perhaps if she hadn’t rung the bell. Perhaps if Andreas hadn’t tried to steal her away.… But she had and he had and now he was dead.
Carly shoved the unpleasant memory aside. Fate had played its roll and what had happened was past. Even Ramon had set it away.
Ramon. She watched him riding toward her, straight and tall in the saddle, all easy grace and supple strength, he and the horse moving with an elegance she had never witnessed in another rider.
“He will be hungry.” Tia Teresa walked up beside her. “Why do you not see what Blue has left over from supper?”
Carly smiled. “Yes. Yes, I’ll do that right away.
” She raced out to the kitchen, gave orders to the ancient Indian woman to heat whatever she had left to feed Ramon, then ran back into the living room.
She wanted to greet him out in front, to tell him she was sorry that she had behaved as wickedly as she had, that tonight it would be different, but she didn’t know what he might be thinking.
And she wanted to appear the proper lady.
She thought she had learned to do that at Mrs. Stuart’s School for Fashionable Young Ladies, but there had been no lessons on what to do on one’s wedding night. Carly flushed a little to think of it, and just then Ramon walked in, his eyes swinging to hers the instant he entered the room.
He took off his hat and hung it on the rack beside the door, turned and hugged his mother.
He kissed her hand and then her cheek, a gesture of love and respect among his people, then hugged and kissed his aunt.
But his eyes drifted over their heads to where she stood beside the sofa, and there was a glow in the velvet brown depths.
“Buenas tardes, Caracita.” A hint of warmth she hadn’t expected tinged his voice.
“I have missed you these past few days.” Perhaps he had decided to forgive her embarrassing behavior.
Perhaps he was going to give her a second chance.
She thought of Miranda, felt a flicker of pain, wondered how Miranda had behaved in his bed, but forced the thought away.
He was her husband, not Miranda’s. He belonged here with her, and this time she would be the one to please him.
“It’s good to see you, Ramon.” She smiled at him, and a glimmer of heat slid into his gaze. “Are—are you hungry?”
Yes, his eyes said, but not for food. “Si. I have not eaten since this morning.”
She went outside to the kitchen, glad for the time to calm her pounding heart, then returned with a hot plate of cocido, a dish of beef and sausage, chiles, carrots, and beans, along with a bowl of pumpkin soup, hot tortillas, and a goblet of rich red wine.
“Will you join me?” he said, glancing up from the steaming plates of food. His eyes took in her simple brown dress, then returned to settle on her lips.
Carly wet them nervously. “No, I … we’ve already eaten.” She wished she’d had time to change into something pretty and fix her hair, instead of wearing it coiled at the nape of her neck.
“Come, then, sit with me until I finish.”
“All right.”
“Mother?” He motioned the old woman forward. “I would hear what you and Tia have been doing to keep my bride entertained while I have been gone.”
His mother smiled faintly. “Your wife works too much,” she said gruffly, but there was a spark of affection in her voice Carly had never heard.
“She helps that useless old Indian, Blue. I have told her she is a de la Guerra. De la Guerra women do not work like slaves, but she does not listen. Perhaps now that her husband is home, she will listen to you.”
Ramon laughed softly. “She has never listened to me before. I cannot think she will do so now.”
Carly flushed. She could hear the affection in his voice and so could everyone else.
Inside her heart, the ray of hope blossomed into a bright-burning flame.
A surge of love for him welled up, and a small lump formed in her throat.
Tonight she would please him, show him she could be the kind of woman he wanted.
She waited patiently while he ate, listening as he spoke with his mother and aunt, then started to clear his dishes when he finished and shoved back his chair.
Ramon caught her hand. “The hour grows late. Why do you not leave this for Blue and return instead to our room? I will join you there in a minute.” His hot look made her dizzy. Dear God, she knew what he was thinking. She was thinking about it, too!
“Yes…” she whispered, her mouth gone dry, the color high in her cheeks. “I’ll wait for you there.”