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Something in his voice warned me not to press him any further, and yet I was not content to leave things as they were. I wanted reassurance. Before I was forced to go back indoors to the man who was my husband, I wanted, once more, to feel of my lover’s kiss on my lips.
I saw him send the half-smoked cigarette arcing away into the darkness and put my hand up, tracing the outline of his mouth with my fingers.
“Lucas.”
With a fury that startled me he caught my wrist, forcing it down.
“Don’t!” I had the impression he spoke through clenched teeth. “Go back in the house now, Rowena. I’ve had just about all I can take for one night—what the hell are you trying to do?”
He was still holding my wrist, fingers gripping it so hard I thought it must surely snap. But I almost welcomed the pain, because he was inflicting it, and I knew why.
“Do you think I want to go back in there? Oh, God, Lucas, will we ever stop hurting each other? I’m not pretending—I never have, with you. It’s only been my pride that’s made me try to hate you. Even to hurt you, if I could, because you hurt me. You see, I haven’t loved a man before, I haven’t been prepared.”
“Don’t, Ro.” But this time his voice was a husky whisper, no longer harsh as it had been a moment ago. “You didn’t have to tell me that, I guess I always knew it, and yet I—Christ, if you only knew how mixed up I’ve been! But tomorrow…” He kissed me then, without another word, his kiss at once gentle and angry, tender and cruel. And when he released me, he said roughly, “There! Take that back with you to your bedroom tonight!”
It seemed that it was only seconds later, as I still stood there with one hand on the railing to support myself, that I found myself listening to the sound of retreating hoofbeats; Lucas’s words still echoing in my ears.
I had to go inside.
Straightening my shoulders, I pulled the shawl closely about myself as if to ward off the chill I felt gathering in me like a cold hand closing about my heart. Without giving myself any more time to think, I pushed open the door and the heat and the cigar smoke hit me like a blow in the face. And I told myself that if I had never acted before, I would act now, and deceive them all.
Four pairs of eyes turned to watch me as I walked slowly into the center of the room. Monique’s slanted green gaze—amused, and somehow knowing at the same time. Montoya’s dark, glittering stare, over his twisted, cynical smile. John Kingman’s eyes told me nothing. Mark…
I let the shawl slip to the floor with a careless shrug of my shoulders, smiling at them all.
“My goodness! Are you still talking business?” I sat down in the chair that Mark held stiffly for me and picked up the fan I had left on the table, beginning to fan myself languidly. “It’s so hot in here, after the cool air outside.”
“Did you walk far?” Mark sounded as if the words had been forced from his throat. I met his eyes, and they seemed unusually bright.
I raised my shoulders negligently, almost glad that the role I had chosen to play kept my thoughts occupied and concentrated. “Oh, we stayed on the porch in the end, and talked. I didn’t care to ruin my slippers in the dust.”
I looked around at them all, my eyebrows raised. “Why is everyone so silent? Mark…” and this time I looked directly into his eyes, noticing his flushed, almost sullen face. “You didn’t mind, did you? After what we had talked about, I knew that you would understand.”
Montoya interposed smoothly, “I think we were all rather worried because my headstrong friend does not take kindly to following orders. And especially those given by a woman. But I was sure, señora Rowena, that you would not find it difficult to persuade him otherwise.”
I shrugged, as if I had dismissed an unpleasant subject “We argued a great deal, of course. But at least I made him admit that he had lost fairly. I believe that when he is over feeling angry he will keep his word.”
Monique’s laugh broke the slight tension that had seized us all. “There! Didn’t I tell you? ‘Rowena is quite capable of holding her own,’ I told these silly men. And you see, I was right.” Her eyes caught mine in what was almost a conspiratorial look. “And now that you are back, cherie, and quite unharmed, shall we retire? I think we will have a long day ahead of us.”
Forty-Four
I do not choose to dwell too closely on the rest of that night. Once we had left the others, Mark’s indifferent attitude changed to one of anger and jealousy. The only way I could calm him was to affect an air of arrogance.
“For heaven’s sake Mark! Don’t act so—so middle class. Surely you remember that I married you of my own free will?”
He had drunk too much brandy, and swayed slightly on his feet, the flush on his face more apparent than ever.
“Yes, by God! I remember that. But do you? Does he?”
“You brought him here, Mark. Pray, do not spoil the effect of your clever idea with a display of jealousy.” I pouted deliberately. “Surely you trust me? I am already beginning to see him through your eyes, now you must allow me t
he opportunity you promised—of bringing him to heel. Perhaps I might even be able to persuade him to admit to a few of the crimes he has committed.”
“Rowena, Rowena! If I thought…”
Mark’s hands tightened on my shoulders, but I continued to remove the diamond stars from my hair, wrapping each one carefully in tissue paper before I put them away in the chamois leather bag I kept them in.
“If you’re afraid of him, Mark, then why don’t you send him away? Tell him we’ve changed our minds, that his services are no longer needed.”
