Flame of Diablo (20 page)

Rodriguez.'

Rachel said, 'If this is painful for you,

then you don't have to tell me.'

'Is there ever a way to escape pain? You

spoke of the scar on my back as if it

mattered,
querida,
but I tell you it is

nothing compared to the scar Juan

Rodriguez has etched on my soul. The

scar of which—this,' he put his hand up

to the eye-patch—'is the visible sign.'

He paused. 'I was born during
La

Violencia,
so I grew up with fear, but

when I was nine years old, it seemed to

be over. But my father was not so sure.

Years before he had made a hiding place

near our house, big enough for my

mother, my sister and myself. We had

heard that Rodriguez was marauding in

the vicinity, but the news from Bogota

was hopeful, so we grew careless. The

army was expected through at any time.

They would clear up the remnants of

groups like Rodriguez'—that is what we

told ourselves. Then, one morning, we

saw the smoke from many fires. My

father made us go to the shelter. My

mother was crying, begging him to come

with us, and he promised he would

follow. But first there were things that he

had to do, he said. We stood there while

he kissed us, and gave us his blessing,

and I remember how my mother took his

head in her hands and looked at his face

for a long time, as if she knew she would

never look on him again. Then we went

as he told us and hid. It seemed to me

that we were there for a long time. In the

end, my mother and sister went to sleep,

worn out by crying, and I crept out and

went back to the house.' There was a

silence, and Rachel felt a kind of

shudder go through him.

'Rodriguez was there with my father,' he

went on after a moment. 'He had some

information that they wanted, and which

he was unwilling to give them, so they

had been—playing with him. And I was

glad that my mother could not see him

then.'

Rachel said unsteadily, 'Vitas—I...' but

he silenced her with a lift of his hand.

'I suppose I must have cried out, because

some of his men found me and took me

into the room where they were. My

father was barely alive, but he saw me,

and the look of reproach he gave me still

hurts. For himself, he had not cared, but

he knew he would not be able to see me

in the sort of pain that Rodriguez would

inflict, and that he would tell him what

he wanted to know. But he was spared

that at least, because he died only a

moment later.' He paused again.

'Rodriguez was angry. His face had no

expression, but there was a little muscle

jumping in his temple, and I heard

afterwards that was a bad sign with him.

I could not stop looking at him. He

wasn't more than twenty-five years old,

but he had made his name stink in men's

mouths. Then he turned to me and said,

"So the dead dog has left us his litter.

Why are you staring, boy? What do you

see?" And I said, "I see the devil." For a

moment no one spoke, then Rodriguez

laughed, and said, "Look well then, for

my face is the last thing you will ever

see." And he nodded to one of his men.'

Rachel said unevenly, 'Oh God, you

don't mean—he couldn't have ... You

were only a child!'

'But a child who knew his face,

querida
,' he said gently. 'Few people

who had seen Rodriguez had survived to

give an adequate description to the

authorities. However—as I told you—I

bear a charmed life
.
They had barely

started on me when we heard gunfire and

the promised army patrol arrived at last.

They found me crouching over my

father's body. By then, it was too late to

save my eye.'

'How—horrible!' Her voice broke.

'What did they do to Rodriguez when

they caught him? Did they hang him? Or

is it a firing squad in Colombia?'

He said evenly, 'They have never caught

him,
chica.
Oh, they have come close

once or twice, but Rodriguez is still

alive and on the loose, and one day I

will meet up with him again. That is one

reason I wear this patch—so he will

remember the child whose sight he tried

to destroy, and know that his hour has

come.' He looked at her. 'That shocks

you?'

'No,' she admitted honestly. 'Perhaps it

should, but I know in your place I would

feel exactly the same.'

'Bravo, querida.'
He spoke with the old

mockery. 'But it would be a pity to

thwart my plans for vengeance by

permitting me to die of pneumonia in an

icy bath. Perhaps you would be good

enough to hand me that towel and turn

your head for a moment.'

She started. 'Yes, of course—I mean

—
no!
' Hurriedly she caught up the towel

and tossed it to him. 'Now please stay

exactly where you are until I get out of

this room.'

He laughed. 'Oh, Raquel, what a mass of

contradictions you are! Only a few

moments ago I felt your hands like velvet

upon me, stroking away my stresses and

strains, touching my skin as if you could

not get enough of me. Now you are

pretending to be the frigid English virgin

again. Earlier today, you spat venom at

me, yet just now your eyes were full of

tears when I told you of my father.'

'Give me credit for some feelings!' She

was on her way to the door, but she half

turned to answer him indignantly, then

spun back again with a little gasp. 'I—

asked you to stay where you were!'

'I don't have to obey you,
chica.'
His

hands descended on her shoulders,

turning her to face him. 'Rodriguez tried

to destroy my sight, but he affected none

of my other senses, and whether you

know it or not, your fingertips gave me a

message just now—a message I could

not mistake. The same one that your lips

gave me earlier today.'

'You—you're imagining things.' She

stared wildly at the medallion nestling

among the dark hair on his chest. 'I—I

must go. Supper will be ready. I'm—

incredibly hungry.'

'So am I, but not for supper,' he

murmured. One hand slid from her

shoulder to cup the nape of her neck

under the soft fall of her hair, his thumb

moving in small disturbing circles

against her flesh.

'You're blushing,' he told her softly. 'And

your pulses are racing. You cannot tell

me you are embarrassed,-because I'm

now quite adequately covered by this

towel, so there must be another reason.

Why don't you stop fooling yourself,

Raquel' You're not running away from

me, but from yourself.'

'If that's what your egotism wants you to

believe,' she said in a small stiff voice.

'Now please Jet me go.'

'I am not stopping you,
amiga.
All you

have to do is walk away.' As if to

underline his point, he let his other hand

drop from her shoulder. 'Why don't you

run?' He bent his head and placed his

lips deliberately against the betrayal of

the tumultuous pulse in her throat. 'Why

don't you?' he whispered.

'I don't know.' It was only a thread of

sound, but he heard it.

'But I do,' he told her, and pulled her into

his arms, his mouth seeking hers with

passionate possessiveness. She yielded

at once, her arms sliding compulsively

round his waist, her fingers spreading

across the broad muscularity of his back.

She heard him groan her name against

her lips— and then heard the hesitant tap

on the door and Maria calling,
'Senor—

Senorita! Es la hora de cenar.'

Vitas gave a long reluctant sigh and put

her from him very slowly.

'We cannot keep Maria waiting,' he

murmured. He ran a caressing finger

down her softly flushed cheek. 'Stay with

me while I dress.'

Rachel shook her head, trying to control

her flurried breathing. 'I—I can't.'

Misery threatened to overwhelm her as

she realised how close she had been to

total surrender.

'You could,' he said flatl y. His face

hardened a little as he looked at her. 'But

run away if you must.' He turned away

with a dismissive shrug. 1 am sorry you

will have to wait for your own bath until

after we have eaten,' he tossed at her

over his shoulder.

'It doesn't matter.' She went to the door,

then hesitated. 'You—you won't forget

what you promised?'

'To respect your privacy?' He smiled

rather grimly. 'No, I won't forget—as

long as you don't keep me waiting too

long.' He registered the startled look she

gave him with a sardonic lift of his

brows. 'I may wish to use this room,' he

explained.

'Oh—I see. Well, I'll just ask Maria to

move the tub into my room,' she said.

His laugh halted her on the threshold.

'You are not staying at the Hilton,
chica.

Maria has only one room to offer

passing travellers, and this happens to

be it. Tonight you will be sharing it with

me—unless you can think of somewhere

else to run to?'

He laughed again, and its mocking echo

seemed to pursue Rachel as she fled

across the courtyard to the lamplit room

where Maria and her family were

waiting to begin their evening meal.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Rachel had told herself she would not be

able to eat a thing, but when the

empanadas
—golden-brown

pastry

cases, containing a spicy mixture of

meat, egg and capers— were glowingly

placed before her by Maria, Rachel

found them impossible to resist.

Even the arrival of Vitas a few minutes

later, immaculate and more disturbingly

attractive than ever in dark close-fitting

pants, and an elegantly frilled white shirt

which only served to enhance the deep

bronze of his skin and the raven darkness

of his hair, could not spoil her appetite.

She was aware of him all the time, of

course, totally and exclusively, and from

the moment he entered the room.

Shakingly aware of his proximity as he

slid into his place beside her on the

rough wooden bench, his thigh casually

brushing hers. And she had little else to

do as she ate but to think of him and

what the night ahead of her would bring.

The language barrier excluded her from

the conversation and made her the prey

of her own tormenting thoughts, even

though Vitas was scrupulous about

translating remarks that he thought would

interest her.

It's as well you don't understand any of

this,' he remarked once in an undertone

as he handed her a platter heaped with

warm corn muffins. 'Maria is determined

to recall what an angelic child I was,

and I am sure you would let your

disbelief show.'

Rachel gave a small, forced smile,

aware

that

Maria

was

beaming

maternally down the table at them. She

wondered how old Maria was. She

could not be in more than her late

forties, and her children were still quite

young, so she must have been almost a

child herself when she was Vitas' nurse.

'She was fifteen when my mother hired

her,' his voice said almost laconically in

her ear, as if he had divined her

thoughts. 'She was the eldest of nine

children, so there was nothing she did

not know about the care of babies, and

the love of them too.' He smiled. 'She

would have me believe there is nothing

she wishes more than to see her own

children grow up so that she can come

and take charge of my nursery in time.'

Rachel put down her fork, a sudden

constricted feeling in her throat as an

image came into her mind of Vitas as a