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Authors: Sara Craven

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you romantically decide to do the same

for me. Well, you may sacrifice your

precious virginity elsewhere. Why not

with your
novio?'
he added sneeringly.

'Your eager lover who looks as if he's

never laid a hand on a woman in passion

in his life.'

'Don't be ridiculous!' Unshed tears were

hurting her throat. 'You know perfectly

well that I just made that story up, and

that Mark's my brother.'

'I know perfectly well what was about to

happen between us when you decided to

surprise me with your little invention,'

he threw at her harshly. 'Do you know

what happens to a man when the girl in

his arms goes with him to the point of

surrender, and then changes her mind?

Agony,
querida,
not merely emotional

but physical. Well, I don't propose to

spend my last night on earth twisted into

knots because you draw back at the last

minute once again.'

'But it won't be like that.' Her hands

twisted together. 'Oh, what can I say to

convince you?'

He lifted a shoulder. 'I can't imagine why

you should want to convince me. You've

been fighting me since our first meeting,

so this sudden capitulation has an

interest, I suppose. What has kindled this

passion in you,
chica
? Rodriguez'

revelation that I'm a millionaire? Are

you hoping for a mention in my will—

for services rendered?'

'That's cruel,' she muttered, her voice

shaking.

'I'm not feeling particularly kind.' He

gave her a sombre look. 'You're getting

off lightly,
chica.
Last night, I promised I

would be gentle with your Tonight I'd

guarantee nothing. Now knock on the

door and tell the guard that this time I've

changed my mind.'

'I shall do nothing of the sort!' There was

an empty box piled up with some other

lumber in a corner of the room, and

Rachel dragged it forward and sat on it.

She said, 'Please don't send me away,

Vitas. I—I don't want to be on my own

tonight.' She waited desperately, but he

did not reply. She went on in a low

voice, 'Why—why don't you want me to

stay? Don't you—want me any more?'

'Want you?' He rolled over suddenly on

his side, his dark face blazing with anger

as he looked at her.
'Dios,
you little fool,

don't you understand anything? Of course

I want you. I've wanted you ever since I

saw you standing in the doorway at

Ramirez' place. Haven't I made it clear

to you— with every word, every look,

every touch?'

'Then why... ?' she could not complete

the sentence, just held out her hands in

mute appeal.

'Do I really have to spell it out to you?'

He swung his long legs to the floor and

sat gripping the edge of the thin mattress

so tightly that his knuckles were white

with the strain. 'Because for one thing,

Raquel, I wish to send you back to

England without too many memories—or

too many regrets.'

'Do you think I'm going to find you as

easy to forget as that?' she demanded

raggedly.

'Everything passes in time,
querida.
But

if I took you, you could well have an all

too potent reminder of my brief intrusion

into your life—you could find you were

carrying my child.' A faint smile touched

his lips as he saw her flush slightly.

'Something which had not occurred to

you?'

'No,' she admitted. 'But if that's your only

reason '

'It isn't.' His voice was almost laconic.

'To be frank,
querida,
I am scarcely in

the mood for a lengthy seduction, as I

hinted just now. Tonight my needs would

be better served by a woman of the

streets rather than an inexperienced girl.

Do I make myself clear?'

'Brutally clear.' Rachel lifted her chin.

'But are your needs the only ones to be

considered? You are assuming that

Rodriguez will keep his side of the

bargain tomorrow and let Mark and me

go, but you can't guarantee it.'

'That's only too true,' he said coolly. 'But

I hoped you wouldn't think about it too

closely. So what are you suggesting?

That we should try and forget in each

other's arms that dawn waits beneath die

horizon?' He smiled. 'That isn't very

realistic.'

'Perhaps not,' she said. 'But then none of

this seems very real. It's like one of

those nightmares that you know is only a

dream but yet can't wake from.'

'Like the one you experienced last night?'

'Yes,' she said. 'Which you woke me

from. Wake me again, Vitas.
For favor.'

He groaned.
'Dios,
Raquel, you tempt

me. Do you know how much?'

'Not enough, obviously.' She stood up,

pushing back the box. 'Shall I strip for

you?' Her hands went to the buttons of

her shirt. 'I shared a dressing room last

year with a girl who'd worked as a

stripper when she couldn't find anything

else. She showed me some of the tricks

one evening, for a giggle. I've no music,

and I'm wearing the wrong gear, but it

might amuse you ...'

'It would not amuse me in the slightest,'

he said icily. Two long strides brought

him to her, pulling her bruisingly into his

arms. 'And you may forget what tricks

she taught you. I don't need that kind of

stimulation,
querida.
I need the sight, the

scent, the feel of you.' His voice

thickened and broke off as his mouth

claimed hers with ruthless passion.

Rachel clung to him without reserve, her

lips parting willingly under the insistent

pressure of his. Without taking his mouth

from hers, he lifted her into his arms and

carried her back to the bed.

She had offered herself, and she had

expected to be taken, even used. She

was prepared and willing for that—

anything that would keep the darkness

from him, and her generosity reaped its

own

overwhelming

rewards.

His

initiation of her was almost wickedly

controlled yet passionate, consummately

skilful, but tender. Her first inevitable

shyness dissolved away in his arms, as

he taught her to respond, to return the

pleasure she received, a pleasure that

superseded and transcended the first

sharp, pain of possession.

When it was over, she lay trembling in

the aftermath of a delight she had never

dreamed of knowing, and there were

tears on her face, tears of joy, gratitude

and disbelief. And Vitas kissed the tears

away and murmured to her in Spanish,

every word a caress. She fell asleep, her

fair head pillowed against his chest, her

slim body totally relaxed against his, and

later he woke her with a trail of light

teasing kisses across her throat and

breasts, until, at last, his mouth was

teasing no longer but burning her with a

fire that threatened to consume her

utterly. She could only cling to him and

allow herself to be swept away on the

force of his passion, dying a little death

in his arms.

Some time later she opened her eyes and

realised that she was alone. She sat up,

noticing in alarm that there was a pale

light emanating from the tiny square

window high in the wall.

'Si,' Vitas said quietly. 'It is dawn,

querida.''

She saw that he had re-lit the lamp and

was using the box as a writing table.

'What are you writing?' she asked

bewilderedly.

'A letter to my mother.' He sealed the

envelope.

'But where did you get the paper and the

pen?'

'I imagine they were originally the

property of your brother,' he said. 'I

asked one of Rodriguez' men to get them

for me last night.'

He came back to the bed and lay down

beside her. 'I have something to give

you,
amada.'

She tried to smile, but made a mess of it.

'There—there has to be a joke in that

line.'

'Perhaps.' He leaned forward and kissed

her mouth lingeringly. 'And presently we

will both enjoy—the joke. But first we

must talk.
Chica,
neither you nor I know

what the day will bring to us, but let us

assume that Rodriguez will keep his

word and let you and your brother leave

Diablo as agreed. The horses are tied up

near to where I left you last night. Ride

as far and as fast as you can. As soon as

you reach an army post, stop and tell

them what has happened, and say to them

that I request they escort you to my house

near Villavicencio. Do you understand?'

'Yes.' Her eyes widened endlessly as

she looked at him. 'But why to your

house, Vitas?'

'Because I hope you will take my letter

to my mother,' he said quietly. He

unfastened the medallion he wore and

put it round her neck, allowing the silver

chain to slip into place in the valley

between her breasts.

'One last thing,' he added. 'I will try and

persuade Rodriguez to let you go before

I show him the mine. But if he refuses,

there could be danger for you,
querida
,

so you must promise to obey me instantly

if I give you an order. If I say "Run" then

you run at once. If I say "Get down", then

you fall to the ground immediately. And

your brother too.'

'Vitas ' she began chokingly.

'No more talk.' He leaned forward and

kissed the smooth hollow where the

medallion lay. 'Remember what I have

said. And don't cry,
mi amada,
for we

are not beaten yet. Life is still sweet—

and soon will be sweeter.'

Rachel was calm and dressed when the

door was unbarred. Vitas' letter was

tucked down inside her boot, and the

medallion lay, a cool and unfamiliar

weight, between her breasts, her shirt

buttoned high to conceal it.

She walked past the guard, her head held

high, and out into the sunshine. The first

person she saw was Mark. He was

standing by the dead bonfire, storing

down at the blackened embers. He had a

tin mug in his hand. After a moment's

hesitation, she walked across and joined

him, slipping her hand through his arm.

'They didn't chain you up last night?'

'No.' His manner was peculiar to say the

least. He didn't look at her, and his face

wore an odd expression between

hostility and embarrassment.

She persevered, 'Is that coffee you've

got? I'd love some.'

'It's filthy stuff,' he muttered. Then,

giving her a sharp sideways glance,

'Didn't the condemned man invite you to

share his hearty breakfast? From the

lewd jokes that have been passed around

this morning, I gather you've shared

everything else with him.'

Rachel felt as if he had struck her in the

face..

'Yes, I slept with Vitas last night. Does it

matter?'

'Matter?' His voice was outraged. 'God,

isn't everything bad enough without you

—degrading yourself with one of the top

Colombian studs, for a bunch of greasy

cut-throats to snigger over?'

Her face was white. 'How dare you!'

'How dared you?' he retorted. 'You

know what this would do to Grandfather

if he ever found out.'

She said tonelessly, 'The only way he'll

find out is if you tell him. And remember

we still have to get back to England

first.'

Mark looked down scowling. 'I haven't

forgotten,' he muttered.

She said with difficulty, 'Mark love, we

shouldn't quarrel. Not at a time like this.'

He said defensively, 'I know, Rachie.

But if you'd only heard what they've

been saying—especially that little creep

they call Carlos—and in English; to

make sure I understood.'

'It must have been most upsetting for

you.' Her tone was ironic. 'Perhaps it's

slipped your mind that Vitas has

bartered a family secret that his father

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