Spanish Serenade by Jennifer Blake Read Free Book Online Page A

wariness would stop me if I decided to approach you?”
    It was a test of nerve, that slow advance. She would not move, Pilar thought, as he came nearer and nearer, walking with the long-limbed grace of perfect physical condition and muscles oiled with constant effort. She didn't care if he walked over her, she would not move. Her mind sought here and there for an answer to the question he had asked. She could not find one, but no matter, she would not move. Behind her, the clink of dishes stopped. Isabel's soft murmurs of distress died away. The only sounds were the crackle of the fire and the light drumming of the rain overhead.
    Pilar had little defense against the bandit leader. She could fight, but given his superior strength, he would overpower her in short order. She was surrounded by his friends and companions, men trained to do his bidding without question and who, equally without question, would stand aside while he took his chosen pleasures. Of her own free will she had placed herself in the power of El Leon. It would take an extraordinary combination of wit and luck to escape from the lair of this lion, unless he chose to let her go.
    He stopped in front of her, standing so close that the ragged edges of his cloak swung against her damp skirts. He reached out his hand to cup the tender curve of her check in his strong, long-fingered hand. She flinched, a movement instantly stilled as she felt the heat of his touch, the hard ridges of the calluses that lined his palm and toughened his fingertips, and the jolting sensation of that deliberate contact. She drew a quick breath, her lips parting with the intake. His gaze narrowed upon their smooth surfaces and delicate curves, and he brushed his thumb across them in a movement of gentle and absorbed exploration that left them tingling. She shivered, her jaw trembling a little under his hold, while she lowered her lashes to hide her startled confusion.
    He released her with an abrupt gesture, lowering his hand to his side. When he spoke, his voice was low and derisive. “Vigilant and valiant, and wet to the skin — what makes you think I'm so desperate for a bedmate that I would take one who is wild-eyed with aversion and has chattering teeth? Or that I have so little acumen as to lower the value of a hostage by a quick tumble?”
    She swallowed hard, so chilled inside herself that she felt the ripple of gooseflesh at the removal of his warm caress. “Then the things you said were merely to frighten me.”
    “To encourage quick and clear answers to pertinent questions. I admit it was crude.”
    “But successful. Or should I worry that what you're saying now is yet another effort, one to make me biddable while you and your men rest?”
    “Would you prefer it that way?”
    “I would prefer that you abide by our agreement without detours and threats.” She had begun to tremble in every muscle from purest reaction, and hid her knotted fists among the folds of her skirts in the attempt to hide it.
    “There was nothing in our agreement that said I had to die for you, señorita. That's leaving aside the question of the vanished gold. You keep your bargains, and you'll find that I keep mine.”
    “There are some things we can't control.”
    He stood looking down at her for a long moment before he swung away. “Or escape,” he said in tight acceptance. “I believe we are in agreement on that. But come to the fire. If you mean to count these uncontrollable and inescapable things, let us at least do it in comfort.”
    His tone did not encourage either refusal or delay. If he were resigned to taking no more than the silver for the service he had performed for her, he gave no outward sign. He had himself arranged their close quarters of the next few hours, and had also proposed that he face her aunt. What else was there?
    There was the accusation Isabel had made, that Refugio had brought her to the stone hut for his own purpose. But no, Pilar could not believe it. There