Tender Savage

  She rose to her feet and moved slowly to the closet across the room. Ricardo’s book was still in the canvas tote bag on the shelf where she had placed it the afternoon Brett had given it to her. She took the slim volume out of the bag and carried it back to the couch. She sat down and opened the book to the first page.

  ——————

  Two hours later she closed the book and leaned her head back against the cushions of the couch. Her throat was tight with tears, yet she felt exhilarated.

  She had been wrong. Her child had a legacy. Dear God, what a legacy Ricardo had left the world in this book. Gradually, as she had read, all the bitterness and hurt she had felt toward Ricardo had disappeared. The book was written without self-pity, and yet the suffering and loneliness of the years resounded in every word. If their time together had eased both his loneliness and her own, what right had she to demand he give her more?

  The man who had written this book was an extraordinary human being as well as a patriot. Even if he wasn’t able to love her, he was a man well worth loving. He had told her once he had wanted to write words that would shake the world, and these words had shaken and stirred her to the depths. She now knew why Brett had gone to Saint Pierre to fight.

  “I’m back.” Manuel threw open the door and ran into the apartment. “Now we can go—what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’ve been crying.” His eyes searched her face. “Why have—” He saw the book and nodded, relieved. “Oh, it’s okay, then.”

  “Is it?”

  “You needn’t be ashamed. I’ve seen soldiers cry when reading Ricardo’s book,” he said matter-of-factly. “You scared me. I thought you were sick.” He took the book away from her and put it on the table by the couch. “Now we can go to the restaurant. Then I think you should come home and rest.”

  She lifted her brows. “Why are you so set on my resting? I told you I was fine.”

  “I have to take—” He stopped and smiled at her. “You would not have gone to the doctor if you had felt entirely well.” He tugged at her hand to pull her to her feet. “Come on. Now we eat.”

  Lara stirred from a deep sleep.

  A sound …

  She opened drowsy eyes and saw a shadowy face bending over her. Fear jarred her into full wakefulness. She opened her lips to scream.

  A hand clapped over her mouth. “Shh, it’s all right. It’s me, Paco.”

  “Paco!” Lara’s eyes widened with shock as she twisted her head to avoid Paco’s hard, callused hand. “You scared me to death.” She reached over and turned on the lamp on the bedside table. The resulting pool of light revealed a strange, yet familiar, Paco. The same elfin features and bright eyes were there, but Paco wasn’t wearing his usual combat gear. He had on a dark-green uniform, with a knifelike crease in the trousers; his jacket sported a full complement of medals. “You look very grand. What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” Before he could speak, she asked, “You’ve come for Manuel?”

  “Yes.”

  She sat up in bed, pulling up the thin straps of her nightgown that had fallen from her shoulders. “I was afraid of that.” She glanced at the clock. “Good heavens, it’s three o’clock. Couldn’t you have waited until morning? I’ll have to go wake him up.”

  “He’s awake and dressed. He let us into the apartment.”

  “Us?”

  “I have a few men in the living room waiting.” He paused. “Bodyguards.”

  She laughed uneasily. “I thought the war was over. You have to travel with bodyguards?”

  “Not me.”

  She looked at him, frowning. “Manuel?”

  “No.” He grimaced. “You.”

  “Me?” She swung her feet to the floor. “What the devil are you talking about?”

  “Ricardo sent me to bring you back to Saint Pierre.”

  She felt as if she had been struck in the stomach. “What?”

  “He wants to see you.”

  She felt a sudden soaring of hope and tried desperately to crush it down. “I find that hard to believe. He sent me away.”

  “Things have changed.”

  “Not between us.”

  “Yes,” Paco said softly. “Ricardo knows about the child.”

  Another shock. “He couldn’t know—I just found out myself two days ago. How?”

  “Manuel.”

  She looked at him uncomprehendingly.

  He shrugged. “Ricardo gave Manuel orders to care for you and report to us regularly. I gave Manuel the name and address of our contact here in Barbados. When he found out you’d gone to a doctor, he let the contact know. That man then called the doctor’s office and found out she was an obstetrician and gynecologist.”

  “You’re joking. You’re saying Ricardo had Manuel spying on me?” She laughed shakily. “He’s only nine years old.”

  “Ricardo put it to Manuel as protecting and caring for you. It made Manuel’s stay easier to know he had a task to do. He’s been a soldier for too long to shake—”

  “Stop saying that. He’s not a soldier. He’s only a little—Why am I arguing with you?” She picked up her robe from the chair beside the bed and put it on. “It’s all nonsense. I’ll make you and your ‘bodyguards’ coffee before you take Manuel.”

  He shook his head. “You have to come with us.”

  “The hell I do.” She turned on him fiercely. “This child has nothing to do with Ricardo. I’m going back to the States in two weeks and I’ll be out of his life for good.”

  “You don’t understand.” Steel had entered Paco’s voice. “I have orders to bring you back, and I have to do it, Lara.”

  She looked at him in astonishment. “Are you talking force.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Dear heaven, you’d actually kidnap me?”

  “I have a plane waiting at—”

  “And what if I struggle? Aren’t you afraid of hurting the great liberator’s child?”

  “We’d see that you didn’t hurt yourself.” Paco looked both unhappy and uncomfortable. “Manuel said you were happy about the baby. I don’t think you’d risk losing it.”

  “No, by God, I won’t let anything happen to—” She stopped. “You’re really going to do this thing?”

  “I’ll have your bags packed while you get dressed.”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  “He only wants to talk to you, Lara.”

  “Well, I don’t want to talk to him.” She hugged herself, trying to still the shivers running through her. She didn’t want to see Ricardo and chance being thrown into that chaos of emotions again. In the last two days she had come to terms with her life and her future without him. “We said all we had to say.”

  “It’s his child.”

  “It’s my child.”

  “Then come with us and tell him so.”

  “I will.” She turned and strode toward the bathroom. “Since he doesn’t appear to be giving me any choice. I read his book. He doesn’t live by his convictions, does he?”

  “I think he feels he has no choice himself, this time, Lara.”

  “He told me once there are always choices. Well, I’m about to give him one or two that he won’t find pleasant.” She glanced at Paco over her shoulder. “What about Brett? I won’t have him sitting in the hospital worrying about me.”

  “I’ll make sure Brett knows about this.”

  “Not about the child.”

  Paco shook his head. “I’ll tell him we had a very good reason for inviting you back to Saint Pierre.”

  “Inviting?” She slammed the bathroom door behind her.

  A long black limousine bearing the green, white, and scarlet flag of the Republic of Saint Pierre was waiting by the hangar when the private jet landed shortly before noon.

  Paco got into the front seat beside the driver. Manuel clambered into the backseat of the limousine beside Lara. The boy had stayed at Paco’s side and scarcely glanced at Lara during the e
ntire flight from Barbados. He didn’t look at her now but fastened his eyes on the back of Paco’s head as the limousine glided away from the hangar and through the tall wire fence that bordered the landing field. His dark eyes shone moistly in his thin face. “You’re angry with me.”

  “Shouldn’t I be? I thought we were friends.”

  “We are friends. But Ricardo is—”

  “The Pied Piper,” Lara finished wearily. “Never mind. I’m not really angry with you. I should have known I couldn’t expect loyalty from Ricardo’s—”

  “I am loyal to you,” Manuel broke in fiercely. “You don’t understand. Ricardo said you must be protected.”

  “From myself?”

  “You belong to Ricardo.” Manuel’s jaw set stubbornly. “He knows what is best for you.”

  “Manuel, my boy, you’ve been living in those caves too long. I’m the only one who knows what’s best for me.”

  The limousine glided down the ramp into the street, and Lara glimpsed the massive crenellated stone bulk of the palacio on the third hill in the distance. She unconsciously tensed as she thought of the battle that waited for her there.

  A small hand crept closer and covered her own on the seat. “Don’t be scared,” Manuel said. “Paco says he’s not angry with you.”

  “Well, I’m angry with him.”

  Manuel was silent a moment and then said haltingly, “It was the baby. That was why I did it.”

  “What?”

  “Bad things happen to babies when they’re not protected.”

  And who should know that better than Manuel? she thought with a pang of sadness. Her annoyance with him subsided and she turned her hand over and clasped his. “I’ll protect my baby.”

  “Ricardo can do it better. Ricardo took care of me.” He moistened his lips. “I get scared sometimes and I need—Ricardo makes it go away.”

  It had taken a great deal for Manuel to admit to fear and he had done it as a silent apology for his part in bringing her here against her will. Lara gently touched his mop of dark hair. “Don’t worry; whatever happens, I’m not going to blame you.”

  The limousine drove through the arched gates and across the enormous mosaic-tiled courtyard before stopping in front of the palacio.

  Two uniformed guards sprang forward to open the passenger doors. Paco got out and stood waiting on the steps until Lara and Manuel joined him.

  “Ricardo is in his quarters waiting for you.” Paco took Lara’s elbow and propelled her into the gleaming foyer. “He apologizes for not meeting you at the airport, but he can’t go out on the streets these days without being mobbed and he didn’t want to call attention to your arrival.”

  “Why not? I doubt if anyone would believe the great man capable of kidnapping.” Lara glanced around the huge reception area and then up at the frescoes on the ceiling. “This looks like a cathedral. A temple for the great liberator?”

  Paco ignored the remark as he looked down at Manuel and they started up the great curving staircase. “The inauguration is tomorrow and we’re going to have to get you a fine outfit to wear at the ceremony.”

  “A uniform like yours?” Manuel asked eagerly.

  “We’ll see.” Paco released Lara’s arm as they reached a carved mahogany door guarded by two uniformed soldiers. “Suppose we go to the tailor now and see what he can do for you.” He motioned to one of the guards, who immediately threw open the door. “You and I will see Ricardo later, eh?”

  Manuel glanced at Lara and then nodded. “Later.”

  Lara was rigid with tension as she moved toward the open door.

  “He’s doing what he thinks is right, Lara,” Paco said in a low voice, taking Manuel’s hand and turning away.

  She scarcely heard him as she walked into the sitting room.

  Ricardo was standing by the long French window across the room. He was bathed in sunlight that revealed the luster of his dark hair and the tension of his squared shoulders beneath the jacket of his dark-green dress uniform.

  She stared at him and suddenly she was feeling the same overwhelming wave of emotion she had experienced that last day at the lake before he had sent her away. She had thought she had come to terms with the past, but it was sweeping back. Dear Lord, she didn’t want to feel like this. She didn’t want to love him. She groped desperately for the anger and frustration she had felt on the journey here.

  She moved forward and stood before him. “You used a child to spy on me. That’s despicable, Ricardo.”

  “Yes, it is,” Ricardo agreed quietly. “Despicable. But I could see no other way. You wouldn’t have told me about the child.”

  “No.” Lara glared up at him. “You’re damn right I wouldn’t. I said when we parted that I wouldn’t coming running to you if I found I was pregnant.”

  “Running?” His lips twisted and he shook his head. “I knew you’d have to be roped and tied before you’d accept my help.”

  “So you sent Paco and your goon squad to drag me back.”

  He flinched. “They aren’t a goon squad. They’re your bodyguards. I had to make sure you were safe.”

  “And wouldn’t resist your invitation.” Her lips tightened. “I’m here. Say what you want to say and then send me back to Barbados.”

  “I can’t send you back to Barbados. You’re carrying my child.”

  Her eyes widened in disbelief. “So I’m supposed to stay here and let you take care of me? I don’t suppose we’re talking about marriage?”

  “No.”

  It was the answer she had expected and still the pain spiraled through her. She had to fight desperately to keep him from seeing it.

  “I didn’t think so.” She turned away and looked through the window down into the courtyard. “Then what are you suggesting?” She pretended to think. “Let’s see, you want to marry me to one of your officers so that you can keep an eye on your offspring?”

  “No.” His voice was hoarse and so low she could barely hear it.

  “That’s good,” she said sarcastically. “I’d be disappointed in your lack of ingenuity. That kind of arrangement went out of fashion in the nineteenth century and you’re a man of the future, a man who carves new frontiers and—”

  “Shut up!” His tone held such violence, her gaze flew to his face. Lines of pain carved either side of his mouth, and his eyes glittered with torment. “I can’t take any more of this.”

  “Why not? Everything I’ve said is true. What did you have in mind? Perhaps I’m to become el presidente’s mistress with a covey of bastards clinging to my skirts?”

  “No, you can’t stay here on Saint Pierre.”

  “You’re probably right. I’ve noticed you become bored quite easily and it would prove an inconvenience to you to have me—”

  His hand clamped over her mouth. It was shaking. His voice also shook as he said, “I told you I couldn’t—you’re tearing me apart. I know I hurt you. I know I’m hurting you now. But I can’t stand here and let you do it to me anymore. It’s worse than Jurado’s sharp little ice pick jabbing and jabbing and …” His hand moved yearningly from her lips to hover above the soft swing of hair touching her shoulders. “Lord, I’ve wanted to touch you. Do you know how often I’ve thought of the way you move beneath me and the way you look and smell and …” He trailed off and closed his eyes for an instant. Then his lids flicked open and he took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

  She gazed at him in wonder, as a tiny glow of hope suddenly flaring within her. Something was wrong here. Or perhaps something was wonderfully right. “Then why did you do it?”

  “I couldn’t stop—” He broke off and then said jerkily, “What else? Sex rearing its head again. We’ve always had a very combustible reaction to each other.”

  He was lying. Oh, there had definitely been lust in his expression, but there had also been something else. The hope flared higher.

  She moved away from the French window and dropped into a high-backed cushioned chai
r. She must be careful. The flame of hope could be infinitely fragile. “Very well, I’m listening. Why am I here?”

  “Two reasons. We have to come to an agreement about the child.”

  “And the other reason?”

  “To receive your medal.”

  She blinked. “For having your child?”

  He smiled for the first time since she had entered the room. “I hope the conception wasn’t that terrible.” His smile faded. “For bravery. Do you still have those whip marks on your back?”

  “They’re almost gone.” She shook her head to clear it. His last words had taken her completely by surprise. “You brought me here to give me a medal?”

  “You deserve it. It will be presented tomorrow night at the inauguration ball. The Saint Pierre Ribbon of Courage.”

  “I don’t want a medal.”

  “You’ll receive it anyway.” Ricardo’s jaw tightened stubbornly. “You gave to us. Now we give to you.”

  She smiled faintly. “I’ve already been advised there’s a gift on the way.”

  Ricardo’s expression became shadowed. “That’s not a gift; it’s a burden.”

  She shook her head and repeated softly, “A gift.”

  His eyes met hers and suddenly there was a velvet intimacy charging the atmosphere between them. Ricardo tore his gaze away from her and said huskily, “I’m glad you view it in that light, but there are still problems.”

  “None I can’t overcome.”

  “With my help. I intend to settle enough on you to make you and the child secure for the rest of your lives.” He waved his hand as she started to speak. “And I’ll assign a man to guard you and the child. You needn’t worry. He’ll be very unobtrusive.”

  “Guard me? Why should I need guards?”

  “I still have enemies. If they can’t get to me, they may try to hurt the people I care about. Even though we’ll make sure no one knows that we were lov—close, I’d still feel better if you were protected.”

  Something that had been tugging at her memory clicked into place. “Protected …” She studied him thoughtfully. “Oh, would you?”

  “Yes.” Ricardo stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his legs astride. “Here’s what I plan on doing. Tomorrow night you’ll receive your medal. Naturally, we’ll be careful not to let anyone know that we are more than friends.”