Nobody's Saint (35 page)

Her voice was shaking when she said, “‘Twouldn’t take me long to change.”

He simplified his words, so she understood every one of them. Breathing became a little harder.

“Well, ‘tis not as if my family or anyone I know is here. I don’t suppose it makes such a difference.” She smiled at him and offered no resistance when he resumed his walk toward the church.

Latin was Latin, so the dry Mass was familiar and comfortable to them both, and just over an hour later they kissed passionately and sealed their troth. When they parted, the priest shook his head grimly. He could see why the Spanish bishop had seen a need to speed things along. It was clear that four months at sea would have been too much temptation for this wanton pair!

As they walked hand-in-hand back to the inn, Mary Kate’s heart pounded fit to keep time with an Irish jig, and her feet nearly started to perform the steps.

Diego could feel nervous energy pour right through her palm into his. “Are you frightened?” he asked.

“Heavens no! Just like to die I’m so eager for this!”

He shook his head and laughed. “You are supposed to be a little shy, at least.”

“You silly, wee man! I’ve lain naked with you while you kissed me right between the—”

“Shh!” He clapped his hand over her mouth.

Mary Kate laughed and pulled it away. “You said yourself, no one here speaks English. But if you’d like, I can say it in
Gaeilge
.”

“Do you know what you are?” Diego asked.

Mary Kate gave him a smile of pure, feminine pride. “
Desvergonzada
.”

“
Eres cosa llovida del cielo
.”

She pulled his head down to hers so she could kiss him. “A godsend? And here so many thought me the devil’s spawn.”

“You are only a little wicked.”

“Until tonight.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I have tamed you?”

She ran her hands over the front of his coat and tugged playfully at the waist of his breeches. “Ha! Tonight I intend to be very,
very
wicked.”

“
¡Caramba!
” he replied and walked faster.

They stopped and spoke to the innkeeper long enough to ask that a tray of cold meat and wine be brought to their room, and May Kate added bath water for good measure. It had been a long journey, and she wasn’t about to lie with her husband on their first night with the sweat of the road still on her.

The room they had rented was tiny. The bed took up the majority of it, but that hardly mattered. Tonight, the bed was by far the most important piece of furniture. There was also a small table with a lamp but no chairs. While Mary Kate brushed her hair and pinned it back up again, anticipating the water, Diego fetched clothes for the morning from her trunks in the stable. By the time he had returned, the bed was turned down, the food was sitting on the table, and the innkeeper and his wife were hauling in buckets of water and an old metal tub.

Mary Kate marveled at how quickly the water had heated, and the woman explained that it had been intended for her own use, but she had seen the two head to the church earlier. Having a strong suspicion as to what they were doing there, she was happily sacrificing her hot water. She also handed Mary Kate a bar of fine milled soap scented with lavender.

“
Go raibh maith agat
,” Mary Kate said with sincere gratitude, deeply touched by the woman’s thoughtfulness.

When they were alone, Diego reached to unfasten Mary Kate’s gown, but she brushed his hands away. “‘Tis filthy. I’ll not have you touch me ‘til I’m clean.”

Diego watched her fingers fly over her laces and felt a little bemused. He would have expected to spend his wedding night coaxing a shy maiden who hid under the covers and blushed, but he had to admit, it was not so terrible watching his new wife enthusiastically disrobe for him. He plucked a piece of mutton from the tray and fed it to her while she pushed her gown down over her hips, and he decided that he enjoyed that, as well. As she unfastened the ribbon on her shift, he held a cup of wine to her lips, and when a bit of it dripped over, he let it trickle down her throat before he licked it from her salty skin.

“Mmmm,” she murmured. “If you keep that up, the innkeeper’s wife will have given up her hot water for nothing.”

“Unthinkable,” Diego said. He slipped another bite of meat into her mouth and stood back to watch the shift slip down her body. While she finished undressing, he stripped off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. In the light of the lamp her skin glowed gold but for the tight, dusky tips of her breasts and the dark patch at the juncture of her thighs, and his thoughts drifted toward tasting all these, as well.

When she moved to pick up one of the buckets, Diego stopped her. He helped her into the metal tub, which was too small to sit in, so she had to stand. Then he lifted the bucket and let the water sluice over her, watching in fascination as it ran in rivulets over and between her breasts, across her stomach, and downward over her legs. Then he dunked his hands in the remaining water, picked up the soap, and worked up a rich lather in his hands.

Mary Kate closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation of warm water as it awakened every nerve in her body. Diego, his hands warm and slippery, went to work on her back, kneading away the strain of travel. Lavender wasn’t her chosen scent, but tonight it made her feel relaxed and calm. Soapy hands traveled down her ribs and cupped her buttocks, then slid over them sensuously, and she sighed in pure delight. On they moved, down her legs, lightly between her thighs, over her calves and upward again. Diego stopped and rinsed his hands in the water that had pooled in the bottom of the tub so he could lift the bucket again and rinse away the suds covering her back. She hadn’t even realized her damp skin had chilled until the warm water trickled over it again.

When he stepped in front of her she took his face between her wet hands and kissed him. She loved the taste of him, the way his tongue mated with hers and his mouth stole the breath from her. She could have kissed him until her skin was dry again, but he pulled away, fed her another bite, and began again on the front of her.

This time she kept her eyes wide open and preened at the heat in his gaze while his hands ran lather over her full breasts. With a contented purr, she reached her hands over her head and lifted her rib cage. She smiled when he whispered, “
Madre de Dios
,” and slid his hands upward over her raised arms, pressing close enough that the tips of her breasts left soapy, wet spots on his linen shirt.

He knelt before her, and she ran her hands through his dark hair while he soaped his hands again and caressed her stomach, hips, and thighs. Instinctively, she moved and parted her legs so his smooth fingers could wash her all the more intimately. The powerful sensation nearly made her knees buckle, and she moaned softly, steadying herself on his shoulders.

Diego stroked her soft, swelling flesh and looked up at her. Her head was bent toward him, but now her eyes were closed and her lips softly parted, and he felt torn between the desire to kiss her and to keep pleasuring her. But if he left the soap to dry on her skin, the pleasure would turn to irritation, so he stopped and rinsed her again, despite the very pretty pout she gave him.

Once she was clean and dry and her hair unpinned, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. He would have picked up where he had left off, but she sat up and tugged his shirt free of his breeches. Together, they rid him of his clothes, and he felt a surge of lust when he saw her eyes go wide at the sight of him. She reached out, grasped him, fascinated, and he guided her so she brought him the same pleasure that he had earlier given her. They kissed, touched, tasted, both eager for more but wanting it all to last. It occurred to Diego that shy, demure virgins were vastly overvalued.

Mary Kate loved the hard feel of his lean body, the mixture of satin smoothness and steely hardness of his sex. She feasted on the slightly salty taste of his skin and breathed the crisp scent of citrus that clung to him. She spread her legs for him and welcomed the touch of his hand, the invasion of his strong fingers.

“Tell me that you are mine,” he whispered as his caresses took her higher and higher.

“I am yours, always yours,” she gasped, just before she lost all thought, all sense of herself as being anything separate from him. She had hardly come back from that place when she felt him move over her, and it seemed completely natural to wrap her legs around him and guide him to her opening. He leaned down and kissed her even as he filled her below, stretching her and taking her back to hover at that tantalizing edge. When he stopped, she thought she would die.

“I do not want to hurt you,” he murmured.

Her voice was considerably louder. “Damn you, Diego Montoya, now!”

He thrust, and she gasped at the sudden stab of pain.

“I am so sorry—” he began, but she felt a need far more agonizing than any pain, and she ground her hips to his with a savage groan, heedless of another sharp stab.

Diego was lost. He captured her head between his hands and took her mouth with the same ferocity as he took her virginity, knowing by the way that she thrust in return that she could not be too hurt. He tore his mouth away, and she moaned words in a random mix of English, Spanish, and her own tongue, and when he felt her walls contract around him, he poured himself into her, his own voice joining hers.

He collapsed on top of her, and she went completely limp. The second loveliest feeling in the world, Mary Kate decided, was the feeling of a man’s dead weight on one’s sweat-drenched, sated body. She wiggled happily under him.

“Am I crushing you?” he asked, starting to lift himself.

“Don’t you dare!” she protested. She pulled him down and nipped his lower lip playfully.

He rested on his elbows so he could look at her, but left the rest of himself pressed against her warm body. “
Te quiero
.”

“Does that mean you want me, you love me, or you need me?” she asked.

“All three.”

“How lovely.” She moved her hips underneath him. “You’ll be getting very little sleep tonight,” she warned.

Mary Kate had a feeling of anticipation almost as intense as the one she had felt the night before as Diego and Salvador loaded her trunks into a boat to take them out to
Magdalena
. Salvador rowed that boat, while she and Diego climbed into the second. Looking around she muttered, “If you had a second set of oars, I could help.”

Diego gave her an affronted look. “You did not weaken me so much last night.”

She pulled a face at him. “Not because of that. Lord, I’ve never felt so full of energy in my life! I just want to get there faster, is all. I want to be at sea!”

Diego chuckled and started to row. “You are perfect.”

Mary Kate tossed her head. “Close enough, I am. But will you tell me you haven’t found a flaw or two?”

“You are shameless and brazen.”

“Flaws, Diego, you were supposed to be finding flaws.”

“Ah—flaws. I had forgotten. I look at you and see only your virtues.”

“I’m stubborn, and I have a dreadful temper.”

“A strong spirit,” he amended. “And besides, I may have a flaw or two of my own.”

Mary Kate snorted. “Only two?”

He lifted his brows. “There are more?”

“Well, to begin, you are insufferably proper.”

“Flaws, María Catalina, we are discussing flaws.”

“As I said, insufferably proper. And stuffy and formal.”

“You wound me. Are those not all the same flaw?”

“Oh, no, each is one on its own. But as far as I can tell, they’re easy enough to remedy.”

“Oh?”

“Aye, they all vanish if I’m naked.”

“Then you shall have to arrange to be naked often.”

“I shall.”

He looked at his ship, growing closer with every stroke. “But when you are clothed, perhaps a little decorum would not be too much to ask.”

Mary Kate’s voice softened. “Ah, so we’re on to my flaws after all.” When he would have protested, she raised her hand. “I’ll be living among your people, and having to learn your customs. I can do that. You forget, Diego, I can be anything I have to be.”

He stopped rowing for a moment. “María Catalina, if I had wanted a thoroughly Spanish wife, I would have married one. Be yourself.”

While he finished rowing, Mary Kate mulled the matter over in her mind. All her life she had had to dig in her heels to get what she wanted. She had it all, now. She had a fine husband and the wind and water and a lifetime of adventure ahead of her. It wouldn’t always be easy, and there would be times that her strong will would stand her in good stead, but it seemed she might be able to be soft now and again, as well. It was a comforting thought.

They stayed in the boat while it was hauled back up to the deck, and Galeno gave her an enthusiastic welcome. To her surprise, she was also introduced to Diego’s handsome younger brother, Rico. One look into his dark eyes said the lad was full of the devil, and her new husband had his hands full. Though she knew she should probably sort through her things and get settled permanently into Diego’s cabin, she hated to miss heading out to sea and watching the coast disappear. As the island began to fade, an unexpectedly sharp sadness pierced her. She wished she could have said goodbye to her family. She had said it when she had moved to Londonderry, but there had been promises of visits. She would miss the birth of Bridget’s child.

“Can we come back someday?” she asked Diego.

He nodded. “It was an easy enough matter to make port in Carndonagh. We can send word to them to meet us.”

The tight feeling in her chest loosened a little. “It will be far off any course you might follow.” Then she smiled. “But then, it will be your ship.”

Diego looked a little grim. “Not for a while, yet. I have taken us far off course in this voyage, and it has cost me. I have paid for the extra supplies we took on in Carndonagh from my own funds, and we will be paid less in Cartagena because we will be quite late. It is only right that I compensate my crew with what money I do make. It will be a while yet before
Magdalena
is mine.”