Sun God (16 page)

Amy could not see him, but the heat of his body was so fierce, she was keenly aware that he was standing directly behind her.

Very, very close.

Hearing his calm, even breathing just above her right ear, Amy instantly knew that it was the Indian. She envisioned the tall, lean warrior as he had been at the river. Half naked and highly dangerous.

Despite the tightness of her throat and the pounding of her heart, Amy summoned up all her reserves of spirit and strength.

“Who in God’s name are you?” she said with as much authority as she could muster. “What do you want? I demand an answer!”

Her answer, when finally it came, was a low, masculine laugh followed immediately by a hand placed on the collar of her yellow-and-white calico dress.

Amy swallowed hard and her entire body lurched reflexively when long fingers brazenly curled down inside her white collar, warm fingers that brushed her flesh almost caressingly. The palms of her trussed hands began to perspire with nervous anticipation and dread. Again she was rendered speechless as she stood staring into the blinding rays of the hot, dying sun while the savage’s fingers curled around her collar.

But she screamed at the top of her lungs when those strong fingers gave her collar a brutal yank, ripping the fabric. She tried to pull away, arching her back, her toes barely touching the dust and gravel as she fought desperately to avoid his frightening touch.

It did no good.

Effortlessly he tore the back of her calico dress apart clear to her waist, then pushed aside the ruined garment, unmoved by her screams or the violent trembling of her slender body. Amy’s horror escalated when she heard the silk of her chemise being ripped away, leaving her back completely bare and exposed.

She spasmed in uncontrollable terror when her mysterious tormentor trailed his forefinger slowly down her naked back, from the nape of her neck to her waistline. Her skin turned cold from his hot touch.

Then, miraculously, he left her.

For a minute.

He strolled away. Back to his waiting horse. When he returned, he slowly circled around in front of Amy, allowing her to at last get a good, long look at him. Shaking like a leaf in the wind, Amy stared, transfixed. Just as she’d done at the river.

Tall. Lean. Thick raven hair. Mean black eyes. High, slanting cheekbones. White scar slashing down his left cheek. The gold and turquoise bracelet on his right wrist.

It
was
the Indian!

But his thick blue-black hair did not hang loose around his dark, chiseled face. It was secured with a narrow white leather band at the back of his neck. And he was not naked; the skimpy breechcloth had been replaced with a captain’s dress uniform!

Pale blue, perfectly tailored tunic stretching across wide shoulders, the brass buttons glittering in the fading desert sunlight. Crisp white trousers hugged his lean flanks and hard, muscular thighs. Tall, gleaming black boots reached to his knees.

Booted feet apart, he stood directly before Amy, the attitude of his tall body suggesting supreme arrogance. In his dark right hand he loosely held a coiled whip. His narrowed black gaze silently commanded Amy to raise her eyes to meet his.

At last she did, though she trembled with fear.

And when their gazes collided, his hard mouth stretched into an evil smile and the long vicious scar on his cheek pulled and flashed starkly white against the darkness of his face. As he smiled he idly tapped the coiled black lash against his hard-muscled thigh, a gesture that further unnerved Amy.

Clenching her teeth to keep them from chattering, Amy stared up at the tall, strange man with frightened, questioning eyes. Purposely tormenting her, he stood for a long, silent time, backlit by the fading sun, rhythmically slapping the whip against his leg.

When at last he spoke, it was in a voice low and rich.

“My soldiers address me as El Capitán. You knew me by another name.” Puzzled, Amy shook her head in denial as she stared at him. Again he smiled. “Ah, Amy, Amy, so you’ve forgotten? Then allow me to refresh your memory.”

Deftly he flipped open the brass buttons going down the center of his tunic. When the blue jacket fell open, Amy caught a glimpse of a heavy gold medallion resting on his dark, hairless chest and felt all the air leave her body.

In one fluid masculine movement, he shrugged out of the uniform blouse and released it to the dusty ground. Swiftly he pivoted around to show her his scarred back, compliments of her brothers. And her.

“Tonatiuh!” Amy gasped in stunned disbelief. He spun about to face her, his dark face as ungiving as stone.

“No!” he said, his voice as deadly cold as his face. “Never call me that again. Only those I love and trust may use my Aztec name. To you I am El Capitán Luiz Quintano.”

“No, no,” Amy murmured, tears filling her eyes, clogging her throat. “You are Tonatiuh! Dear God, you’re alive. Oh, Tonatiuh, I thought you were—”

“Dead?” he interrupted. “I’m sure you did, Mrs. Parnell. You and your loving brothers did your best, but—”

“No, no,” Amy repeated, shaking her head. “Tonatiuh, you must let me explain.”

“There is nothing to explain, Mrs. Parnell,” said Luiz, and again he tapped the coiled whip against his leg.

Crying openly now, Amy said, “Y-yes, there is … there is. I—I had to do it, I had to. … ”

“Had to?” he interrupted. His jaw hardened and his eyes were like black shards of glass. “You had to what? Make love to me and then humiliate me? Have me whipped and left for dead in the desert? Marry the man you’d been seeing behind my back?”

“No, no. There was no one but you, Tonatiuh,” she cried, her face blood red with emotion. “I swear it. Only you, but my brothers … they would have killed you—”

“Killed me?” he said fiercely, silencing her. “You are the guilty one, Mrs. Parnell. You killed the young, foolish boy who worshipped you. He is dead!” He looked at her and in his black eyes was such naked hatred Amy knew that nothing she could do would change what he believed or the way he felt about her.

She tried all the same, but it was no use. At last, shaking her head, she sadly murmured, “Oh, my dearest, I saved your life but lost your love.”

“You lost a foolish boy’s love. I am not that boy. I am El Capitán Luiz Quintano and a stranger to you.”

Her tear-filled eyes sweeping over the planes of his hard, hawklike face, searching in vain for the dear, boyish countenance of the young Tonatiuh, Amy said softly, “I have known you all of my life.”

“You don’t know me at all,” he said coldly.

With that he uncoiled the long black bullwhip and quickly moved around in back of her. Expecting to feel the flesh-ripping blow from the whip any second, Amy gritted her teeth and resolutely stared at the flaming horizon, the fiery skyline undulating before her tear-blurred vision.

For a long, silent time they stood unmoving, bathed in the sun’s blood-red glow. She with raised, bound wrists and naked back and aching heart. He behind her, whip in hand, black eyes locked on the delicate ivory back, vulnerably bare and appealingly pinkened by the desert’s dying light.

Luiz lifted the whip high. And bought it singing down. Amy instinctively flinched when it cracked, kissing the air not an inch from her naked back. Her breath erupted in choking sobs and she wept uncontrollably when suddenly Luiz sailed the evil-looking lash away, took a sharp knife from the waistband of his white trousers, and cut the rope holding her.

Her bound wrists fell before her and, jerking with fear and emotion, Amy swayed and almost fell. Luiz caught her and pulled her to him. Holding her back against him while his arms encircled her, he cut the punishing rope bindings from her reddened wrists. Her hands fell to her sides and once again the two stood unmoving. He behind her, feeling the trembling and softness of her slender body against him. She leaning wearily on him for support, the heat and hardness of his tall, lean frame totally foreign to her.

Luiz lifted her up into his arms and carried her to his waiting horse. He sat her across the saddle and swung up behind her, immediately touching his bootheels to the black stallion’s flanks. The big mount shot away and Amy, her cheek cradled against Luiz’s hard, bare chest, continued to sob, her tears wetting his dark flesh.

He took her straight to the hacienda.

When they arrived at the house, Mexican soldiers loitering on the grounds wisely averted their eyes as their bare-chested commanding officer, El Capitán, dismounted before the big adobe mansion and carried the beautiful blond woman up the long front walk and disappeared inside.

The big house was quiet.

In the dimly lighted downstairs corridor, the pair encountered no one. All was silent in the hacienda. Luiz paused only a moment in the brick-floored hallway. He gazed hurriedly about, then climbed the stairs with Amy in his arms. At the second-story landing, he decisively turned to the west wing and headed straight for the master suite. The suite Amy had years ago taken as her own.

With sure purpose, Luiz walked into the suite and kicked the heavy door closed behind him. He crossed the spacious room to the tall double doors thrown open to the gentle April breeze and stopped. He stood there holding Amy in his arms, as if in a deep trance, staring fixedly into the dying sun while its paling glow tinted them both a vivid lavender.

Amy’s sobs had stopped. The tears had dried on her hot cheeks. Drained, she wanted nothing more than to have this tall, cruel man leave her immediately. She wanted him out of her sight, now and forever. He had been right when he said she didn’t know him. She didn’t know this man at all and she didn’t want to know him. He was a heartless stranger and she was deathly afraid of him. And yet …

Her swollen eyes on the magnificent Sun Stone resting on the stranger’s dark chest, Amy braced a hand against his shoulder and squirmed to be free.

Luiz came out of his trancelike state.

A muscle jumping in his rigid jaw, he lowered his gaze to Amy and felt his belly tighten.

He said, looking pointedly at her throat and delicate white shoulders, “Not even I, a murderous savage, could bear scarring such perfection. But perhaps another form of punishment is suggested.”

L
UIZ HEARD HER CATCH
her breath and knew that she was genuinely afraid of him. In his arms her slender body stiffened and the soft hand pushing on his shoulder increased its pressure as she struggled to be free. Her aversion to him was no surprise, nor was it a deterrent. In truth, the fact that this cold, deceitful woman despised and feared him heightened his desire to possess her beautiful body.

He looked into those familiar blue eyes and for an instant there was a chilling flash of memory—tied up, helpless, lashed, and laughed at by the young girl he had loved more than his own life. The vivid recollection turned Luiz’s black gaze icy-hot. He bent his dark head and kissed Amy forcefully, his mouth hard and brutal upon her soft, trembling lips.

Fully realizing his intention. Amy tried vainly to free her lips from his. She turned her head from side to side and with her fists she beat on his back and shoulders. But his hot commanding mouth remained fused with hers as he slowly lowered her feet to the floor. As soon as her toes touched the deep beige carpet, Luiz pulled Amy roughly against his tall, hard body, holding her effortlessly to him with one muscular arm around her waist.

His blazing kiss continued, a deep, invasive kiss of such blatant intimacy Amy felt as if her entire body was being violated. His wet, silky tongue was plunging deep inside her mouth. Amy was overwhelmed and terrified by such fierce animal power and passion.

When at last his cruel mouth freed her bruised lips, it took Amy an instant to regain her lost breath and collect her scattered wits. Reason returning, she swiftly lifted a trembling hand and gave his scarred cheek such a stinging slap the sound was like a pistol shot in the quiet, shadowy room.

“You can’t do this to me! I will not allow it!” she shouted loudly, pulling away and reaching frantically for the low-riding bodice of her torn dress.

Luiz lifted a hand and rubbed his tingling jaw, the expression in his eyes still that unsettling combination of coldness and heat. Those strange, hypnotic eyes watched detachedly as Amy edged cautiously around him, moving behind him. Luiz did not turn. He remained as he was, standing before the balcony doors, rubbing his face.

Her heart drumming with excitement and hope, Amy hurriedly crossed the room to the door. When her fingers wrapped themselves around the gleaming brass knob, she could hardly keep a triumphant shout of relief from escaping her lips. Anxiously she turned the knob and yanked open the heavy door.

She was as good as free!

At that instant a pair of strong, dark hand slipped quickly around her waist, beneath the ruined dress, and Amy was too surprised even to scream as those capturing hands met in front and the fingers laced tightly together over her bare midriff.

Unceremoniously she was pulled back inside the room and the door was again kicked closed by Luiz’s booted foot. Holding her to him, he said calmly, “I can do anything I please to you, Mrs. Parnell. And anything is exactly my intention.”

His long fingers came unlaced. His hands moved up to cup and lift her bare, quivering breasts. When his palms settled warmly over the soft, satiny crests, Amy’s fear fled and her fiery spirit fully surfaced.

No man could ride back into her life after ten years and mete out this base brand of punishment. She was no spineless young innocent to be bullied nor jaded harlot to be casually used.

Furious, Amy half turned in his embrace, whipped her head around, and sank her sharp teeth into Luiz’s bare shoulder, biting him viciously. He made no sound, but his hands released her breasts and Amy immediately spun all the way around to face him. She was livid and at just that moment wouldn’t have been afraid of the devil himself. She most certainly was not afraid of El Capitán Luiz Quintano.

Her face red with rage, her teeth bared like an animal’s, she shouted at him, “I will kill you before I allow you to rape me!”