Surrender to Love (15 page)

Well, it would never happen again.  Trust was something she could do without; all it had given
her was heartache and trouble.  She needed no one but herself.  No family.  No friends.  Nothing.

The clock in the hall patiently chimed eight.  Three more hours,
she thought distractedly.  Three more hours until Rosa turned in for the night and the house was quiet.  Three more hours until she would enjoy the true taste of freedom; when the Cuban countryside would swallow her up without a trace and she would begin anew.

“I see you have made yourself quite comfortable.  This is good.”

Sabine felt herself pale, and the acidy bitterness of fear roiled in her stomach.  Determination drained from her as every muscle in her body slumped in defeat and tears of frustration welled in her eyes.  But she didn’t even care about them.  Her plans, her dreams.  They had all crumbled into nothingness with the utterance of those words.

Colón lounged casually in the doorway, a sardonic smile twisting his dark features as he rested one hand arrogantly on his hip.
  Paralyzed, she remained where she sat, her heart beating with wild intensity.  She was trapped, cornered like some wild animal he wanted to tame.

“I was told you wouldn’t be returning until tomorrow,” she informed him steadily, her gaze never leaving the dark maliciousness of his eyes.

“I changed my mind,” he said, his voice lowering dangerously.  “Besides, Juana is tedious.”

Entering the room slowly, cautiously, he knelt down beside her.  And Sabine waited, her heart racing as she watched warily out of the corner of her eye; but
Colón made no attempt to reach out for her.

“Why do I frighten you, Sabine?” he asked in a husky voice.  “I will not hurt you.”

Liar!  She wanted to scream, and then beat him as he had beaten her.  She wanted to inflict the hurt, see the bruises.  Why didn’t he leave her alone?  Juana was more than happy to submit to him.  So why her?  Why did he constantly pursue her instead?

“I won’t play your games,” Sabine said firmly as she stood.  As she turned to leave, a steel grip latched onto her arm and the door slammed in her face. 

“I will not tolerate your insolent behavior any longer,” he snarled.  “You are going to learn to obey me, and you are going to learn tonight.”

Forcing her to him, Col
ón’s fingers dug harshly into her flesh, probing, demanding she submit.  No, her brain cried out as she thrashed wildly, kicking out at him with all her strength.  He would not brand her again with his violence.

“Let go of me,” she screamed as she wrested from his grip and bolted for the door.

Colón dragged her back to him and clamped a hand roughly over her mouth.

“You will be quiet,” he growled as he shoved her harshly on the bed, “and do as I say.”

He crushed her with his weight and lowered his mouth savagely upon her, bruising and violating the gentle curve of her throat.  And she struggled, twisting and fighting with every ounce of strength she had as she let loose screams of panic.  Colón ignored her pleas with cold indifference, and he planted a knee on either side of her hips, savagely tearing at the fragile cotton of her blouse.

”Stop it,” her panicked voice entreated frantically as she made a futile attempt to cover herself.  “Don’t do this.”

A sob rose in her throat.  Oh, dear Lord, she didn’t want this to happen.  Please…please don’t let it happen.

“You are more beautiful than I had imagined,” he commented appraisingly through gritted teeth as he ran a hand over her exposed breasts.  “
Now, you be a good girl, Sabine.  I will show you things you never dreamed of.”

Her protests turned to sobs as Manuel
Colón slid the thin cotton skirt up her thighs and unfastened his trousers.  His manhood strained obscenely toward the juncture of her thighs as he began to lower himself on her.  He wanted her.  He wanted her to pay dearly for defying him and denying everything that was rightfully his.

Señor
Colón,” came Rosa’s urgent request outside the door as she knocked frantically.  “I do not want to bother you – “

Colón
jerked up his head and let out a string of curses in his native tongue.

“What is it, Rosa?” he spat viciously.  “Can you not see that I am busy?”

“Yes,” came the nervous reply, “but Luís Roderigues is in the library.  He says he must see you now.  It is of great importance.”

Colón released an agitated breath. 
If it had been anyone else, he would have instructed Rosa to send him away; this girl needed to be taught a lesson for her insolence.  He did not have time for interruptions.

But it was
Luís Roderigues, and he would not be denied an audience.  He controlled much of the land in this province and was undoubtedly the wealthiest of men.  To refuse him would be an insult.

Colón shot a murderous glance at Sabine, w
ho lay huddled on the bed, her breasts rising and falling to the rhythm of her ragged breathing.  He would show her.  When he returned, she would know who was the master here.

“
Señor
Colón?”

“
Sí
, Rosa,” he called out angrily as he yanked on his jacket.  “I am coming.”

He slammed the door behind him forcefully, and the sound of it reverberated in Sabine’s ears.

A flood of racking sobs enveloped her, slowly pushing aside the fear and tension that filled her.  So close he had come…and she didn’t even want to imagine what might have happened if Rosa had not come to the door.  He had seen her…touched her…made her feel as though she were nothing more than a whore.

And her plans – her wonderful, beautiful plans for escape and freedom – sank into the depths of her despair.  She would never leave her
e.  She was trapped…forever.

XXX

Luís Roderigues pulled a
cigarrito
from the ornate case he stored in his inside jacket pocket and touch a lit match to its tip. Drawing a deep breath on it, he sized up the man who leaned against the decorative fireplace mantel.

He despised Manuel
Colón, and would never have considered coming here if it hadn’t been for Michael.  Colón’s reputation was that of a ruthless tyrant who would do anything for money and power; a disgrace to all Spaniards who lived in this province.

But the news his friend shared this afternoon
had not rested well with him.  Colón’s new girl was an American – and more than likely not truly a slave either; the girl was well-spoken, probably educated, from what Michael had told him.  And Luís was here at his request to make an offer for her; to get her out of Colón’s control and make sure she could go somewhere she’d be safe.

“I hear you have a most beautiful house girl,”
Luís told Colón smoothly in his native Spanish.

Colón grinned wide and
took a long drink of his brandy.

“
Sí. 
Good news must travel fast. She
is
very beautiful.”

“Would you be interested in selling her?”

Colón twisted the ruby ring on his left hand and smiled smugly to himself.  So that was what this whole visit was about.  He should have known that Roderigues would not be here for simply a social call.

Of course, it would be beneath him, he thought sarcas
tically.  A mere
criollo
would not be worthy of his notice.  It did not matter that Colón’s father had been a confidant of the king, or that Colón had spent much of his growing up years in Spain.  All the Cuban aristocracy saw was a colonial-born Spaniard; a commoner beneath their notice.

And now
Luís Roderigues wanted something from him; that was certainly not something he had seen every day.  Well, after the scorn he had shown him all these years, he would not bow to Roderigues now.  He’d be damned before he let him have his way.

“She is not for sale.”

Luís rubbed at his bushy moustache impatiently and flicked his spent ashes into a nearby tray.

“I will pay you twice what she is worth.”

“She is not for sale,” Colón repeated firmly, a self-satisfied smile tugging at his mouth as he set down a decanter.  “Is there anything else?”

“No,” he replied,
his stare hard upon Colón’s face.  “I want her, and every man has his price.  Remember, if I do not get my way, I can ruin you if I choose.”

Colón said nothing, but he veiled his nervousness at
Roderigues’s words as he drew a long breath on the
cigarrito
he held; his jaw tightened with self-loathing as he watched his fingers tremble.  He knew the man was not to be crossed.  What Roderigues wanted, Roderigues usually received.

As
Luís opened the door in preparation to leave, he turned  back to Colón, his dark eyes filled with open hostility.

“Remember who wields the most power in La Habana province, Colón.  Forgetting may prove to be your downfall.”

I cannot help but remember, Colón thought as he stared at the rich mahogany of the closed library door.  You have never given me an opportunity to do otherwise.

He stared intently into his snifter of brandy, and a laugh rose from him as the great scheme he concocted in his head took shape. 
Luís Roderigues might think he could control everyone in his reach, but not him…not Manuel Colón.

Roderigues
would never get the girl as long as he had enough breath to fight.  Tonnight Colón would get rid of her.  He would finally win against those aristocrats who had tried to keep him down for so long. And he would be on top for once; then he’d see who would be the most powerful man in all of Cuba.

Chapter Ten

It wouldn’t go away.

No matter how hard or long Sabine scrubbed, the repulsive feeling of being unclean remained firmly ground into her skin.  He had touched her, made her feel so dirty that she never thought she’d be whole again.

Angrily, impatiently, she paced the room, hugging herself tightly against the sick feeling that twisted in her stomach.  Rage seared her soul and burned her heart until she no longer felt the brand of his humiliation.

Then suddenly, violently, she twisted and grabbed hold of the water pitcher and flung it across the room with a heated scream; its shards scattered recklessly across the floor.

“I hate you,” she shouted heatedly at the top of her lungs as she turned and shattered the mirror behind her.  “I hate you and everything you stand for!”

She threw the door open, its resounding bang clattering in her ears as she raced into the hallway, heart pounding, blood racing.  She was leaving. It didn’t matter what anybody did or said, she was leaving this godforsaken place far behind her this very instant.

And no one would ever harm her again.

Fighting the urge to tear through the house
with the screeching wails of a banshee, she stole secretively down the back stairwell and into the shadowy confines of the kitchen.  She needed some bread, or perhaps a hunk of that cheese Rosa had stored in the pantry.  That would keep her until –

“
Querida.”

Rosa’s voice whispered in the darkness, and Sabine spun to face her.  Worried lines creased her features as her hands rested in a gnarled knot upon the worn wood of the kitchen table.

“I’m leaving,” Sabine told her flatly as she wrapped the bread in a clean cloth.  “And you can’t stop me.”

“I know.”

“Neither can Colón.”

“
Señor
Colón has left,” Rosa said after a pause.  “He has gone back to Havana.”

“He can go to hell for all I care.”

“You must go now.  Run far – to
Señor
Pierson, if you can,” she continued stiffly as she examined her hands intently.  “He lives far from here.  Maybe ten miles or so. Due west.”

“I don’t need a man,” Sabine said pointedly as she opened the door.

“He will help you,” Rosa said, rising.

“I don’t need anybody.”

Rosa caught Sabine’s arm as she stepped out into the darkness.

“He will be good for you,” she assured as her dark, troubled eyes locked Sabine’s gaze.  “May God speed you to safety,” she said, squeezing the girl’s hands securely.  “
Señor
Colón will not discover your disappearance until morning.  You will be far from here by then.”

“Thank you.”

Sabine hugged the older woman tightly and darted into the cover of the night.  She was finally free.  Free to run.  Free to leave this place, this life, far behind.

And run she would until Rosa had the opportunity to change her mind
and turn traitor to her scheme.

Gathering her torn blouse around her, Sabine stealthily made her way past the quiet, white-washed
barracones
that housed the fieldhands.  A dog barked out a warning in the darkness, and Sabine flattened herself against the flaking clapboard of one of the buildings, her heart leaping spasmodically in her throat as she held her breath expectantly.