The Spanish Outlaw (20 page)

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Authors: Marie Higgins

BOOK: The Spanish Outlaw
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“I’ll miss you,” she said, her voice breaking.

“And I will miss you.”

She rose on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his. Anton’s arms tightened around her, and he kissed her with great urgency. As quickly as it began, he stopped and rested his forehead against hers, his breath ragged with pent-up emotion.


Querida
,” he said breathless, “before you leave, I must tell you something.”

“What?”

“It is something I have been withholding from you for a couple of weeks.”

Her heart dropped. She didn’t want to hear bad news now. Not before she left him forever. “What is it?”

He looked into her eyes and smiled. “Strange, how others have noticed the way I feel before I realized it myself, but it seems you are not the only one who has fallen in love.”

She held her breath, and her heart picked up rhythm. Tears swam in her eyes again, but for different reasons this time. Happiness filled every inch of her soul, making her want to sing—a
nd cry at the same time. “You love me?”

He nodded.


. I think I fell in love with you that very first night we met.”

“Anton.” She sobbed, and a tear trickled down her cheek. She buried her face into his chest and relished the few earth-shattering moments before they were torn apart.

“Please forgive me for not saying it sooner.” He chuckled lightly. “I, too, am very stubborn.”

She lifted her face and smiled. “I love you, Anton.”

He crushed his mouth over hers for a kiss so wonderful that she wanted to stay in his arms forever. She had almost forgotten about the other person in the room until a loud knock sounded at the door. She jumped, and Anton’s arms tightened around her.

“Who is it?” Anton called out.

“It’s Captain Bushwell.”

Anton sighed, placed another sweet kiss on her lips, and pulled away. “It is time for you to go.”

She nodded, tears slipping from her eyes again. Using the back of her hand, she wiped them away.

The cabin boy opened the door. When the captain looked at
Vivian, he nodded. “Your disguise will work, but you better splash water on your face to get rid of your swollen eyes…and lips.”

Vivian
hurried to the washbasin and did as she was told. When she turned back to the other men, she squared her shoulders and held herself strong. “I’m ready.”

Anton came to her and held her hands. Smooth skin rubbed against hers, causing warmth to spread through her.

“I will return for you. I promise.”

She gave him a weak smile. “Now that I know how you feel, I will wait forever if I have to.”

He kissed her again, and let her go. On stiff legs, she made herself move beside the captain. As they walked out of the room, she forced herself not to look back. If she did, she’d run into Anton’s arms. Although her tears threatened to spill again, she took deep breaths to keep her emotions from showing.

“I must admit,” the captain said after about five minutes, “you could pass for my cabin boy. If you’d like to stay in disguise until we’re halfway through our voyage, I’ll let you.
Just a precaution, of course.”

She chuckled and swung her attention to him. “And will you expect me to clean your room, bathe, and dress you, too?”

“No, of course not. I’m only thinking about protecting you, Miss Wentworth.”

“Thank you. I’ll definitely consider your most tempting offer.”

He scratched his chin as his gaze wandered over her in a slow inspection. “You know, if you kept your hair covered, you could go unnoticed in this country for a very long time.”

Suddenly, an idea jumped into her mind. “Indeed?”

He shrugged. “Possibly. I’m certain that if you remain wearing boy’s clothes, your identity will be well hidden, also.”

Slowly a smile spread across her lips. Whether the captain knew it or not, he’d just given her a way to stay and continue to help Anton. He might not like it at first, but after the ship sailed without her, he would have no other choice but to allow her to remain to help him.

Two heads definitely work better than one. Didn’t the detective agency teach her that?

Chapter Fourteen

 

Anton stayed in his room until the early morning hours. The sun had not yet made its debut, and this time of the day gave him
a great head start on his uncle. The first thing on Anton’s agenda was to search for his nanny—his
niňera
. Her testimony would certainly help prove his identity.

He dressed all in black, knowing this would help him move freely through town without being noticed. In haste, he removed his clothes from the trunk and stuffed them in a small satchel with a long leather strap, perfect for carrying. If, by chance, his uncle’s men searched through this room,
they would find an empty trunk.

As he made a last inspection, a garment hanging over a chair caught his eye. The cloak belonged to
Vivian. Her sweet jasmine scent drifted from the material to his nose. Inhaling deeply sparked memories of their times together. Her love for him showed in every touch, every kiss, and every caress.

His heart twisted, and a knot formed in his throat.
Díos
, he missed her, and it hadn’t even been eight hours. They hadn’t been apart this long since they’d met, and his arms ached to hold her again.

Cursing his weakened state, he folded the garment and gently placed it in his satchel on top of his clothes. First, he’d get the information needed to confirm his identity to the King of Spain, have his uncle arrested, and then sail to America to claim the woman he loved.

He smiled. And then…he’d ask her to marry him.

Instead of using the door to leave, he opened the window and climbed out.
The peaceful pre-dawn morning made him hesitate, not wanting to disturb the chirping crickets or belching frogs near the seaside.

As his feet hit the ground, he stilled, listening for anything out of the ordinary. Once the early morning sounds picked up again, he crept along the shadows, glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone followed. After about a mile, he relaxed, knowing his uncle’s men had not been hiding by the hotel. And if they were, they were still there.

Cautiously, he walked along the road, watching closely so he didn’t step on anything that made a noise or kicked a rock by accident. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted an old farmer’s
sombrero
lying on the side of the road. He stopped, glanced both ways to see if anyone watched, then bent and picked it up. After close inspection, he dusted it and placed it on his head. This helped to shield the glare when the sun made its appearance in another hour.

As he passed an orchard, he spied fresh red apples dangling from the trees. His mouth watered and
his stomach growled. He’d skipped breakfast, and the last meal he’d eaten was with Vivian.

He jumped the fence, hurried to the nearest tree, and snatched the fruit. Sinking his teeth into it, he sighed aloud while the sweet juice trickled down his chin.

It’d been a long time since he’d been fence hopping in orchards to steal food. As a boy, he and his friend would sneak away from Anton’s
niňera
and rob their neighbors of whatever fruits were in season. He chuckled softly from the memory and picked a few more apples for later, stuffing them into the pockets of his jacket before he continued on his way.

The farther he walked, the greener the land became. A rush of contentment overwhelmed him, and he smiled. Spain was in his blood, and no matter how far he traveled, this would always be home. From his calculations, the next town was only a few miles away. If his
niňera
lived the same place he remembered, he was within hours of finding her, and his heart yearned to see her once again.

The sounds from farm animals in the pasture he passed intensified as the sun hovered in the sky, announcing its awakening. It had seemed a lifetime since he enjoyed the refreshing sounds of farm life. He observed the large barn, the owner and his two young sons wearily moving about the yard, throwing feed to the animals as they hid yawns behind their hands. They glanced at him as he passed.
He acknowledged them with a wave.

It seemed strange when one of the boys kept moving his attention to something
behind Anton. The little boy’s neck stretched to get a better look, and curious, Anton glanced over his shoulder in hopes of seeing what caught the boy’s interest. At first, he didn’t see anything, but soon he noticed the shadowy figure hiding behind a tree.

Anton’s gut clenched, and he balled his hands into fists. Had someone been following him since he’d left the hotel? If so, why hadn’t he noticed it before now? Prickles danced over his skin, making the hairs on the back of his neck rise in alarm.

Acting as if he didn’t see, he continued on his way, this time his ears alerted him with the different sounds. Once he passed the farm, he slowed his pace, hoping to give the stranger enough time to catch up. The loaded pistol anchored in the waistband of his trousers eased him slightly. He patted the weapon for reassurance. He’d not hesitate to kill any man that stepped in his way of reclaiming his inheritance and taking back his life.

The clump of trees to his left were the perfect place to hide, so without hesitation, he quickened his step and crept through the thicket, searching for a tree large enough to hide him. When he found one, he flatted himself against it, watched, and waited.

Leaves rustled on the ground as the light wind teased them, making it harder to listen for footsteps. Even the birds’ singing gnawed at his nerves. Couldn’t they keep quiet for five minutes?

A twig snapped. He withdrew his
pistol. Unease washed over him, but he kept calm, ready to pounce at first chance. When the crunch of leaves disturbed the field, his scalp tingled with fear. The sound grew closer.

Anton held his breath until he spotted the figure not more than ten feet away. The sun glared in his eyes, not allowing him to see the person. But from what he could see, the stranger, a lad, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, crept past, darting behind one tree to the next.

Without revealing himself, Anton studied the boy. Also dressed in black, the boy’s clothes practically hung on his slender frame, his hair and face concealed by the wide-brim
sombrero.
Anton breathed easier knowing this mere boy would be easy to deal with. He replaced the pistol in his trousers.

Should he let the boy wander through the trees until he disappeared, or should Anton pounce on him and force some response from the lad? Anton knew that answer. He had to know why the boy followed. Did he work for Uncle
Juanito?

Once the boy turned his back, Anton jumped and wrapped his arms around the slender frame like bands of steel as he pushed both of them to the ground. The moment they hit the earth, a painful high-pitched cry came from the young boy. Beneath Anton’s hands, the softly curved body became noticeable.

A woman?

Quickly turning the stranger over on her back, Anton pinned her to the ground, holding the thin shoulders down.

When the
sombrero
rolled off her head, cascades of black hair fanned the ground. Wide eyes surrounded by dark lashes flashed at him. He sucked in a quick breath and cursed.

A sheepish grin appeared on her face. “Good morning, Anton.”

It took a full minute for it to register, and when he finally realized Vivian was really lying beneath him, his anger kindled. He rolled off and jerked up to a sitting position.

“What are you doing?”
he practically yelled. “You are supposed to be on the ship.”

She gave a half-shoulder shrug as she sat next to him. “I changed my mind.”

Cursing again, he squeezed his eyes closed, quickly thinking of how he’d get her back on the ship. Impossible. The ship was probably ten hours away.

The touch of her hand on his face made him open his eyes. A soft smile graced her face as she caressed his cheek. “Aren’t you even a little bit pleased to see me?”

Try as he might, he couldn’t stop the happiness from expanding in his chest. He grinned. “I ought to be very annoyed with you for deceiving me. In fact, I may never forgive you.”

Both of her hands wound around his neck and pulled his face to hers. “But you’ll kiss me, instead, won’t you?” she asked before touching her mouth to his.

Immediately, the kiss turned wild as he pushed her back to the ground. He slid his fingers through her silky hair as he met her demanding mouth.

With a growl, he tore his mouth from hers. This was definitely not the place to
become intimate. “Vivian, we cannot do this here.” He breathed in slower.

She kissed his jaw. “I missed you, too,” she said with a light laugh in her voice.

He smiled. “I really ought to reprimand you for what you did.”

“I’d rather be here with you than on the ship with the captain. I figured you needed me more than he did.”

He glanced at her hair and groaned, rubbing her locks between his fingers. “What have you done to your beautiful hair?”

“I colored it. Do you like it?”

“I prefer the other color,
querida.

“So do I, but this color doesn’t stand out. Now I won’t be spotted as an American so easily.”

He shook his head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Love me.”

He brushed tender kisses over her mouth. “You know I do.”

“Let me be with you.”

“You know I cannot.”

“No, you just won’t.”

“And you know why.”

“Because of your uncle.”


Sí.

“But Anton, I’m safer with you. I trust you’ll not let anything happen to me.”

He nuzzled his face against her neck. “

. I will kill anybody who tries to hurt you.”

Her fingers played with his hair, and heated tingles shot through his body from her gentle touch.

“We make a great pair, I think,” she said.

Pulling back, he gazed into her shadowed eyes, warm with desire. “We make a wonderful pair.”

“So, can I come with you? Please?”

He chuckled. “It would be foolish of me to turn you away now.”

She laughed and kissed him again, this time keeping it tender and passionate. His body relaxed, and it satisfied him to just savor her taste, the feel of her, and those caressing fingers moving over his neck and around to cup his face.

They really shouldn’t do this here, his mind reasoned. Then again…
they were alone in the group of trees, out of sight from anyone who happened to pass by and far enough away from the main road to be noticed.

He kissed her harder, enjoying the closeness they shared,
but behind him came quick footsteps, crunching in the leaves and breaking twigs along the path. Fast as lightning, he jumped to his feet. Clumsily, he withdrew his pistol, wishing her drugging kisses hadn’t affected him so.

He aimed the revolver toward the sound and tightened his hand on the butt, praying to the Almighty it wasn’t one of his uncle’s men.

* * * *

When the stranger made an appearance, confusion washed over
Vivian, and she blinked. A woman stood in the sunlight, wearing a plain brown gown with her hair pulled back in a knot. Familiar eyes gazed down at Vivian, and she gasped.

“Mother?”

The older woman’s eyes widened, but she rushed to Vivian and grabbed her arm. “You and Anton must hurry.
Señor
Ballì’s men are not far behind me.”

Vivian
’s heart hammered to a different rhythm. Panic surged through her as she stood, embarrassment burning her cheeks. What could her mother be thinking right now? Then again, did it really matter? From what her father had told Vivian, Eleanor Wentworth knew a lot about passion.

Anton picked up the
sombrero
and stuffed it on Vivian’s head. “Tuck your hair inside,” he commanded before grabbing her elbow, leading them through the thicket of trees.

“I apologize for interrupting your...umm,
private moment,” Eleanor stammered, “but when I recognized two of your uncle’s men, I knew I must warn you.”

Anton stopped, bringing
Vivian to a jerk as she stumbled into him. She steadied herself as she held onto his arm.

He threw a glare at her mother. “How do you know my uncle?”

“I have lived in Spain for five years. I know a lot about your uncle and his men.” She glanced behind them before meeting Vivian’s stare. “Now are you going to believe me and let me help you?”

Vivian
swallowed the lump of doubt in her throat. She searched for the detective skills she’d tried to develop, and for her ability to read people, but strangely, they had disappeared. Perhaps she was too emotionally involved this time.

“Why should we believe you?” Anton snapped.

The thin woman stood tall, placing her hands on her hips and lifting her chin in defiance. “Because, I love my daughter—no matter what she believes—and I want to prove my devotion to her.” Her bottom lip quivered. “I want a second chance,” she whispered.

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