Crista woke the next morning thinking this could be the day—her last day with Diablo. The thought tore at her heart. She didn’t know how she was going to say good-bye to him without breaking down in tears. And she couldn’t do that in front of her brother. Then there was the constant worry of meeting with a family she barely recalled.
She finished washing from the bucket of water Diablo brought to her each day and once done combing her fingers through her hair to let the long dark waves fall free, she took the bucket outside and dumped the water on the side of the shack.
The mountain lion poked its head from behind a boulder and stared at her.
“Good morning and thank you,” she said softly. “I appreciate you sharing your strength with me.”
“He lingers near,” Diablo said as she turned to find him a few feet away.
“Are you certain he won’t attack?” she asked in a near whisper.
He stretched his hand out to her. “He’s a wild animal, therefore, unpredictable.”
Similar to you, she thought and hurried to take his hand. He was shirtless, his hair damp from his own washing at the stream earlier, and more handsome than ever. She lingered liberally on his features, wanting to sear his face in her memory so that it would never fade.
He tugged her close to him, seeing the sorrow in her eyes and wanting to comfort her. “Your family has a good reputation in the area.”
“That does little to soothe me since the nun who beat me also had an excellent reputation,” she said, a heavy frown on her face.
“You will see that what I do is for the best,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.
She turned her face away. “Trying to assuage me or your own guilt?”
He let her go and stepped away from her. “I have nothing to feel guilty about.”
The chill in his words made her shiver. She shook her head annoyed with herself and glanced up at the lion still staring down at her.
It looks like I’m in dire need of your strength.
She turned. “You’re right. I made a choice and I don’t regret it. I’ll never regret it.” She went to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.
“I don’t regret it either,” he said and brought his mouth down on hers in one of his crushing kisses.
It was as if he took possession of her when he kissed her that way, like he would never let her go. That he truly meant it when he’d say she’s mine. It was then when she believed—she felt—he loved her.
His lips never left hers as he walked her, his hands at her waist, around the corner of the shack and inside.
“I want you,” he whispered in her ear when he moved his mouth off hers to nibble at her ear.
He stripped her of her clothes quickly and discarded his own just as fast. She was on the bed with him inside her before she knew what happened. Not that she minded. She loved the feel of him thick and strong inside her and that he didn’t wait, he moved with determination that sent her passion soaring.
This would be a quick mating and she loved those as much as the lingering ones, where they took the time to explore and enjoy each other.
But most importantly was that he admitted that he wanted her. That made all the difference and soared her passion even more.
It didn’t take long for her to explode in her usual frenzy of pleasure. Each time seemed more intense than the last, a reason to look forward to the next time.
But would there be a next time? That was the question that haunted her and frightened her at the same time. When was the last time they would ever make love?
Crista woke the next morning alone. She didn’t get upset, Diablo often went and caught fish for them for breakfast or they’d eat from the provisions he’d bring back with him to wherever it was he had been.
She stopped in mid-stretch, her bare arms extended above her head. He hadn’t any provisions with him when he returned yesterday. She lowered her arms to her sides. Time was growing close. She had to make the best of the time she had. What was it Lucia would say?
Live for today not for a day that has yet to come.
She got out of bed and hurried into her clothes, though she had considered waiting naked in bed for Diablo to return. She smiled and her skin prickled thinking of those times he would wake her with gentle, intimate touches that would always lead to making love. She would so miss that.
She sighed. Not yet. They had today and she would enjoy today and not worry on tomorrow.
She smiled when she spotted the bucket of water on the table and she quickly freshened herself. He’d already been to the stream, which meant he was probably busy cooking the fish for breakfast. She sniffed, usually able to smell the scent of the fish cooking but caught no scent. He was probably busy cleaning them.
With a swipe of her fingers through her long hair, she quickly braided it. She was eager to see Diablo, feel his lips on hers, his arm slipping around her waist to hold her close, or feel his strong hand as it closed snugly around hers. She smiled with anticipation, happier than she’d ever remembered being and looking forward to the day.
She stepped outside and froze. More than a dozen men on horses were circling the shack while one rode forward. She knew without being told who it was—her brother Esteban.
There were some similarities between them, the dark hair and eyes, and there was no doubt he had matured into a handsome man, his bold features striking. She might have realized who he was but he was still a stranger to her.
The horse had barely come to a stop when he dismounted and hurried to her.
“Crista, you are unharmed?” Esteban asked, reaching out to take her arm.
Crista rushed back away from him before he could touch her. “I am not harmed.”
Esteban remained where he stood. “You don’t remember me.”
“I have little memory of you or any of my family,” she said.
“Then it is time to come to know us once again. It is time to go home,” he said and held his hand out to her.
Crista didn’t know if her disappointment showed and she didn’t care. There was no joy in seeing her brother after all these years and there would be no joy in reuniting with her family. She was in too much pain to celebrate an occasion that to most should be a happy one. Her heart was shattering into a million pieces and she feared she would do something foolish—like refusing to go with her brother.
How could Diablo have left her like this? Why hadn’t he told her last night that her brother would be here this morning for her? She thought about the tender way he had made love to her last night and then how he had woken her to make love again, though that time was different. He had been possessive, demanding—he’d been the devil and the devil had claimed her soul.
“Crista, you pale,” Esteban said and stepped forward to take hold of her.
“Don’t touch me!” she screamed at him, not wanting to feel anyone’s hands on her but Diablo’s.
Esteban stepped back, a dark scowl marring his handsome features, worried what may have happened to her sister while with Diablo.
Crista fought to calm herself. Her time with Diablo was done. She would never see him again.
“A mountain lion,” one of the men shouted.
“No! Don’t shoot!” Crista screamed when she saw several of the men draw their guns. She turned and ran, slipping and scraping her legs as she scrambled up the rocks toward the big cat.
“Crista!” Esteban yelled and chased after her, the mountain lion screeching as he did.
Crista stopped not far from the animal and turned. “Tell your men not to shoot or I won’t go with you. The big cat means them no harm.”
Esteban didn’t know what to make of his sister’s actions. She wasn’t anything like he had expected. He had thought to find a demure, well-behaved, young woman or at least that’s what the nuns at the convent where she’d been raised had advised his mother in a letter.
Crista wasn’t anything like that. She was a beauty, there was no denying that, but she resembled more a peasant, free and untamed. Though that might be due to her peasant attire. Or had her time with the devil changed her? He was well aware of what time with outlaws could do to someone. Though it hadn’t been long that she’d been with Diablo, but then any time spent with the devil could prove dangerous.
“I mean it, Esteban. Tell them to put their guns away or else,” she threatened.
For a moment, he heard the voice of a young girl say his name and he was reminded of carrying her on his shoulders so she could pick an orange off the tree in their family’s orange grove. She’d never keep it for herself alone, she’d always share it with him.
“Guns down,” he commanded and not one man hesitated—they all lowered their guns. He stretched his hand out to his sister, though she was too far away to take it. “Now come down. It’s time for you to go home.”
Crista turned to give the big cat a look and whispered, “Don’t leave me yet. I’m not strong enough.”
She made her way more carefully down the rocks and when she reached Esteban, she kept her hands at her sides, not taking his offered hand.
“You’ll ride with me,” he said.
“No!” she snapped. “I can ride on my own.”
“I’m not offering a choice. You’ll ride with me,” Esteban ordered.
And so it began, others making decisions for her.
Crista sat sideways in front of her brother on his horse and gave one last, quick glance at the shack and then to the large cat who had moved higher up on the rocks. She thought—hoped—that Diablo might show himself, if only in the distance. But there was no sign of him.
An excruciating pain tore at her heart at the thought of never seeing him again and anger joined it. He often said how she belonged to him and how he’d always be there to rescue her. How could he say those things then send her away? She had allowed herself to believe that the devil just might love her as much as she loved him. She supposed this was proof he didn’t. If he loved her, he could never let her go—his heart would break as hers did now.
She almost laughed at the ridiculous thought. How could the devil’s heart break when he didn’t have one?
She closed her eyes to keep her tears from falling as Esteban turned his horse and they rode away from the shack, away from what started as a nightmare turned into a dream, then returned to a nightmare once again. Had any of it been real?
Crista didn’t want to open her eyes, though her gathering tears would leave her no choice but to open them and face the truth—face her brother.
The screech of the big cat echoed through the mountain as she opened her eyes and let her tears quietly fall.
“I’m sorry about this, little one,” Esteban said tenderly.
She had forgotten he called her little one. It had been an appropriate name, since in her young eyes he had been a giant to her.
“It is my fault Diablo got a hold of you,” he said with an anger he couldn’t hide.
She wiped her tears away. “I don’t seek to blame anyone, and Diablo rescued me more than once from men who intended to do me horrific harm. I am grateful to him.”
“There are few who would say that about him.”
“Then they don’t know him,” she said and wished she had caught her tongue.
“And you do?”
This time she was glad her tongue was fast. “I have eyes and ears. I see and hear clearly.”
“The devil can be deceptive,” Esteban warned.
“You sound like you were taught by the nuns at the convent.”
“I was taught by the devil himself,” Esteban said. “And once you owe the devil, he makes sure he gets his due. And if your foolish enough to give him your soul, there’s no escaping him.”
She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of his words. If that were true, she wouldn’t be riding away with her brother right now.
“It is done. You’ll never see the devil again,” Esteban said.
In attempting to console her, he only added to her sorrow and pain, and tears choked at her once again. There was, however, one question she needed to ask him. It had troubled her since her capture.
“Did Ernesto survive the attack?” she asked.
“Si, he does well and tells all how you bravely saved his life. He goes to church every day and lights a candle for your safe return. He will be pleased and happy to see you. As we are all pleased that you are finally home. Mother and Father are eager to see you and I’m eager for you to meet my wife Rosa. And I’m pleased that you’ll be here for the birth of our first child, not far off. We have much to catch up on and…”
Crista’s mind drifted as her brother continued talking of family and the future. None of it mattered to her. She had no interest in anything he was saying. Her mind was adrift with Diablo and what they’d be doing right now: talking, laughing, walking, making love. It hadn’t been something that would last forever, although she wished some miracle could have made it so, but it had been precious while it lasted.
“You’ll face some scrutiny upon your return.”
Those words jolted her out of her musings.
“Gossip is inevitable, but a wise course of action will soon put it to rest,” Esteban said. “Mother and father will see to it all. You have nothing to worry about. You are safe now and all will go well.”
She might be safe, but she was no longer free.