Читать книгу Loving Lies - Tina Donahue - Страница 10

Despite his firm speech, Fernando fully expected Isabella to argue with him.

She was as meek and obedient as she’d promised…as a woman should be with a man. Given his pledge not to have her until their nuptials, Fernando reined in his passion, which wasn’t easy.

However, she could always change her mind and beg him to lie with her this day. He simply had to persuade her.

He stroked the curve of her hip, a light and loving touch. Her step paused. Pretending not to notice, he cupped her naked cheek, sighing at how unbearably soft and warm her skin was.

Color kept rising to her throat and face.

Taking in the area, Fernando led her deeper into the stream. Now, she fought him, sucking in a breath, lifting one leg then the other, no doubt to stop the water from burning her scraped knees.

“The pain will pass.” To distract her and to please himself, he kissed her ear, temple, and the side of her mouth, inhaling deeply of her female scent, heated flesh perfumed with the sweetness of the fruit she’d eaten.

She turned her face to his. Her eyes were puffy from tears and bright with what appeared to be concern as to what would happen between them.

Only pleasure. He brushed his lips over hers to prove it. Her mouth still trembled. With great gentleness, he skimmed her bottom lip with his tongue then kissed her with more tenderness than he realized he had. She sagged against him, suckling his tongue, moaning faintly. Pleased, he trailed his fingers down her velvety throat causing her to moan even more. Beneath his touch, she yielded and craved. He ended the kiss and eased back.

Her taut nipples were a dusky rose, the tips long, made for his mouth, the same as the rest of her. Her lush breasts had easily filled his hands, the flare of her hips was so womanly his sac tightened even more. Warning himself to quell his desire, he ran his fingers over the base of her throat and smiled at her prolonged sigh. “The pain has passed, no?”

Her eyes were glassy, distracted. She took a deep breath before nodding.

He led her farther into the stream until water lapped her thighs. With his arm around her waist, he pulled her against him, nestling his shaft in the furrow between her plush cheeks. His head buzzed at her softness and warmth, his arousal so intense he could barely force down a swallow or capture a breath. Isabella, on the other hand, stiffened and dug her fingers into his wrist.

Clearly, she needed more wooing. He pressed his mouth to her neck and suckled, enjoying the faint saltiness of her skin. She eased her grip. With her fear again draining away, he took another quick look, satisfied they were safe, and trickled water over her narrow shoulders. The moisture glimmered in the light, skimming her breasts, trailing past her peaked nipples before gliding over her torso to her mound.

Warmth pooled in his groin. His shaft hungered for her tight, wet heat. Forcing himself to be patient and gentle, he brought more water to her shoulders and arms. She whimpered and tried to pull away, covering her scraped elbows with her hands.

Again, he assured, “The pain will pass.” He cupped her right breast.

She went rigid, not even breathing any longer.

He made no sudden moves. “I gave you my word to wait for our coupling.” Before she could question or speak, he turned her face to his and slipped his tongue between her lips. She sighed hungrily. He growled at the stunning comfort of her mouth and the wonder of her nipple against his roughened palm. Her tip was erect, her breast so yielding he fondled her with an urgency he hadn’t experienced in years with the women he’d known.

As he deepened the kiss, she pushed her breast into his hand, unknowingly pressing her buttocks against his stiffened shaft. Currents of heat flowed through him, her closeness fueling his hunger. He ran his hand over her breasts, squeezing each precious globe before pulling his mouth free.

Breathing hard, she rested the back of her head against his shoulder.

Her growing trust thrilled him as few things had. With his attention on their surroundings, ever alert to danger, he slid his hand over the gentle swell of her belly, his fingers poised above her slit. She pushed into him. To get away from his touch? He stroked her delicate flesh, deliberately teasing it. “Allow me this.”

Her breath spilled out on a ragged sigh. Above them, birds flew past, chirping gaily. Wind hushed through the trees. Isabella soon seemed unaware of anything except his patient touch. She turned her head until her cheek rested against his shoulder and her newest sighs warmed his throat.

Smiling, he slipped his fingers over her mound and touched the soft folds between her legs. Her breath caught…the same as his. She was already wet for him. The world spun so quickly, he had to lock his knees to steady himself. Beneath his fingers, her sex grew plumper, slicker with her womanly moisture. He held back a bellow of delight and dipped his fingers to her sweet nub. She made a gentle, feminine sound, fueling his lust.

“Allow me this,” he said, even though she’d made no move to resist. She kept her legs open to his touch, every part of her surrendering to whatever he willed.

As he flicked his fingertips over her erect nub, she released a shuddering breath and melted into his touch, clearly wanting more. Determined to prolong her pleasure, to make her desire this over anything else, he eased his hand from her slit and rested his damp fingers on her belly. She shook her head. Objecting to the way he’d stopped? Surely. He ran his forefinger around her navel, circling the small depression.

“No.” She pulled in more air. “Touch me there again. Please.”

He feigned ignorance. “Where?”

Her breasts quivered with her harsh breaths. “My sex. Touch it.”

“In time.”

“Now.”

He suckled her throat, liking the eager and wanting sounds she made. He kissed her shoulder, ear, and temple before concentrating on her nub, stroking it unhurriedly. She gripped his forearm. Brushing his fingers more quickly against her sex, he drove her closer to the edge. Her breathing grew strained, muscles tight. As she neared the height of her pleasure, he eased back his hand.

She moaned. “No, no, no, no. Why did you stop? Touch me.”

He did, and a shameless cry burst from her. Before she could catch her breath, he rubbed faster, harder, so relentless in his intent, she reached release quickly and cried out once more. He held her tightly to him as she floated down from the peak of her desire, shivering against him.

She belonged to him now, and not only because of this act or their betrothal. She’d been born for him as much as he’d been born for her. It was a concept he’d never considered before. A dream he’d thought only a fool could believe.

He’d been blind for denying such a thing until now, because he was falling under the spell of a woman he barely knew and yet seemed to have known all of his days. From the moment he first saw her in the market, she’d captured his heart. She’d proved to be courageous and worthy of the greatest respect. A man didn’t need days, months, or years to know this kind of passion. It could happen in an instant. If one was fortunate, it lasted a lifetime.

He sighed contentedly as she turned into him, snuggling her breasts to his chest, resting her face against his neck. Her sweet breath did magical things, making his shaft even harder. After kissing her shoulder, he again regarded their surroundings. They were blessedly alone, as he’d predicted when choosing this spot.

He embraced her gently. “Have you nothing to say?”

“Gracias.”

Fernando laughed, realizing too late how he’d insulted her. He pulled her back within his embrace. “Forgive me. I was not making light of the moment. Your response delights me.”

“One you expected, no?”

Of course, though he never would have guessed how elated he’d be at pleasing her. The second son of a count had brought this first-born lady much joy. “Until this moment you were so difficult, I had no idea what might happen.”

“I was disagreeable, not difficult.” She pressed her mouth to his throat and suckled him tenderly.

His knees knocked against hers. His heart beat so hard he could barely speak. “Have it your way, though no more.”

She stopped sucking and glanced up. Her cautious expression said she recalled her promise of obedience to his will. “You want to pleasure me again?”

“I want you to see to my pleasure. To have your hands do to my shaft what your body should, caress and stroke its length. Bring me to completion.”

She eased back, her attention falling to his rigid rod. A deep pink tint flooded her chest, throat, and cheeks.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

Her gaze flicked to his before returning to his sex. “No.” With tender care, she took his thickened flesh in her hand.

A shock of delight tore through Fernando, forcing him to dig his toes into the cool mud in order to keep steady. His legs still wavered as she cupped his sac in her other hand. Her caress pulled a strained grunt from him.

Isabella quickly loosened her hold. “Did I hurt you?”

He was too aroused to speak. After shaking his head, he gestured for her to continue.

* * * *

She willed her heart to stop thudding against her throat.

It beat even harder as she regarded his heavy sex now in her care. Fernando’s skin was exquisitely soft and hot, his rigid length breathtaking, his smooth crown nearly purple with desire. Never had she felt or seen anything as wondrous. It blinded her to the lies she would continue to tell, the future they could never have. What mattered now were these few moments. The only they might share.

As he rested his forearms on her shoulders and delivered himself to her, she ran her fingertip over the small depression in the head of his shaft. A clear, silky fluid emerged. She’d heard other women speak of this…how it announced the beginning of a man’s pleasure. Mesmerized, she stroked the liquid over his reddened tip and worked her fingers past the crown to his shaft until she’d reached the thick hair on his groin.

He kept growling, the sounds strangled, nearly out of control. He’d lowered his head, his breathing difficult.

She made matters even harder on him, doing to Fernando what her male cousins had done to themselves when none of them had known she’d been spying. As Isabella worked one hand up and down his meaty length, she fondled his sac.

He bunched his shoulders, increasing the weight of his forearms on her.

She endured the burden willingly, tending to his pleasure. He clenched his jaw, his face reddened. He was surely close to release. Recalling what he’d done with her, she stopped arousing him and merely caressed. He thrust his hips toward her, obviously wanting her to continue. When she did not, he muttered what sounded like an Arabic oath and glared.

She curled her fingers more tightly around his sex and worked him harder, faster than before.

His head dropped forward, hair dancing in the breeze. He grunted repeatedly, yet didn’t climax. She sensed he was fighting pleasure to prolong the feeling. His response increased her determination to bring him full joy. She stroked fast and slow, hard and soft. He growled and panted, finally pressing his face to his arm to quiet his lusty groans.

His hot, creamy seed spurted across her palms. Fascinated, she stroked his flesh.

His groans turned to gasps. He lowered his arms and pulled her hands away.

She frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Stopping you.” He shuddered before pulling in another rough breath.

“Why? Did I do something wrong?”

He lifted his head. His face was flushed with pleasure, eyes hooded, his breathing even harsher than earlier. “No.”

“Then allow me to continue.”

Again, he pulled her hands from his shaft and sac. “To what end? You want to kill me?”

“Without a sword or a dagger?”

“Your hands are weapons enough.”

How true. Spying on her cousins had told Isabella how sensitive a man’s flesh was after he’d found release. Recalling those moments, she grinned.

He did too, quite sleepily. “Gracias, Isabella. You honored me with this act.”

She’d duped him with it. He didn’t belong to her. She’d never belong to him. She lowered her face and wrapped her arms around herself, shame and worry returning.

After yawning lustily, he touched her arm. “Are you cold?”

Despite the sun warming her shoulders, she shivered and lied. Always she had to lie. “Sí.”

“We best finish bathing.” He stretched and rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes. “We need to resume our journey.”

She needed to delay their arrival at her papá’s estate but hadn’t a plan on how to do so.

Fernando washed the dark stain off the backs of his hands, neck, and the sides of his face. Water drizzled down his bristly cheeks and fell onto his lightly furred chest, where the beads sparkled like dozens of diamonds.

She grew limp with longing. He gave her an odd look. “What are you doing?”

Falling under his spell, what else? “Nothing.”

“I know. You need to bathe, not watch me. Go on.”

“I shall.”

“Now.”

Under his watchful eye, Isabella had no other choice, though she still concentrated on delay. She poured water over her shoulder, pausing to regard the ribbons of moisture coursing down her arm. Once the water had fallen from each fingertip, she poured some over her other shoulder, waiting as it flowed down.

“Isabella.”

She looked at him. He was quite beautiful even when he frowned.

“Do you always bathe like this?”

Pretending not to understand his question, she glanced at their surroundings. The lovely trees, fluffy clouds, brilliant sun. “I never bathe in streams. The servants always fill a tub with heated water and scented oils.”

“Do you bathe as slowly in a tub?”

“I do, if the day happens to be as warm as this one.”

“I thought you were cold.”

She suddenly recalled her lie and added another. “Only because the sun had gone behind a cloud.” She scooped water into her palm and poured it over her chest. The threads of moisture separated around her tightened nipple.

Fernando cupped her breast, lowered his head, and latched onto her tip.

Her mouth sagged open at his tongue rasping her flesh. His moves were so wanton, his mouth so wet and hot she moaned indelicately. He rewarded her by suckling her nipple without restraint, making her weak with need. When he enjoyed her other nipple, she trembled in delight.

He eased back. “You enjoy this, no?”

She cleared her throat in order to speak. “Very much.”

“Then you must hurry so our wedding is not unduly delayed. Allow me to assist you.” He cupped the back of her head, bent her at the waist, and unceremoniously pushed her head into the water.

Startled, she flailed her arms. When Fernando pulled her back up, she coughed and shouted, “What are you doing?”

“What you will not. You seem incapable of washing yourself, señorita.”

Isabella yanked away and had to right herself quickly so she wouldn’t fall in the stream. Clawing wet hair off her face, she glared. “I am most capable, señor.”

“Prove it by promptly finishing the task, understand?”

“I do, my lord, as I have no desire to have you drown me.”

He stepped toward her. “Why are you delaying our journey?”

Heat rose to her throat and cheeks.

He frowned. “You refuse to answer me?”

She refused to speak the truth. “I was abducted and taken to the slave market, Fernando. I fear what others might think of me.”

“They will think only the best or face my sword. You have my protection. It should suffice. Or do you still doubt my honor and fidelity?”

How could she after what he’d done for her in Granada and continued to do here?

Ashamed of her behavior and giving him even a moment of doubt, she pressed the back of his hand to her cheek. “Never. Forgive me.”

Fernando’s anger receded as quickly as hers had. He curled his fingers around hers. “We need to be on our way. You have only a moment to finish bathing.”

Her shoulders sagged. She unbraided her hair and washed. Once they were both finished, Fernando helped her from the stream and back to their garments.

She made a face. “I have to clean my robe.”

“Wear my shirt until we reach our supplies.” He tossed the garment to her.

Isabella clenched her teeth as she pulled the linen over her scraped elbows. Once she had the shirt on, she regarded her calves, exposed to anyone she might encounter. “I need only a moment to wash my robe.”

“No. Leave the thing here.”

Fernando dressed quickly. Taking her hand, he led her toward the wild wheat.

* * * *

They reached the crop within the hour. To Isabella’s relief, the plants came to her waist, concealing her partial nudity. Sadly, countless insects buzzed about, dank earth squished beneath her toes, and stalks whipped, flaying her scraped knees, making the rest of her skin itch.

She paused repeatedly to scratch her legs. Fernando sighed. “You keep making it worse.”

“Scratching relieves the maddening itch.”

“It delays us even more.” He tightened his fingers around hers and set a swift pace.

She was soon panting. “Do the garments awaiting me include shoes?”

“Boots. And all else to disguise you as a boy.”

Isabella held back. “You were unable to secure female clothing?”

“I was unwilling to do so.” He pulled her forward. “The journey to your papá’s castle is fraught with more danger than I care to think about, especially if you dress as a woman.” He looked over. “I have one sword, one dagger, and little chance of protecting you from a gang of men intent on thievery or worse.”

“You were splendid in Granada.”

His proud smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I had the advantage of surprise. Others use the same means to accomplish their goals.”

“You felt no fear in the bazaar? You expected success?”

As he directed them to the right, several birds took noisy flight from the wheat. “Success is never assured. I feared greatly for you.”

“Not for yourself? How can you be so brave?”

“A man can die but once, no?”

Her stomach fell. She squeezed his hand.

“All is well.” He regarded their surroundings as he always did, surely searching for possible threats. “What happened before is best forgotten.”

“What might have happened if you had failed to rescue me?”

His attention remained on the left before returning to the right, a stand of trees in the distance. “I suppose you would have escaped as you claimed earlier, no?” He looked at her.

She lifted one eyebrow.

He smiled. “At the time I had no idea how difficult you would be. Had I known, I might have refused to rescue you.”

“I am disagreeable, my lord. Not difficult.”

“Is that so?” He tugged her forward, forcing her to match his pace. “You refuse to lie with me until our union is sanctioned by God. I find your resolve most difficult.”

“We had our moment in the stream. Have you forgotten it?”

“Have you?”

“I may need to be reminded.”

Fernando smiled. “You will be once we rest.”

“When will we?”

He laughed. “You are bold.”

She was in need of pleasure only he could give and a means to somehow delay or forsake their journey. “Only with you, my lord, and I will prove myself once you allow us rest.”

He turned to her. Although his expression was naked with need, he shook his head. “Not until the sun goes down.” He regarded her breasts, bouncing with each of her steps. “When it does, you had better keep your promise.”

“And change your mind on rescuing such a disagreeable, difficult, and disobedient woman?”

He again scanned the area. “I would have risked my life to spare any woman the harem whether she was Christian or not, betrothed to me or not, difficult or not.”

“So you also know what goes on in the Sultan’s harem.”

“Also?”

She swatted at insects buzzing around her face. “When others spoke of it I made certain to listen.”

“You made certain to eavesdrop, and no Spaniard will ever know what goes on in such a barbaric place.”

“Yet you would risk your life to save even a Moorish woman from it?”

He slid his gaze to her before resuming his careful watch of the area. “You ask far too many questions.”

“I asked only one. How can it tax you?”

“You just asked another.”

“Forgive me.”

“All will be well if you simply match my pace.”

She suppressed a sigh. “How can I? My legs are shorter than yours and my feet are unshod. I keep stepping on what feels like dead animals.”

“And you wait until now to tell me?” He frowned. “Dead animals mean food.”

She curled her upper lip at the thought of eating a creature she’d stepped on.

He smiled. “You have been far too pampered.”

She bowed her head in mock acquiescence. “How true, my lord. What a relief only one of us deserves to wear high boots.”

“Being a clumsy man I need such things. You, señorita, are as graceful as a gazelle.”

She bumped against him with increasing frequency in her struggle to keep up. “A what?”

“Gazelle. One of the many animals the Sultan has trapped in his palace.”

“You have been inside.”

“I overheard others discussing the animals he keeps.”

“As you eavesdropped? What did you learn of the harem women as you listened in?”

“Spied.”

“As you wish. What did you learn of the harem women?”

“Why do you need to know? Do you still feel in harm’s way?”

“Only when it comes to your brutal pace. Give me a moment to catch my breath.”

At last, he stopped and faced her. “You want a moment that may risk our safety?” He released her hand and advanced.

Breathing hard, she stepped back. “We stopped at the stream.”

“No one was about.”

She looked right, left, even behind herself at the endless wheat, the distant trees, and the blue-tinged mountains on the horizon. “I see no one here.”

“For the moment.”

“Have I asked for so much?”

He scowled. “First, you accused me of drugging the orange, forcing me to eat a slice. Then, you demanded I prove my claim on you. Next, you secured my oath to wait for our coupling. And now you insist on knowing what might have happened in Granada when I wanted to spare you the horror.”

“I only asked—”

“And I mean to tell you. If you had been purchased for Boabdil’s harem, your status would have been no more than a slave to be used as he willed. He might have kept you as a gedikli, a girl forced to bathe and dress him, to serve his food, and perhaps if he was desirous of you, to share his bed. One of his subjects would have recorded, in detail, Boabdil’s couching of you, each intimacy, to assure the legitimacy of his heirs.

“After a time, you might have become his ikbal, or favorite. He has many favorites. His wives are known as kadins. The first is the hatun, the great lady, one who shares his attentions with the second wife known as durrah, or parrot. By custom, the Sultan’s allowed only four kadins. Oftentimes he takes many, many more, while the number of concubines he owns is endless. You would have been in that class, no more than his property to give away as he saw fit. Perhaps to another man for political purposes with the man forcing you to lie with him and bear his children, until he tired of you and sent you to the slave market for purchase by another man.”

Fernando grabbed Isabella’s arm and pulled her close. “Even if you had remained in the harem, your life would have been worth nothing before you were with child. If you were unfortunate enough to bear the Sultan’s son, you and the infant would have been at great risk. There are many other women in the harem, like those known as kumas, or rivals, who intend to ascend to power through their male heirs. On an order from any of them, you and the child might have been drowned or poisoned and the crime would have remained unknown to the outside world, because no one, not even a magistrate, can breach the sanctity of harem. The Moors believe in qisma, a fate determined before any of us are born and out of our hands, whether it be good fate or bad. No, my queen, what I demand of you on this journey is hardly brutal. Even though you continue to deny what is rightfully mine, you will never come to harm under my protection. You will never be shamed. I give you my pledge. Tanto monta, monta tanto Isabella como Fernando.”

As much as one is worth so much is the other, Isabella as Fernando.

The same pledge the sovereigns had given to each other, telling all of Spain the Queen was on equal footing with the King. She was no less than he was.

Fernando was now vowing the same to Isabella despite the trouble she’d caused him.

Rarely had she regretted her behavior as she did now. “Forgive my ignorance and impertinence. I had no idea the perils and political intrigues the harem women endure.”

“Nor should you.” He released her arm and touched her cheek. “Danger is for a man to face in order to protect his woman.”

Or die trying as he guarded her on this journey, unless they succeeded in reaching the castle and Don Rodrigo murdered Fernando before he could claim Sancha. Horrified, Isabella covered her eyes with her hand.

He sighed. “Why worry about what might have been? It changes nothing.”

It changed everything. If not for her abduction, he wouldn’t be courting disaster at her father’s castle. He’d be risking his life fighting the Moors. In either case, he was pursuing death. “Is there nowhere in this world where one can hide from danger?”

“Danger has always been a part of life, though you face less here than you did in Granada.”

“I was abducted here, Fernando.”

“You were without my protection then. Now you have it.”

Until he learned the truth or was killed. “One needs more than a sword and dagger to assure their safety.” One needed cunning and the element of surprise, especially when dealing with Don Rodrigo. She dropped her hand and looked at Fernando. The wind ruffled his silky hair. Sunlight caressed his broad shoulders and muscular chest. How splendid he was. How she needed to protect him. Without the truth, she had only one way. “You must tell me about the magic you used in Granada.”

His eyebrows shot up first then he narrowed his eyes. “We need to continue our journey.”

“Tell me as we do.” She took his hand and pulled him forward as he was wont to do with her. Since he was taller, heavier, and not of a mind to cooperate, she was soon breathless.

He sighed loudly. “Do you need another moment?”

“I need to know how you perform the tricks.”

He slipped his arm around her waist and swung her to the left. The moment her feet were back on the ground, he grabbed her hand and towed her through the wheat in the new direction. “Why?”

“If danger comes at us from all sides I can use the tricks to protect myself and you.”

He laughed.

“You doubt my courage?”

“I know your courage. Your foolhardiness troubles me.”

“I want to be prepared for the worst. My strength will never match any man’s, so I need cunning and tricks to see to our safety. If I had known of your tricks during my abduction, I might not have been abducted.”

“If you had known of my tricks during your abduction, you would have faced a far worse fate.”

“I know. I never would have met you.”

Fernando stopped. He looked at her so queerly Isabella suddenly realized what she’d said. That she’d needed her abduction to meet her betrothed when she supposedly met him years earlier at the signing of the contracts.

She thought quickly before he could question what she meant. “I often feared you might be killed in battle and would never return to me. You did. Now tell me about the tricks.”

He resumed stomping across the field, yanking her with him. “No.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

He didn’t answer.

She blew out a sigh. Without his knowledge of the magic, she had to find another way to best Don Rodrigo. If only she was skilled with a sword or a dagger. Because she was not, her one hope was to poison his food. Not enough to kill the foul beast, but enough to frighten him into confessing. Once she had the truth, she’d offer an antidote. Of course, what poison was best? Sancha would know, but would she help?

Isabella was considering the matter when Fernando came to an abrupt halt.

Her pulse jumped. She glanced in front and behind, expecting to see someone advancing on them, sword drawn. Only a sea of golden wheat quivered in the breeze. “What is it?”

“How you pant and sigh.” His shoulders slumped. “If I tell you about the tricks, will you at least stop sighing?”

Her eyes widened. “I may even stop panting.”

He fought a smile before he resumed scanning the area. “Do you recall when I placed my hand in the fire and held the coals?”

“I do. You felt no pain nor did you burn your skin. How did you manage such a thing?”

“The trick depends on several factors. First, from where you and the others stood, it appeared I was placing my hand in open flames. Instead, I took the coals from an area where the fire was already out.”

“You still held red-hot coals and juggled them.”

“I held smoking coals covered with ash to reduce their heat. By tossing them from one hand to the other, the embers had little chance to burn me. However, I also used a common mineral for protection. Before I arrived to rescue you, I had ground the mineral into a fine powder and rubbed it on my palms. Thus coated, I was able to press hot coals to the eunuch’s throat long enough to injure him without burning myself.”

“How brilliant.”

Fernando grinned.

“How did you get fire to flow from your mouth? Did you coat your lips and tongue with the same mineral and—have I said something amusing?”

He quelled his laughter. “Breathing fire is as simple as handling hot coals. The secret lies in using the hollow shell of a nut filled with oil and sulfur. By creating chaos first, as I did when I burned the eunuch and had you scream, I diverted the crowd’s attention. When no one was looking at me, I slipped the nut into my mouth and raised the hot coals to my lips in order to ignite the mixture. I blew into the nut and fire poured from my lips without harming them.” He paused to touch her mouth with his. “They remain unscathed, no?”

His lips and mouth were perfect…silky and unbearably warm. “Sí.”

Fernando smiled. She needed more information. “What did you say to the slaver and eunuch when you first approached? I thought you were warning them of my intent to escape.”

He straightened. “I asked the slaver if he knew he was selling damaged goods. I told the eunuch he would never know as he would never be man enough to find out.”

“He cursed you for the insult, no?”

“He did.”

“After you burned him, you spoke to the crowd. What did you say to frighten them?”

He shrugged. “Only the truth. Hot coals can turn a virile man into a eunuch and a beautiful woman into a monster who has to remain veiled within her own house.”

“No wonder everyone kept backing away. What of the lamb’s blood you flung when we were in the cabinet? Have you used such deception before?”

“When I needed to distract my enemies so I could escape.”

“How amazing you are, Fernando.”

He resumed yanking her through the wheat. “Because I continue to walk despite having to drag you?”

She returned his smile. “For inventing such cunning means of deception and magic.”

“The tricks were used before our parents were born. I am hardly amazing.”

“How wrong you are.”

His face flushed.

“Do most know of this?” she asked. “Am I the only one ignorant of such matters?”

“You and I are one of the few who do know of this.”

Isabella could hardly contain her excitement. If most were ignorant of these facts, Don Rodrigo would surely be included. The man wasn’t an accomplished knight who would trade magic tricks with other warriors. He was soft, greedy, and ignorant of the world.

She imagined returning to the castle with fire pouring from her mouth, pressing hot coals to Don Rodrigo’s neck, his screams, her demands for his confession. When she had it, the authorities would take him away. Sancha and Fernando would be safe, finally, leaving him to pursue a betrothal with the correct woman, who didn’t want him.

Isabella held back a sigh. She couldn’t deliver her sister to him anymore than she could allow him to reach the castle. Once she had the means to deal with her uncle, she’d have to determine her next move. “Fernando, you must show me where to find the mineral and how to create chaos so I might perform these tricks.”

“What? No. Never ask again.”

She frowned. “What of your pledge? Are you saying in this matter I hardly count as much as you?”

“In this matter you count even more.”

“And yet you refuse my request? Should I ask another knight to assist me?”

“No.” He turned to her. “I forbid it. I expect your obedience for having granted your earlier request. Have you changed your mind on the matter? Do you want to lie with me now?”

She craved more of his touch with each second she spent with him. “Can I say nothing to sway you?”

“Do you have any idea the danger you face in performing these tricks?”

“I have no intention of stealing back into Granada to perform for the Moors. My intent is to protect you.”

“Performing these tricks would give you no choice except to escape to Granada to protect yourself. It would be madness for any woman to use them. It would make her seem like the Devil himself. If you had breathed fire during your abduction, your servants would have alerted the Church. After you were tortured into confessing your sins against God, you would have faced execution.”

“Why? You said what you did was nothing more than tricks. Certainly not witchcraft.”

“And you believe the truth will protect you? You can never perform these tricks, Isabella. I forbid it. Nor will we speak of this again. Come, your delays and endless questions have taxed my patience for too long. We will reach your papá’s castle as quickly as possible, where I intend to wed you, bed you, and be done with it.”

He strode faster than he had before, forcing her to do the same.