The Tender Vine (Diamond of the Rockies #3)(81)

Carina stood over him, smiling. “Where are you staying?”

“Union Hotel.” He stood up and handed the basket back.

She hung it over her arm. “I’ll try to get out every day.”

“Carina . . .”

“If I leave a note at the desk, can you meet me?”

“I’ll be at the quarry. Then I report to the store.”

She stepped closer. “But in between?”

He slid his fingers into her hair. His heart set up a clamor. “You don’t have to bring food. I can catch something in town.” Eating would take up too much of their time. If her brothers were truly keeping guard on her, their meetings would be brief. “Where can we meet?”

“Behind the mission there’s a wall.”

“The mission?”

“The church across First East, right by Schocken’s store. Listen, there’s a patch of cactus higher than your head along the wall behind the mission yard where the Indians work. Flavio—” She stopped. “Well, Flavio kissed me once between the cactus and adobe walls. No one can see in there and try to interfere.”

Quillan frowned. He had no desire to tryst with his wife where she once lingered with that dark-eyed darling. But since he had no better plan . . .”All right. I’ll check for a note when I go in to clean up.”

She touched his cheek. “Now kiss me before I die of wanting it.”





EIGHTEEN

Oh sweet and painful love, thou needle in my heart; should I draw you forth and let the bleeding start?

—Quillan

CARINE WATCHED UNTIL HER HUSBAND was lost between the buildings. His kiss was warm on her lips, but it still remained that he went his way and now she must go hers. What had she thought, that everything would be different? That somehow he would have solved it overnight?

And she was far from certain that she could sneak away every evening using Ti’Giuseppe as a decoy. It wouldn’t work for long. But maybe in a few days it wouldn’t matter. Her brothers would relax. Papa would forgive. She quickened her stride. God would make a way. Per favore, Signore.

She started back through the fields along the road leading to Papa’s farm. Dusk was deepening when she heard a horse trotting and looked up, startled. Flavio reined in as he caught sight of her. The fiery stallion tossed its head, back-stepping a pace. Flavio swung down with the fluid grace she knew so well, then led the horse off the road toward her. She stopped walking.

He came and stood over her, not so tall as Quillan, but the force of his nature had always made her feel small. She raised her chin defiantly. “What do you want?”

“I came to find you.”

She started to walk. “So you found me.”

He fell in step beside her. “It’s getting dark for a walk.”

“I don’t care.”

“Let me give you a ride, tesora mia.” His voice turned to velvet.

She stopped, fists at her sides. “I’m not your darling.”

He reached into her hair. “You will always be, your sham husband notwithstanding.”

She jerked away. “He’s not a sham.”

“He left you.”

Her fury ignited. “Because of you! And Papa! And my imbecile brothers.” She stalked forward, but he caught her arm, pulled her around.

“Tia Franchesca says the marriage is invalid.”

“Mamma knows nothing.” But Carina started to shake. Mamma had told Flavio that? After seeing her weep, hearing her plea? Would they try to cause an annulment in spite of her? Could they?

Flavio caught her other arm. “I love you, Carina Maria.” He spoke it with fervor.

Could he mean it, after everything he’d done? She remembered the first time he had said that, when she was only fourteen years old. How thrilled she’d been. Even now it was intoxicating that he wanted her still. But that was dangerous and terrible. “I am already married.”

His fingers tightened. His lips formed a tight line. “Get on the horse.” He spoke softly, but as always his tone compelled. Like Papa, Flavio did not holler, did not need to. Was she a little girl again to be controlled by his strings?

“Grazie, no.” She tried to pull away.

He nudged her toward the animal. It shied, but Flavio tugged the reins. “Get on, tesora.” An edge now in his voice.

She could hardly outrun him. It would be humiliating to try. Seething, she took hold of the animal’s back and swung up onto the saddle, which was hardly more than a shaped and padded blanket. Flavio had always preferred bareback riding. Her skirts caught up around her knees, but she had worn her high leather boots to walk to town. What did she care if it looked less than ladylike? Did she care to impress Flavio? Beh!

He removed her foot from the stirrup and replaced it with his own. Carina quaked at the thought of him behind her. She recalled Quillan’s chest against her back after he had saved her from the mine shaft, his arm holding her steady.

Flavio put his weight into the stirrup. At the same moment, Carina kicked the stallion in the soft area between its flank and belly. The animal reared, and Flavio fell. Then she was flying across the field upon an enraged beast. But she knew as she flew that the stallion’s fury was nothing to what Flavio’s would be.

With effort, she gained control of the animal and steered it toward the road. It had been a long time since she’d ridden astride, and the jarring chattered her teeth, especially with one foot out of the stirrup. Her back ached. She yanked on the reins and at last brought the horse to a walk. Flavio was out of sight.