Return to Paradise (Torres Family Saga) (38 page)

      
True to his word, Benjamin would not let her sleep in the bed. True to hers, Rani spent the night in the stable with Vero and Benjamin's barb. He came to collect her at dawn, eager to be on his way before any of Sandor's band found them. Rani was not in the stable, but Vero was.

      
“Where has your damnable little mistress gone?” he asked the wolf crossly as he put the well-worn old saddle he had bargained for on Averroes and strapped his medical satchel onto it along with their meager foodstuffs. Not nearly enough to see them across the Alps, he mused. But he had also purchased a good, sturdy broadsword and an arbalest with a full quiver of bolts. He would have to hunt small game. “Let us hope I have not lost my marksman's eye lest we starve,” he said ruefully to the horse.

      
“We will not starve,” Rani replied. She stood at the stable door with a small leather pouch jingling as she tossed it up and caught it deftly.

      
“I will not even ask where you obtained that. Come, let us leave the city ere you get us both maimed with your sticky fingers.”

      
He led Averroes into the stable yard and swung into the saddle. Vero trotted behind them. Just then, a loud voice cried out from across the street, “That is her—the filthy
Zingari
who filched my purse. Stop her!”

      
Benjamin scooped the girl onto Averroes and took off at a flying gallop with Vero racing behind. A rock-throwing mob surged into the narrow, twisting streets, shrieking curses and giving chase. “Pray the morning watch is asleep at the gates else we forfeit our hands for your stupid prank,” he shouted to her.

      
Gypsy luck was with them for the gate was indeed open, admitting a farm cart filled with raw wool. Averroes jumped it neatly and Vero slithered around it. The stunned guard looked on in amazement as the splendid barb flew by with a wolf nipping at its heels. After several miles, Benjamin slowed the pace, but they rode for hours before stopping.

      
Rani slid from the horse, watching his clenched jaw with considerable trepidation. “How was I to know that fat old sot would miss a few coins? I took them from his pocket and he did not even blink, so unaware was he. The only reason he accused me when he found them gone was that I am
Romni
. ”

      
“Reason enough, apparently,” Benjamin said sourly. “Now we will rest and water Averroes, then set out again.” He strolled over to the small stream trickling alongside the trail and cupped his hand for a drink, allowing the barb to quench his thirst also.

      
Rani followed suit while Vero lapped eagerly. They rested a quarter of an hour or so and then Benjamin swung up onto the barb. “Tis time to move.”

      
Rani leaped to her feet agilely and reached up to climb atop Averroes, but Benjamin pulled away from her with a shake of his head. “Tis growing fearful hot and I can no longer abide your stench, sitting so close behind me, nor can Averroes, and he has to carry you.”

      
“What do you expect me to do, walk?”

      
“Just so.” He turned the barb back to the road and headed slowly toward the mountains.

      
Rani sputtered while Vero watched curiously. “Tis you who sold my mare! And would not let me steal her back! Benjamin, you
gadjo
bastard, you whoreson cur, you—”

      
“Keep up that diatribe and I will wash not only your body but your mouth,” he said conversationally. “Come, let us find a stream large enough to be worthy and we shall pollute it by cleansing you. Then you may ride.”

      
Rani considered letting Vero devour the heinous fiend. She looked around the deserted plains. Behind her lay the town where she would have her hands lopped off for stealing. Ahead lay the Alps and the way to Marseilles...and Benjamin's home. Stamping her bare foot in the dust, she began to trudge after his horse. The wolf, traitorous creature, was already at Averroes' side.

      
As the sun hung suspended above snow-capped peaks on the distant horizon, Benjamin reined in beside a copse of pine and chestnut trees. The small stream meandering near the roadside was met by yet another, larger one and the swale beyond the trees was filled with water that formed a small, inviting pool. He looked back at Rani, drenched in perspiration and caked with dust. All afternoon she had trudged after him, complaining but doggedly keeping up with his ambling horse.

      
He admired her tenacity and wondered how he was going to overcome it to get her clean. At the inn last night he had not dared to subdue her for fear her screeching would bring the watch. But he could not abide her riding with him in her filthy condition and they could not walk to Marseilles. Winter would overtake them ere they crossed the Alps!

      
He watched the wolf trot instinctively up to the water, sniff the air and then lower his head and drink. He swung down from Averroes and led the barb to the water's edge, then began to unsaddle him as the stallion quenched his thirst. “You could begin by making a fire,” he said to Rani, tossing her his saddlebags with the tinderbox inside.

      
She muttered in
Romani
what was certainly an obscene oath, then set about her assigned task. Benjamin unpacked a wineskin, a large crusty loaf of black bread, a round of cheese and a large bunch of grapes, rather the worse for their journey in the hot sun. Rani eyed the food and Benjamin could hear her stomach growl. He smiled. “If you would eat, first you must bathe.”

      
“Why do you wish to kill me? To repay me for saving your miserable life by giving me a chill? Soon twill be sunset and I shall freeze,” she pleaded as he advanced toward her.

      
“That is why I had you build the fire. Tis far from dark yet and the day is warm. You will take no chill.”

      
“Then I will drown! I cannot swim.”

      
“Ah, but I can. I will not let you drown, Rani.” He reached out to pull her to her feet.

      
Mulishly she shook her head and scooted back, preparing to scramble away, but he anticipated her. With one swift stride he encircled her waist with his arm, lifting her into his embrace. “God's balls, but you stink!”

      
Rani began to claw and flail, kicking and writhing in an attempt to free herself, calling out to Vero to attack. The traitorous male wolf merely sat with his head cocked, quizzically observing the strange playing.

      
Benjamin quickly captured her dangerous long-nailed fingers and pulled her arms behind her, then tossed her over his shoulder and swatted her rump. “If you blind me I shall never take you to Marseilles,” he said crossly as he walked to the edge of the pool.

      
She shrieked when he threw her into the shallows, then struggled to regain her footing on the sandy bottom, all the while coughing and splashing furiously. Benjamin quickly removed his boots, peeled down his hose and doffed his tunic. Rani stood sodden and miserable, like a half-drowned kitten, hip deep in the water. At first she watched in fascination as his splendidly lean body was at last fully revealed to her. The golden fur on his chest tapered down like an arrow across his flat belly to again bloom around his shaft. Her eyes fastened on it curiously. So, the tales about Jews
were
true. Before she could make a comment, he began stalking her with a scrub rag and soap, his intentions quite clearly not amatory.

      
“Remove that jewelry if you do not wish to lose it at the bottom of the pool.”

      
“A
Romni
never parts with her jewelry,” she said stiffly.

      
He shrugged. “Tis your personal fortune. If tis lost, it means naught to me.”

      
She snarled an oath and began pelting him with rings, bracelets and necklaces. He dodged gracefully and most of them ended up on the bank or winking from the shallow water at the pool's edge, but she refused to relinquish one garish locket.

      
He waited, then said, “Remove it or lose it.”

      
She clutched the locket in one hand and set her chin mulishly. “It contains my amulet from Agata—to protect me from you!”

      
“Obviously it has not worked very well, has it?” He advanced into the water.

      
“You are too vile for dogs—”

      
“Do not say it, else I will hold your head beneath the water until that dirty little mouth is quite clean.”

      
Rani subsided, backing slowly into the deeper water, still clutching the locket. The sandy bottom fell sharply away and she vanished beneath the surface of the water, only to bob back up coughing and swearing. “You wish to drown me! Have done for I have lost my amulet!” Once more her head disappeared beneath the water.

      
Benjamin dove in and seized her under her arms. Then he quickly surfaced, holding her flailing and shrieking as he walked back into waist-deep water. For such a petite thing, she was a fierce little she-cat. He grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled cruelly on it to bring her under control. “Now, you are not drowning and I will stand for no more tantrums.” He began to methodically rip the tattered clothes from her body until she was completely naked. His eyes looked like blue flames and his face was molded with harsh lines as he began to work the soap through her hair, cursing as he sudsed.

      
“Twill take a dozen scrubbings to clean all this hair. Perhaps soaking in vinegar to loosen the scum from your skin.”

      
Rani's eyes began to tear, only partially from the soapy water running into them as he lathered her hair. He truly found her repellent and ugly, while she found him so beautiful. She ceased resisting and stood woodenly, shivering in the warm water.

      
“Close your eyes. The soap stings and I would wash your face,” he said, noting the trickle from beneath those thick, sooty lashes. His fingers touched her delicate nose and finely arched eyebrows. Then he sudsed her cheeks and that sculpted mouth. Her patrician features certainly did not resemble those of her hulking, brutish brothers. He recalled stories he had heard since coming to Italy about
caraques
stealing children. Could it be?

      
“Rani, what do you remember of your parents? You do not resemble Django or Rasvan, but for your hair color.” As he rinsed her face with the cloth, he noted with satisfaction that the grime was indeed coming off, although her complexion was still a rich dark olive shade.

      
Rani opened her eyes when he completed the oddly gentle cleansing of her face. “My father was named Zanko. Rasvan and Django resemble him, although Agata says they are not so handsome. He died when I was a small child.” Should she tell him about her mother? Somehow the painful fact of abandonment by an unknown Hungarian noblewoman was too private, the wound too raw to speak of yet.

      
“What of your mother?”

      
“She died when I was born.” As far as Rani Janos was concerned, it was true.

      
“Could one of your parents have been of the
gadje?
” he asked, using their contemptuous word for non-Gypsies.

      
She bristled. “I am
Romni, gadjo
. And obviously that is not good enough for you.”

      
He did not reply but continued the incredibly arduous task of cleaning her hair. “Now, you must close your eyes and hold your nose so I can rinse the soap from your hair.” He pressed on her shoulders, but she would not move. “You cannot leave the soap in your hair. Twill itch.”

      
“Then why did you put it there?” she asked. Anger began to replace her hurt. She was
Romni
, a worthless piece of offal to him, and she had given up her brithright to save his miserable life!

      
When he pulled her against him, Rani began to struggle again, but it was an uneven contest as he held both her arms pinned to her sides and simply dunked her. She could feel his fingers working through her hair, loosening seventeen years of dirt and tangles as he massaged her scalp. When he surfaced with her, she cursed him between coughs and then spit on his beautiful gold-furred chest. He seemed not to notice as he hauled her into shallower water and began to work soap across her back, then up and down each arm. Every time she tensed as if to claw or kick at him, he could sense it and a warning light from those fierce blue eyes quelled her.

      
Benjamin moved from her arms to her breasts. He could still recall how they felt when she first brushed against him and how they looked when he saw their taut little chocolate points. As soon as his hands began to suds them the same reaction took place. He could feel her response and his own as well. Gritting his teeth, he concentrated on bathing her, trying desperately to control his aroused sex. Surely she would feel it probing into her belly if she stepped the slightest bit closer.
How by the twenty-four balls of the twelve apostles did I ever get into this mess?

      
Rani closed her eyes in humiliation as his touch made her body come alive. Her breasts ached and tingled. Gods above, what would happen when he reached her woman's place and touched her there? Then she felt him, his male part, brushing against her hip as she turned in the water. So, after all his cruel and terrible words, he did not find her so repellent after all. Of course, he had no doubt been some time without a woman. She knew by observing two randy older brothers that such could make a man very easily aroused.

      
Benjamin suddenly knew that she knew. He turned her around in the water and began to soap her rounded buttocks. When his hands cupped her hips, she gave an impudent wiggle, just to inflame him, the little tart. How many of those burly brutes in her band had been her lovers? Had Michel been too much the green boy for her tastes?