The black invader (16 page)

He was leading both horses, and between one raised arm and a horse's shoulder she saw Rosa Montanes swinging jauntily across to the patio gateway. Kirstie stepped back quickly, her heart hammering wildly and her head seeming so light suddenly she couldn't think clearly. Miguel smelled of horses and leather and that very special masculine scent that always hung about him, and it was very hard indeed to remember that she had told her grandfather how untrustworthy he was.

Also there was a look in his eyes that ran little shivers up and down her spine as he regarded her steadily. 'Are you still running away?' he asked, and Kirstie blinked at him in bewilderment, forgetting that that was exactly what she had done by making the effort to get back first and avoid a meeting with his companion. 'You were very obviously running away when you saw us just now,' he stated confidently. 'Rosa realised it and it gave her a great deal of satisfaction.'

'Did you really expect me to wait for you?' Kirstie asked in small voice. 'I thought it was more discreet if I avoided a meeting in view of her opinion of me. I would have thought even you understood that!'

He took note of the inference with a raised brow, but made no other comment for the moment. Instead he led the two animals into the building and put each

into its own stall, leaving the stallion while he attended to the more restless gelding, and it was automatic for Kirstie to linger in the doorway and watch him.

She always took so much more detailed notice of Miguel than she did Luis and nothing escaped her watching eyes as she studied him. A cream shirt stretched tautly across his broad back when he bent to undo the girth and showed the shadow of dark skin through its texture, and the deftness of his big hands reminded her of how gentle they could be at times, and at others so thrillingly and excitingly sensual. She knew it was dangerous, thinking about Miguel like that, but somehow she couldn't help herself. Whatever he did, however he behaved towards her, Miguel fascinated her in a way no other man did.

'Didn't I see you leaving one of the barracasT he asked, so suddenly that it took her a moment or two to bring herself back to earth.

Apart from anything else, he was the last person she wanted to discuss their vengeful tenant with, and neither was she happy about his questioning her visit. 'I did call on someone briefly,' she allowed, but he still didn't turn his head and look at her.

'Any reason why you chose that particular woman to visit?' he wanted to know, and she frowned.

'I hadn't much choice, as it happened,' she told him, 'she seemed to be lying in wait for me. But I didn't realise I needed permission to visit one of the tenants, Don Miguel; I'm sorry if I broke one of your rules!'

He turned briefly and looked at her over one shoulder as he lifted off the gelding's saddle, and it was much more difficult to meet his eyes than she would have believed. 'Don't be clever with me, Kirstie.' He spoke quietly, but there was a dark gleam in his eyes that resented her sarcasm. 'I'm rather surprised you have anything in common with a woman like Josefa Medina, that's all.'

'I have one thing at least,' she told him. 'We both know what it's like to lose our homes!' She stared at the

broad, unresponsive back and quite forgot that she had decided to speak to his uncle rather than say anything to him. 'She says you've given her notice to leave her cottage, poor woman. I didn't hke her much, but it seems very hard to be put out of her home.'

'You think we should go on housing a thief?*

The condemnation was so harshly said that she felt a shiver flutter along her spine for a moment. Then she recalled his having once told her that he had been obliged to dismiss one of the women for stealing, and how annoyed he had been at her reaction. It seemed he still saw her as condoning the woman's dishonesty.

'You told me about a woman you'd dismissed for stealing,' she said in a rather small voice. 'Is she the one?' Miguel nodded without turning or speaking, and Kirstie shifted uneasily. 'I—I didn't know that when I promised to do what I could for her.'

'And who were you going to ask for help, Kirstie?'

The quietness of his voice stirred alarming responses in her, and she moistened her lips anxiously before she answered him. 'Senor Montafies,' she said, then spoke up hastily in her own defence because she knew how he would blame her for not making him her object of appeal. 'He is the senior partner.'

'And you'd rather go to the devil himself than ask me for anything, wouldn't you, Kirstie?'

He still didn't turn and look at her, but the gelding's glossy coat flinched from the hard strokes of the hay-wisp, and she could see how tightly he held it. Her heart was thudding urgently and her eyes had a darkly defensive look as she watched him, but she couldn't let herself be beguiled again, not when she knew how bitterly he could disappoint her.

'It—it seemed hke the logical thing to do,' she murmured, both *hands clasped around the edge of the wooden partition and her cheek resting on her hands. 'Senor Montaiies is my employer, after all.'

Miguel ignored her, giving his whole attention to the gelding, and the strained silence eventually became un-

bearable. The logical thing to have done would have been to leave him and go back to the house, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to do that, and instead stood watching him, her mouth pursed reproachfully.

Then the stallion on the other side of the partition stamped his feet and snorted impatiently, tired of waiting his turn, and Kirstie reacted with the same impulsiveness she so often did. 'I might as well take care of Hassan,' she said. *At least I can get his saddle off.'

'No, Kirstie, leave it!'

The warning was so brusque and authoritative that just for a moment Kirstie heeded it instinctively, and stopped just around the corner of the partition. But there was no reason why she couldn't cope, for she had been taking tack on and off horses for most of her life, and although the stallion was a bit bigger than average there was no reason why she couldn't lift off his saddle.

Presumably Miguel had assumed she would obey, for after a moment or two of listening silence she again heard the hay-wisp in action and slipped alongside the stallion in his stall. Undoing the buckle of the girth-strap was easy, but reaching up to take off the saddle, she discovered, required more height than she had, and it was heavy. She might have got away with it even so, if the animal hadn't shifted suddenly in his impatience and put her off balance. With a cry of surprise she fell forward and landed face down between the horse's feet, with the saddle wedged uncomfortably underneath her.

'Kirstie!' Miguel came round the end of the partition and grabbed her swiftly from between the stallion's restless hooves, then pinned her back against the partition and glared at her with fierce dark eyes. 'In the name of all that's holy, what are you trying to do?' he demanded, and added as an afterthought, 'Are you hurt?' Breathlessly Kirstie shook her head, but he thrust a hand under her chin and forced her head up so that he could look into her face. 'Are you sure?'

'I'm quite sure, thank you.'

Her voice was husky and shivered with uncertainty, but that had as much to do with his being so close as with being pulled around, and as he peered into her face and frowned, his mouth hovered much too close for comfort. 'He could have trampled all over you, do you realise that?' he asked. 'Why didn't you do as I said and leave him to me?'

'I—I don't know.'

Her voice wavered unsteadily and her breast rose and fell with the unevenness of her breathing, and as he leaned towards her his body touched hers with a Hght evocative touch that almost shattered her self-control. 'I do,' Miguel said softly. 'You just don't Hke doing as you're told, do you?'

'There's no reason why I should,' Kirstie gasped in a last effort to keep control of the situation, but the pressure of his body holding her against the partition teased her unmercifully and she turned her head to avoid the hand under her chin. 'And I'm quite capable of unsaddling a horse, whether you believe it or not!'

'Not an animal the size and strength of Hassan,' Miguel insisted, and she tried to jerk herself free when he placed his hands on her shoulders and held her firmly. 'Don't let me see you near him again, Kirstie, nor Suli either, they're both too big for you to manage, so stay with something your own size, eh?'

'I was trying to help,' she insisted, and a faint smile touched his mouth for a moment.

'I can manage,' he told her.

'And so could I have done if the silly creature hadn't moved away,' Kirstie retorted. 'And I do wish you'd stop treating me like a sweet, helpless little five-year-old, Don Miguel—I'm getting a Httle tired of it!'

His fingers pressed into her shoulders hard for a moment until she shrugged in protest and there was a gleam in his eyes that sent shivers all through her body. Still keeping his hold on her, he pulled her away from the proximity of the impatiently snorting stallion and out of the cramped confines of the stall, and she

gasped when he pushed her roughly against the stone outer wall and kept her there with the pressure of his body.

His face was so close that every word he spoke breathed warmly against her mouth and teased her senses until she looked up at him in mingled defiance and anticipation. 'Holy Mother,* he declared, 'no one could accuse you of being a sweet little anything! You're the most determinedly aggressive female I've ever met, and I'm tempted to sweeten your temper in a way you won't forget; I'm sure your grandfather would thank me for it! Why do you do it? I don't see you behaving Hke this with ray uncle or Luis!'

The heat of his body was like a fire that drew her to it irresistibly until she actually felt the rippling muscles under the skin, and the hard, steady beat of his heart. They're—they're different,' she whispered, and widened her eyes in surpise when he laughed suddenly.

'Would they like that?'

His eyes had a faintly mocking and infinitely disturbing look and she shook her head, tossing her long black hair back and forth until it flicked across his face. A strand of it caught on the moistness of his lips and his eyes, heavy-lidded and black as jet, looked down at her steadily as he took the straying wisp and pressed it briefly to his mouth before brushing it back with the rest from her neck.

SHding his hands around her, he drew her away from the wall and into his arms, and the touch of him kindled such a wild exultant joy in her that it forced a cry from her hps as he swept her against him. Just briefly something stirred in her brain that fought against the wild abandon of her response, but the moment Miguel took her mouth it was forgotten, swept away by the tumult of emotion that consumed her as she lifted her arms to encircle his neck.

The vibrant force of his desire shivered through her and she clung to him, letting herself be swept along, unresisting and eager, burning with the same force that

fired him. Not even the tread of booted feet on the stone sets outside meant anything for several moments, and then it was Kirstie who first became aware that they were no longer alone. She fought for breath to tell Miguel while he murmured wordless sounds in the muffling softness of her hair.

* Miguel!' The harsh voice and imperious tone could only belong to Rosa Montaiies and as she heard it Kirstie's heart skipped in sudden panic.

She used both hands to push Miguel away and looked at the woman standing in the open doorway of the stable, eyes blazing with fury and her hands tightly clenched. His hastily assumed calm would have fooled her if she had not been close enough still to feel the intensity of passion that still burned in him and made her tremble, and he put her from him with such obvious reluctance Rosa could not help but have noticed it.

'Rosa?'

If he intended questioning her reason for being there Rosa left him in no doubt. She darted quickly forward and grabbed a handful of Kirstie's hair, tugging viciously hard as she swung her round by it and almost brought her to her knees. 'Bitch!' she screamed in a harsh flat voice. 'You murderous, deceitful little bitch!'

'Rosa, in God's name!'

Miguel gripped both her hands and hung on, a bruising grip that must have hurt, but which served to make her let go, and his eyes burned as furiously as Rosa's did. Recovering slightly, Kirstie stood with both hands to her tingling scalp, staring in disbelief at the vengeful woman who now stood gripped in Miguel's relentless hold.

'Kirstie.' He let go the other woman's hands and reached for hers, but Kirstie drew back out of reach.

'Please don't!'

How could she have been such a fool as to let herself become involved in a situation that was bound to have repercussions one way or another? She had promised

herself it would never happen again, but she had succumbed as she had done before to the special kind of power that Miguel seemed to have, and now Rosa Montanes had even more reason to hate her. At the moment she found it very hard to think clearly and all she knew for certain was that she wanted to be as far away as possible from both of them. If she had need of proof that what Luis had said was true, Rosa had just demonstrated it; she meant to marry Miguel and she would fight tooth and nail to get him, and at the moment Kirstie didn't feel equal to the contest. She turned and hurried away, angry, hurt, and tearful.

The story she told her grandfather was a httle less than the truth, for he knew by now how much Rosa Montanes disliked her, but the shock that awaited her on Monday morning when she reported for work was unexpected. It was Enrique who broke it to her that she was not to be allowed to visit the stables again and take out Scheherazade for their customary rides.

*Vm very sorry about it, my dear,' Enrique told her, and she could not doubt that his regret was genuine. 'I know how you enjoy your riding, but Miguel agrees with me that it's for the best while my daughter-in-law is here. I'm sure you understand.'

'Yes, of course I understand,'

She had made no protest, laid no blame, for she knew just how much pressure would have been put on Enrique to get rid of her altogether, and she could only thank heaven that she at least still had her job. But to be forbidden to see her beloved horse was harsh punishment indeed, and she burned with resentment at the injustice of it. She had responded readily enough to Miguel's kiss, she couldn't deny it, but it had been Miguel who initiated the situation, and now it seemed he was in complete agreement with the decision to ban her from riding for as long as Rosa Montanes was around.