The Christmas Treasure (6 page)

Lorilla's breath caught somewhere between her chest and her throat. "I…um…believe we should talk," she croaked.
 

Gabriel cocked one eyebrow at her, then walked over to his desk and sat behind it. If she didn't know better, she might think he was afraid of her. It was a common tactic Jeremy, her youngest stepbrother, used. Whenever Lorilla scolded him, he would scoot behind a chair or a table, as if the furniture could protect him from her sharp tongue.
 

Gabriel pushed the lantern to the far corner of the desk, shrouding himself in darkness. Frustrated by his deliberate attempts to distance himself from her, Lorilla decided that if he were going to act like a child, she would treat him like one.
 

She turned to look at the heavy curtains that hid the windows. A quick perusal disclosed the cord. She drew it, flooding the room with sunlight. "That's better."
 

"What are you doing?!" Gabriel thundered. "Close them."
 

Wincing at the anger in his voice, Lorilla bravely faced him and folded her arms. "I believe we need to talk."
 

Gabriel squinted in the sunlight and pushed a hand through his hair. It immediately fell over his forehead. "Josepha!" he bellowed.
 

Lorilla jumped.
 

Josepha stuck her head in the door, eyes wide. "
Senor? Buenos dias
."
 

"Coffee," he growled. "Now!"
 

Josepha shot a surprised glance at Lorilla, then exited the room.
 

Lorilla took a seat in an intricately carved armchair in front of the desk. "I'll wait until you get your coffee."
 

The look he shot her was dark enough to overpower the sunlight.
 

Half-amused and half-frightened, Lorilla folded her hands. Now what? She had barged into his office, insisting that he talk to her. What was she going to talk about? Last night? Hardly. She didn't even have words to use for the intimacy that had passed between them. What then? Their marriage? His repeated references to their 'arrangement'?  Her stepfather, who must have told Gabriel some untruth about her?
 

Although she stared at her hands, she knew Gabriel was watching her. His gaze burned through her, and she suppressed a shiver. It would probably take a hundred years to become used to his intense blue eyes. Nervously, she moistened her lips with her tongue.
 

Thankfully, Josepha soon returned with a tray and poured Gabriel a steaming cup of coffee. "I brought you some pastries, Senor," Josepha said quietly.
 

"Thank you," he growled. "Go."
 

Josepha turned and winked at Lorilla as she passed her. Lorilla stifled a small chuckle at the woman's impudence.
 

Gabriel drank the entire cup of coffee while never taking his eyes off Lorilla. Sitting still, waiting for him to finish, she was more uncomfortable than she could ever remember being. Her foot itched, her shoulders and back ached, a tendril of hair fell and tickled her cheek. But she gritted her teeth and by some miracle, she didn't budge.
 

She was in charge of this situation, as long as she could remain calm. Eventually he would squirm. Or at least that's what her stepbrothers did. Until they finally grew larger than her, a small voice reminded her. Until Ray's influence overrode hers and they began to ignore her and treat her like a servant, just as Ray had. She pushed that voice away, and concentrated on the knowledge, or the hope, that Gabriel was less comfortable than she.
 

Finally, he set his coffee cup down and leaned back in his chair.
 

Lorilla took a deep breath and prepared to speak.
 

"Would you like some coffee?" Gabriel asked.
 

"Wh-what?" she stammered, then clamped her lips shut. He was trying to take control. She subtly wiped her palms on her skirt.
 

He obviously had no idea who he was dealing with. She had raised three stepbrothers. She understood men…well, boys. She moved to stand, but before she could arrange her skirts, Gabriel was out of his chair and around his desk, so close to her she could smell his unique woodsy scent. Towering over her, he propped one hip on the desk and folded his arms. His breeches were of fine buckskin and stretched tightly across the front, revealing a hint of what she had felt last night. She dropped her gaze.
 

"Well, Senora. You said we needed to talk. I'm listening."
 

Quelling an urge to slide sideways out of the chair and run, like Jeremy would, Lorilla lifted her gaze to his. His unnerving eyes were narrowed, the dark brows furrowed. He was in a foul mood if she had ever seen one. Her heart fluttered. "I don't quite know where to start."
 

He laughed, the same harsh sound she had heard before. It increased the fluttering of her heart and clogged her throat. She had already learned to be cautious of that harsh laugh.
 

"Perhaps we should start with what I discovered this morning."
 

His voice was so bitter, so controlled, that Lorilla couldn't bear to look at him. "What do you mean?"
 

"You know damn--" he drew in a shuddering breath. "You know what I mean."
 

Lorilla was very afraid she did. From her meager store of knowledge, she gathered there was something there, some barrier, which only a husband should penetrate. Her face flamed as she forced herself to speak of things a well-bred woman should never say. "I am not experienced, sir, but I thought a husband preferred his bride that way."
 

Gabe growled. There was no other description that fit. He growled at her. Her hand went unconsciously to her heart; it was pounding so hard.
 

"You duped me."
 

She shook her head slowly. Why was he so angry? "I duped you? How?"
 

He hit the desk with his palm and stood. Lorilla couldn't get used to how quickly, how fluidly he moved. He had the grace of a big cat, and its swiftness. Add to that the animal growl and his resemblance to a wild cat did little to calm her nerves.
 

He stared out the large windows into the rising sun, standing, legs apart, one fist clenched at his side, the other propped akimbo on his hip. She remembered the long cords of muscle and tendon that his breeches and the loose white shirt covered. That memory brought others, of his mouth moving seductively over hers, his hands touching her intimately, and then lastly, the thing that angered him so. The thing she had never even dreamed of until last night, but that she now couldn't get out of her mind.
 

He whirled, towering over her, anger emanating from him like sparks from a fire. Lorilla jumped.
 

"I paid you five thousand dollars to come here and marry me. I was given to understand I had acquired a widow who had borne and lost a son. You were perfect. You were experienced; you had proven you could bear children.  But you played me for a fool. You took my money and lied to me. Plus, you managed to have a physician and a lawyer lie to me as well. Tell me, Senora Beltran, how is it that I find myself married to a virgin when I purchased an experienced woman?"
 

Lorilla's brain whirled with everything he'd just thrown at her. Then one of the things he said sank in and her own anger began to grow. She stood, making herself as tall as she possibly could, which still left her several inches shorter than him.
 

"
Purchased
? You purchased--how dare you!" She clenched her fists, feeling powerless against his superior size and strength." Her brain still whirled, but the awful truth began to dawn. "You paid for me," she croaked. "Oh no. You…you did not see me from afar and offer for my hand…" she trailed off as she saw shock widen his eyes.
 

Her hand flew to her mouth and shame too deep for blushes overtook her entire being, leaving her arms and legs as weak and shaky as a newborn colt's. "Oh my God," she whispered. "Ray."
 

"Rilla, are you all right?"
 

The change in his voice registered somewhere deep in her subconscious, but the newly forming realization of what her stepfather had done pushed all other thoughts out of her head. She sat down abruptly, as tears of shame formed in her eyes and a queer sense of loss overwhelmed her. "It was Ray. Oh, God. He duped us both," she whispered, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
 

"What are you talking about, Lorilla?"
 

"My stepfather told me…" she couldn't continue. The hurt was too grievous, the humiliation too profound. Inside her, the words her stepfather had taunted her with ever since her mother had died suddenly began to bubble up as noxious and as ugly as swamp gas.
Ugly, awkward, idiot.
 

Gabriel Beltran did not want her. What a silly fool she was. She had believed Ray's lies, believed that someone actually wanted her enough to send for her, because she'd been so desperate to get away from him and his spoiled sons. She should have known better. No one had ever wanted her, not for a long, long time.
 

"Senora." The controlled anger was back in his voice. "What did your stepfather tell you?"
 

She shook her head. She couldn't talk. She couldn't even raise her head. She felt sick with shame.
 

"Talk to me!" he thundered.
 

Too wrapped up in her own misery to even be startled by his shout, Lorilla merely complied. "My stepfather told me there was a rich man, an older man, who had seen me somewhere in St. Louis. He told me…" a quiet sob escaped her numbed lips, and she covered her mouth to stop it. When she could breathe normally again, she continued dully. "He told me the man…you, admired me so much that you wanted to marry me."
 

Gabe cursed. "Are you trying to tell me that you received none of the five thousand dollars? That your stepfather sold you?"
 

A flicker of the anger which had all but dissolved in the wake of her shame and shock resurfaced. She met his gaze and lifted her chin. "That shocks you? You, who
purchased
me."
 

An odd look crossed his face, but he only waved his hand. "Not the same thing."
 

Lorilla fumed at his careless dismissal of what he'd done. She drew in courage with a deep breath and stood, praying her shaky legs would hold her up. "It is exactly the same thing."
 

She heard the woman at the church's words in her head.
A son to carry on the Beltran name
. All he wanted was a child. She blinked back tears. She refused to take that last step toward complete humiliation.
 

"Now, sir, since you were so considerate as to leave me inviolate last night," her face flamed, but she continued, "in the eyes of the church, we are not married. You may begin proceedings for an annulment."
 

"Annulment?" His brows rose.
 

"Certainly. You were duped. You have the right to turn me out." Lorilla turned toward the door. "I am sure you will want to continue your search for a brood mare to fulfill your purpose."
 

He flinched. "That's crude."
 

"Oh? How would you describe it?"
 

"What will you do?" His voice changed, softened. He sounded concerned.
 

Lorilla forced herself not to hear it. It would not do to become maudlin over a man or a dream that was out of her reach.
 

"Go home, I suppose." She heard the bitter note in her voice, and the doubt. If Ray had gone to such trouble to get rid of her, would she be able to go back? She did miss her stepbrothers--well, Jeremy anyway. Her youngest stepbrother was not yet old enough to be totally under the influence of his father.
 

Lorilla furtively wiped her eyes and turned. "Senor Beltran, I am truly sorry for what my stepfather did. I assure you I had no idea. I should have been suspicious when he seemed so happy for me. It was not like him. I will leave straight-away."
 

Gabe laughed harshly.
 

Lorilla had already come to despise that bitter laugh.
 

"This is not St. Louis, Rilla."
 

She cringed at his sarcasm combined with his pet name for her.
 

"Nor is it Rome," he continued. "The wagon train will not leave for several weeks. Besides, a petition for annulment must be approved by the Pope. You may remain here."
 

Her heart pounded. Was he being kind or merely practical? She studied his face, but even his eyes revealed nothing of his thoughts. "Thank you. That is very kind of you. I will have Josepha move my things."
 

"That…" he stepped toward her, "won't be necessary. You may stay in your dressing room and use the sitting room as you like. I'm rarely there anyway."
 

She nodded, then turned and reached for the doorknob. His large hand stopped hers. Lorilla closed her eyes. His warm strength drew her like a fire. She would never forget the safe, delicious comfort of his body wrapped protectively around her in bed. Nor his large, warm hands or his fierce but gentle kiss. She could have learned to like being cared for.
 

"Lorilla? Why were you not suspicious of your stepfather's story of a man who loved you from afar, if being kind to you was so unlike him?"
 

Without raising her head or opening her eyes, and without really thinking about the consequences, Lorilla answered him. "I just wanted so badly for it to be true."
 

Gabriel recoiled, jerking his hand from hers as if it were hot.
 

She grimaced as she realized what she had said. Now she had plumbed the depths of humiliation, admitting how much she had wanted someone to care for her. She pulled open the door.