How could he face her again, with the knowledge of his failure between them? Christ, he’d chased her across half of Mexico and even the world at times, angry with her, too damn stubborn to admit even to himself that he loved her. But he had never once considered that he might lose her with his arrogance.
He remembered Concepciόn’s wailing lament so long ago when he had ridden after Ginny, a futile noble gesture to save Ginny. “He goes for her, that green-eyed woman.”
It seemed that he was always going after Ginny, always trying to catch her.
Would he never learn to hold her tightly?
34
It was cold that high up in the mountains, and Ginny shivered beneath the thin blanket draped over her shoulders. Rafael Luna seemed quite comfortable, even lighthearted as he sat by a fire built under an overhang of rock.
“As a soldier, I learned survival in any situation, chica, so do not worry that I cannot properly care for you out here. Of course I can. It is not so bad, eh? We will be at the end of our journey soon enough, once I am certain we are being followed.”
“You want us to be followed?”
Luna chuckled. “But of course! Why do you think I brought you with me? It would do me no good to leave on my own, for then, it may well be thought of as good riddance. But with you, my lovely puta, I am assured that I will have what I want soon enough.”
“I don’t understand.” Ginny stared at him in the faint flickering light of the fire; Luna was stretched out, his long legs crossed negligently at the ankles, and the tip of a cigar glowed bright red in the night air. “Why go to all this trouble?”
“I have my reasons. But you look so sad, pequeña. What is the matter? Are you afraid I will hurt your husband?”
“Hardly,” she said in a cutting tone that made his eyes narrow. “Steve Morgan will slice you to ribbons and filet your heart before you have the chance to move. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating him. It could be fatal for you.”
“And so you warn me. Is it possible you have developed a little softness for me? Ah, I see you glaring at me as if I insulted you. But it is true, is it not? I know women like you. You have the nature of a true whore, passionate and fiery.”
Refusing to allow herself to be goaded, Ginny looked away from him; stunted trees were misshapen silhouettes against the night sky, assuming fantastical shapes that made her think of monsters, the stuff of nightmares. But it was the real nightmares that were so dangerous, the men like Rafael Luna.
Within three days, they were high in the mountains of Durango. They had ridden through Zacatecas, as familiar to Ginny as her own face in the mirror. Was Steve following them? Oh God, did he even know that she’d been taken hostage by this madman?
By now, surely he should have overtaken them. But what if he wasn’t coming? Doubts tormented her, and even when they stopped in a small village posada for the night, with a bed and decent food, she was tense and on edge. It didn’t help that she was sick, wracked in turn by fever and chills. She tried to ignore it. Her very survival depended upon concentration.
“Where are we?” she asked, and he surprised her by answering.
“Not far from Parral. Ah, you know it?”
She nodded. “Yes. I went there once, several years ago, when it was occupied by the French. Where are we going?”
“That depends on how swift your husband is. If all goes as I plan, this humble abode may be our final destination.”
When she stared at him, he laughed. “You may soon have a chance to see your husband alive. Are you getting anxious? Perhaps he will be so obliging as to reach us tonight. If not…there is tomorrow night. But he will come. I have made certain of that.”
A chill went down her spine at the malevolence in his tone, and she prayed for rescue. Oh, what was taking Steve so long? He would come, wouldn’t he? Did he suspect that Luna planned an ambush for him? Surely he must realize that the Spaniard was consumed with jealousy, deranged enough to go to elaborate lengths just for vengeance. Oh God, if only she could get a message to Steve!
Luna brought a bottle of wine to the dingy room in the cheap posada, and with a faint, sneering smile, set it on the scarred table beneath the window.
“Tonight, chica, we shall celebrate.”
“I’m in no mood for a celebration,” Ginny said tartly.
Luna crossed the room to where she was tied to the bed—his first action upon bringing her inside—and squeezed her chin painfully between his fingers.
“But I am in a mood to celebrate, so you will humor me. Ah, if your eyes were daggers, I would be pierced to the heart! Such lovely eyes, so green…and your mouth—it has been too long since I have enjoyed you. Are you feeling lonely or abandoned? I will rectify that soon, I promise, my sweet. Before this is over, we will enjoy each other. I know how you wait for it, and how you long for me.”
Ginny shuddered and he laughed, then flicked his fingers against her cheek before he sat back. He used her small dagger to slice the leather straps tying her to the bed, then stabbed it into the wall, as if to offer her a challenge. The hilt quivered slightly as Ginny glanced at it, temptation casting a shadow against the cracked surface.
“Do you wish to use it on
