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Beautiful Rose

Beautiful Rose


Book excerpt

Chapter 1 

“Fight me, you bastard!” Esteban shouted, throwing a punch at his former schoolmate.

“No, I won’t fight,” Vidal retorted, neither retreating nor retaliating. The blow hit his shoulder, knocking him back two steps.

“You knew she was mine,” Esteban bellowed. “You tried to take her from me.”

Vidal held up both hands, urging calm. “No, you’re wrong. I had no idea. She said you left her ages ago. If I had known, I would never have courted her. She came to me.”

Esteban’s gritted teeth resembled the snarl of a lion. “Liar. Are you implying she was false to me?”

“I imply nothing,” Vidal said. “I’m only telling you the truth. I didn’t know you and she were still betrothed, I swear it. Come on, Esteban, let’s stop fighting and talk.”

“No, I won’t listen to you.”

All around the harvest festival, the revelers had stopped to stare at the spectacle of their boss, wealthy landowner Vidal Salazar, trying to talk down his hot-tempered former friend, Esteban Medrano.

The soldier threw another punch, at Vidal’s face this time. Vidal dodged. Thrown off balance, Esteban stumbled, landing on the dry stalk of an already harvested grapevine. The golden leaves crackled under his weight. It would have been the perfect opportunity for Vidal to knock him down, to end the fight, but he didn’t.

“Fight, damn you,” Esteban howled.

“No. I won’t fight,” Vidal insisted. “This isn’t the way.”

Esteban paused. “Why won’t you fight me?”

Vidal grimaced. “What purpose would it serve? It’s up to the lady to choose her man, don’t you think? Now, if you would just settle down, we can answer this question quickly. Señorita Flores, come here, please. We have a question to ask you.”

The dark beauty broke free of the crowd of onlookers, head high. Vidal’s heart beat faster at the sight of her. Dios mío, she’s beautiful. “There seems to be a question, querida, over which man is your intended. Now, I know you and your father agreed that you would marry me, but Señor Medrano is under the impression you made similar promises to him. Would you please explain to us both exactly who you plan to marry?”

She looked from one man to the other, considering. In the silence, a little breeze sprang up. The leaves and stems of the vineyard murmured loudly in the uncomfortable silence.

At last she spoke. “Well, that’s hard to say.”

Esteban gaped at her. “Carmen, what do you mean? We’ve been engaged for two years.”

She tossed her head, sending a wisp of black hair dancing on the breeze. “Yes, but ever since you decided to join the army, you’ve had no time for me. Now that the Queen is gone, will things be different, Esteban? Will you continue to pursue glory and ignore me, even to the point of pursuing other women if they can better support your cause? Don Vidal here pays me a great deal of attention, and he’s wealthier than you. Look at all that would be mine if I married him instead.”

Esteban’s face crumpled. “You can’t love him. You don’t even know him.”

Carmen refused to back down. “I’ve gotten to know him over these last few months. He is quite the desirable gentleman. It wouldn’t be hard to love the life he’s offering me. What do you have to offer instead?”

The life? Damnation, it is about my wealth. Vidal gulped. A sensation of icy cold swirled in the pit of his belly. I don’t like the direction this is going.

Esteban’s expression turned unguarded and sorrowful. “Nothing to compete with this. A villa by the sea with the man who loves you.”

At last, she met the dark eyes of the impassioned soldier. “Do you love me, Esteban? Do you really? You haven’t shown it in a long time.”

He hung his head in shame. “I know. I was caught up in the war. You can’t imagine what that was like, Carmen. It was bloody, terrifying, and glorious, but now it’s over. There’s nothing left to draw me away. Come with me, querida. Let me take you to the sea, to my home in Cádiz. We can be married right away.” He extended his hand.

She gave him a long look and then, without a backward glance at Vidal, placed her hand in his.

Vidal stared after the departing couple, numb with shock. “My life will never be the same,” he murmured under his breath as he watched Esteban lead Carmen away forever.

His servants, horrified at the unexpected turn of events, fled in silence.

And he was alone.

But Vidal was not as alone as he thought. A slender woman with brilliant green eyes walked quietly over to where he stood and laid her hand on his arm.

He jumped and then whirled around to face the one who had dared to intrude upon his solitude. “Qué quieres?” he asked rudely, his tone was soft but icy. Barely suppressed emotion turned his voice raw.

She winced. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

Vidal stared for a long moment, struggling to understand Rosalind’s sudden appearance, but he couldn’t summon up an ounce of patience, even for someone he considered a friend. “I doubt that anything can help at this point. Just leave me alone.” He turned away.

She laid a hand on his arm. “Surely there must be something, anything. Only let me try.”

I want to be alone, damn it. Why on earth does she keep insisting? “There is nothing, Señorita, thank you.” He spoke more gently now. “Please just leave.”

“At least let me keep you company,” she insisted. “It’s not good for you to be alone.”

Giving him no chance to argue, she took his hand, leading him back through the orchards stripped of their luscious fruit, the bare vineyards, the stubbly fields, toward his house.

He allowed it. He had no will left to fight, so he followed her blindly, oblivious to the strong Spanish sun, the teasing hint of a cool breeze, the rich smells of the food which had been prepared for the now-canceled festival. His beloved home—smooth white stucco with a tan tile roof and a tall row of red bricks along the ground—barely registered on his senses as he passed through heavy square doors he had spent so many hours selecting.

He felt like a ghost. None of it mattered. He wondered vaguely if this whole wretched situation was nothing more than a terrible dream. Surely, I’ll wake up and find Carmen still here, Esteban still away in the army, and me still a soon-to-be-husband instead of the thirty-four-year-old bachelor with no prospects I’ve just become.

I’ve waited my whole life for a woman like Carmen. What wrong with me? Surely my wealth alone should have been enough. Perhaps the temptation of my money and property caused her to lead me on all this time.

Vidal snapped back to reality when Rosalind pressed him into a familiar leather chair in his study, where the two of them had spent so many hours working together. Her choice made sense. Both of them felt comfortable in this private place, far from the memory of Carmen and her treachery.

Rosalind dragged her chair from its usual position at her dainty roll-top desk, across the room. Sinking to a seat beside Vidal, she took his hand in hers. After a long moment, she said softly, “How are you feeling, Vidal?”

She managed to startle him, dropping his title. Several blinking moments passed before he registered her question. “How the hell do you think I feel?” he growled at last. “The woman I love just left me for another man.”

“I imagine you feel angry, sad and probably a little unworthy,” she replied softly. “Both of the first are understandable, but not the last. You are the best of men, Vidal.”

“Then why did she leave? Why? What did I neglect to do, to say?” He tossed his free hand into the air.

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong. She is the unworthy one, not you.” The brilliant eyes pleaded with him.

He didn’t believe her.

He could see she realized it because she tried again. “You are a perfect gentleman. Any woman of intelligence would want you.”

On a distant level, he appreciated what she was trying to do. Though I would have preferred to wallow in misery, this is probably better for me. If I have to have company, Rosalind is the best option.

He squeezed her hand gently, and then laced his fingers through hers. For many minutes they sat side by side in silence, knee to knee, clasping each other’s hands as she sought to draw all of his pain into herself.

“What has happened to you, my dear one?” she asked tenderly. “How did this woman hurt you so much? Who is she? Where did she come from? You haven’t summoned me to translate any documents in ages. I feel like I’ve missed the last half-year of your life, and the gossip… Oh, God, Vidal. I never knew if I could believe a word of it.” She bit her lip, and he saw it trembled. Rubbing her nose, she blinked hard, and when she opened the lids, her eyes shone with tears.

Why this sorrow? I never knew such eyes as hers. “I’ve been so distracted,” he said lamely. “I hope my business doesn’t suffer… for nothing.” He shook his head. “What a disaster. I can’t believe I… no, never mind.”

“Tell me,” Rosalind begged as she held his hand in hers.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Vidal turned his face away.

She brought him back with caressing fingers on his cheek. “Holding it all in won’t help you heal. Please.”

* * *

You’re a fool, Rosalind Carlisle, to ask such a thing. Hearing Vidal talk about the woman he loved would be as painful to her as it was to him.

He regarded her in silence for a long moment. Then the whole story came out in an unstoppable gush. “Carmen Flores is the daughter of the representative from that little shipping company I bought six months ago. He brought her with him when he came to meet me. He told me she had ended an engagement with an old acquaintance of mine from the university, who was determined to join the fight to expel the queen. Carmen didn’t want Esteban to go, because it would delay their marriage, and because of the danger. He refused to listen, so she broke things off with him. Her father assured me that the relationship was long over.”

He paused, and Rosalind squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue.

“Over the weeks of negotiations, she visited frequently, and after that, the courtship continued for almost half a year. It was clear her father wanted her for me, but she hesitated to commit, claiming she feared another broken heart.”

He passed a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes. “Ah, she was so lovely. Such a perfect Spanish lady. She could flirt with the flutter of a fan to tease a man beyond the wildest kisses. The touch of her hand on my sleeve overpowered me.”

“Was she your lover, Don Vidal?” Rosalind interrupted gently, her heart thumping as she asked for information she didn’t want.

He shook his head. “No, never that. She wouldn’t even let me kiss her. She confessed once that she had allowed Esteban the liberty, and his respect for her feelings died with the kiss. He left for the army the next week. I couldn’t help but honor her request, so, I courted her for months with the utmost propriety and finally asked her father for her hand. He agreed. Our engagement was to be announced at the festival, as you probably heard.”

Rosalind nodded.

“How was I to know that Esteban had returned? The war has been over for a year. I didn’t know her heart was not free. I would never have committed…” His voice broke. “If I had known.” He closed his eyes.

She said nothing, having no idea where to begin. She longed to embrace him but didn’t dare until he made some sign that he would accept it. Instead, she merely waited, his misery cutting like a blade into her soul.

* * *

Vidal concentrated on breathing, not speaking. Somehow, I will survive this. I don’t know how, but I will. After what seemed like an eternity, he looked up and studied Rosalind’s face. She said nothing, but her emerald eyes were wide with sorrow. Brilliant unshed tears twinkled in them.

“What is it, Rosalinda?”

“I can’t bear to see you in so much pain,” she whispered.

He reacted without thinking, pulling at her arms until she tumbled into his lap. He embraced her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him. In some unexplainable way, her empathy lanced the wound festering in his heart like a surgeon’s scalpel and let his pent-up emotions out. He had known he would eventually let go but had hoped to wait until he was alone.

Now, with Rosalind in his arms, he allowed himself to feel the pain of his loss. He trembled, beyond shame, as the grief washed over him. So, she bears witness to my weakness. What does it matter? Nothing matters without Carmen.

How long they stayed locked together in a crushing embrace, neither of them knew. It felt like an eternity. Finally, Vidal gathered his wits. His outpouring of emotion left him feeling vulnerable, and he drew back, scrubbing at his forehead with one hand.

Rosalind, seeming to realize at last the impropriety of their position, slid off Vidal’s lap.

Paralyzing desolation washed over him. He grasped her slender wrist. “Don’t go,” he whispered. “Please don’t leave me.”

She ran a gentle hand over his cheek, stroking his beard. His skin tingled, shooting warmth down his torso.

“As you wish,” she told him. “I’m here. I will give you anything, if only you ask.”

He rose from the chair and embraced her again. She wrapped her arms around him. More heat welled up in his insides. This time, it shot to his groin. “Why are you so kind to me?” he asked her, startled by the unexpected sensation and the woman who had generated it.

“I care for you, Vidal. Ask me for anything you want, and I will give it to you, even my life.” The depths of her soul sparkled in her emerald eyes.

I said very nearly those same words to Carmen once, not long ago. It was a pledge of love. Surely, she can’t mean it the same way. He didn’t stop to think what the implications might ultimately be. He placed his hand under her chin and tipped her head up so that he looked directly into his eyes. She didn’t shy away, but gazed back, bolder than he had ever seen her before.

“Spend the night with me.” The words slipped out before he could stop them.

Vidal snapped his mouth shut, appalled at himself. What’s wrong with you, man? Here, she offers you comfort, and you request… sex?

“It would be an easy way to stop thinking about Carmen for a time,” the sly voice of temptation reminded him, calling his attention to the pleasing way in which her curves molded to his body.

No, Vidal reminded his straining erection. It’s wrong to invite one woman to my bed while thinking of another. How could I even suggest using my unexpected source of support in such a way? Surely now she’ll turn away from me.

Rosalind blinked in surprise, her luminous eyes suddenly round.

Vidal could have kicked himself. What a deplorable request to make, his conscience scolded. “I’m sorry, Rosalinda,” he said quickly, “I spoke without thinking. I certainly don’t want you to…”

She put her hand over his mouth, silencing him, and then met his eyes with that same directness that had disconcerted him a moment ago. “Anything,” she said softly, then rose on tiptoes and pressed a shy kiss to Vidal’s cheek.

Her acceptance shocked him. She agreed? She must know what I’m asking, or her cheeks would not be quite so pink, yet she acquiesced to my scandalous proposition.

Blackwing

Blackwing

With Her Fists

With Her Fists