CHAPTER SEVEN
Any semblance of rational thought fled Diego's mind, leaving nothing but
pure carnal lust in its place. He ran his hands up and down her voluptuous
curves, probing her mouth with his tongue. Hers entwined with his, the taste
of her engulfing his senses. Unbidden, the memory of kissing Victoria in
much the same manner that same evening, flooded his mind, filling him guilt.
"No, wait. . ." he said after lifting his lips from hers, "I cannot do this.
. ."
"Yes, you can," Violetta purred, rubbing herself against the obvious bulge
in his trousers. He groaned helplessly, making a feeble attempt to push her
away. She gave a husky laugh as she pressed herself tighter. "You want me,
Diego."
He shook his head, despite knowing she was right. "I don't know what comes
over me when I am around you," he murmured. "I cannot seem to control myself.
If I believed in such nonsense, I would swear you have placed some sort of
spell upon me."
"So I have bewitched you, have I?" she said as she coiled her fingers through
his hair.
"No, that is not what I meant," he replied. "That would be impossible." He
then made the mistake of looking into her chocolate brown eyes, seeing the
desire and vulnerability in their depths.
"Nothing is impossible, if you want it enough." She touched her mouth to
his, a kiss he responded to in a way which made him ache when she pulled
back. "And I think you do."
Dios mio, he did. He wanted her more than anything in the world at
that moment. But he had to say no, didn't he? But why? a little voice
in his head demanded to know. She was a widow, he was a bachelor. He hadn't
had a woman since before he had left Spain. He should still say no, although
for the life of him, he couldn't think of a good reason. . .
He was startled out of his struggling thoughts when he realized she had finished
unbuttoning his shirt and was pushing it off his shoulders. His bared skin
tingled as he could feel the heat of her body, smell her scent of violets
and silk and woman. "Come, Diego," she said as she put her hand in his and
moved toward the bed.
Foolishly, he obeyed, staring hungrily as she shed her gown, then arranged
herself against the pillows, her legs spread shamelessly. His clothing joined
hers on the floor, then he joined her on the bed.
Z Z Z
Diego stumbled toward the dining room late the next morning, hoping against
hope Violetta had already eaten her breakfast or was still asleep so he wouldn't
have to meet her face to face. She had slipped out of his room sometime before
dawn, much to his relief. Although her scent still lingered on his sheets
and the images of what they had done still lingered in his mind.
He couldn't believe he had let his lust override his conscience. He had never
been an advocate of casual sexual encounters, but this was not the first
time his actions had belied those principles, much to his chagrin. Once again
praying he would not have deal with her, he walked into the room.
Where it became evident fate was not smiling down favorably on him that day.
Violetta sat alone at the table, pushing her food around her plate listlessly.
She lifted her eyes when she heard his step, and blushed when they met with
his. Both of them looked away quickly and Diego could feel his cheeks burn
as well. Maldita sea, this was awkward. What little appetite he had
had dissipated instantly, but he could hardly turn around and walk out, no
matter how much he desired to do so.
Instead he moved over to the sideboard and poured himself a cup of coffee,
noting she was drinking tea. With a teaspoon each of milk and sugar, no doubt.
Madre de Dios, he knew how she took her tea. Considering how intimately
he knew her, it seemed such a mundane thing, but somehow it felt more personal.
"Your father and my mother went out riding this morning." Her words snapped
him out of his troublesome thoughts. Diego glanced at her before sitting
down in a chair as far away from her as he could and remain in the same room.
Her head was bowed and she still toyed with her meal. Good, he thought callously,
she was as embarrassed as he was.
"Did they say when they would be back?" he asked in a calm tone which surprised
him, considering how agitated he felt.
Violetta laid down her fork. "Before luncheon," she replied. He watched as
she serenely took a sip from her cup. "I think my mother likes your father."
Setting his mug down with a thud, Diego digested that bit of knowledge. "I'm
sure she does. He's a wealthy landowner who still has all his hair and teeth."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
He ignored the wounded tone in her voice. "Exactly what it sounds like,"
he retorted. He got to his feet. "What happened last night. . . What we did.
. . It can never happen again."
And without giving her a chance to reply, he fled the room, heading straight
for the library. Noting it was empty, he ducked through the fireplace and
made his way into the cave. Once there, he strode over to the desk, wrenched
open a drawer, and extracted the letter. Taking a deep breath, he slipped
it from its envelope and unfolded it.
In the middle of the paper was one sentence which read, ‘I know who you
are.' It was unsigned.
Diego plopped down in his chair, vaguely disappointed. That was it? That
was the big mystery? Still, it was curious someone deemed those words important
enough to write them down and make certain they traversed to the other side
of the globe so he would see them. Important enough one man had possibly
died because of them.
And what did they mean? Did the author know he was Zorro? How could that
be possible? How could someone in Spain figure out he, Diego de la Vega,
was the masked man - the supposed terror of Los Angeles? Who was this person?
Was it someone he knew? Someone from university? And what connection did
he have to Violetta? And what did her deliberate seduction of him have to
do with any of this?
Maybe she had felt the same electricity between them as he had, and last
night's encounter had been inevitable. He hated to think it could be true.
He would hope to have more willpower, more control over his libido than he
had displayed the previous evening. Willpower and control he was going to
have to summon if he had any chance of keeping the vow he had tossed at her
in the dining room.
Z Z Z
Cursing himself as twenty times a fool, Diego tapped lightly on Violetta's
bedroom door. This was a bad idea. But he needed to apologize for
his rudeness. He had seen the hurt in her eyes too many times in the past
two days, and only he had the power to change that. Privacy had also been
hard to come by though. Don Alejandro and Señora Gomez (whose first
name he had learned was Emilia) had included both of them in their activities;
horseback rides, a picnic, and playing cards in the evening. This was the
only way he could say what he needed to say without being overheard by the
elder couple. Still, it was a horrible idea.
The door opened cautiously and Violetta's face appeared, first surprise then
anger crossing her beautiful features. "Go away," she hissed.
"I need to talk to you," he said, putting his hand out to keep her from shutting
the door in his face.
"Well, I don't want to talk to you."
"I've come to apologize," he explained, placing his foot into the open crack.
"Please."
She sighed. "Very well, come in." She moved aside as he stepped across the
threshold and closed the door behind him.
"I am very sorry about what I said about your mother," he began as she gazed
up at him with luminous eyes. "She is a very fine lady and I shouldn't have
insinuated she was after my father's money. It was quite wrong of me."
"Thank you," she said quietly. "I realized you were not thinking clearly
that morning."
No, he had not been thinking clearly since the day he met her. His brain
had been seized by a fever, one he didn't know how to cure. He had hoped
his lust would have been satisfied after their prior coupling, but it had
not been the case. If anything, he wanted her even more. Especially as she
stared up at him, wearing only her flimsy nightgown which inflamed his passions
once again.
Diego was not sure who moved first, only they came together in the middle
of the room, their mouths locked in a heated kiss, their hands stroking and
caressing each other. He wasn't even aware they were both naked until they
had tumbled onto her bed.
"Tell me to stop," he said, lifting his lips from hers, then moving them
down the length of her neck.
Her only response was to moan softly as she let her head fall back to allow
him better access. He needed to stop. He had to stop. They couldn't keep
doing this. This was a bad idea, he admonished himself as he stroked
her breast with one hand, such a bad idea. His mouth found hers again, causing
all coherent thought to flee.
Z Z Z
About a week later, a weary Diego was creeping out of Violetta's room about
an hour before dawn when the sound of footsteps froze him in his tracks.
Slowly turning around, he saw Felipe come around the corner. Confusion filled
his eyes, then disgust as the young man correctly deduced the reason why
Diego was wandering the halls. He tried to hustle past Diego on his way to
his own room.
Diego reached out a hand to stop him. "I can explain. . ." Diego began lamely,
wondering how he could justify to Felipe what he had been doing with Violetta
if he couldn't even justify it to himself.
But Felipe just shook him off and started to walk away. "I could ask you
what you're doing up so late," Diego said defensively.
The lad turned around, making a series of blunt gestures telling Diego Toronado
had bumped his leg after being restless in his stall earlier that day and
he had been checking to see if the swelling had gone down, which it had.
Not that Diego cared. He was too busy forni. . .
"That's enough," hissed Diego, more annoyed at himself than with Felipe.
He had not stepped foot in the cave for over a week, as he had been too caught
up in his other nocturnal activities. "You should have told me about Toronado.
I would have helped."
Felipe raised a skeptical eyebrow, questioning his sincerity. The look of
revulsion in the younger man's eyes made Diego's stomach turn. It matched
the revulsion he felt every time he looked in the mirror. But he was helpless,
caught up in a siren's snare he didn't know how to escape. And he doubted
Felipe would neither care to hear nor understand his absurd reasons for carrying
on a torrid affair under his father's roof while professing to be in love
another woman.
The lad shook his head and walked away. This time Diego let him go.
Later that afternoon, Diego entered the cave, going directly to Toronado's
stall. "Heard you were hurt, old boy," he said affectionately, rubbing the
black stallion's nose, then sliding his hand down the animal's front legs.
"Sorry I wasn't here to help."
The horse whinnied in response, which Diego hoped meant Toronado had forgiven
him. Reaching for a brush, he began to groom the Andalusian's mane.
Diego was working on a particularly hard knot when he once again heard footsteps,
announcing Felipe's arrival. When the younger man saw him, he immediately
spun around and started back up the steps.
"Felipe, wait!" Diego set down the brush and sprinted across the cave. "I
have something for you." Bending down and moving some books from the bottom
shelf of a bookcase, he lifted out the long thin package which had been delivered
a few weeks earlier.
The lad stopped, waiting with his hands defiantly resting on his hips. "I
know your birthday isn't for a another week or so, but I thought I would
give this to you now," Diego announced as he set the parcel on the laboratory
table.
Eying it with suspicion, Felipe moved over to the counter and tore open the
paper, revealing the wooden crate beneath. With his hands, he pried the lid
off, revealing the shiny new sword made of Toledo steel.
"I thought you could get used to it, the feel and weight of it, then we could
commence with lessons on your birthday," Diego suggested eagerly. Deep down,
he knew this was a blatant attempt to win his way back into his ward's good
graces. One with low odds of succeeding..
Felipe glanced down at the weapon, a light gleaming in his dark eyes as he
reached to lift it out of the box. He glanced over at Diego, then snatched
his hand back. With an expression of pure loathing, he turned on his heel
and marched out of the cave, not giving either the sword or Diego a second
glance.
Diego exhaled sadly. He should have known expensive gifts and lavish promises
would not change the young man's opinion. And why should they?
There was only one way to earn Felipe's regard once again and that was to
stop sleeping with Violetta. He hung his head. That was easier said than
done. Diego raised his head, staring at the scorned sword. But he at least
had to make the effort. Or he could never live with himself.
Z Z Z
"What a lovely day," said Señora Gomez as Don Alejandro helped her
out of the carriage.
"Indeed it is, Emilia," his father replied, smiling at her indulgently. "Shall
we?" The elder de la Vega extended his arm and the older woman placed her
hand on his jacket sleeve before commencing their way toward the plaza filled
with the booths and stalls of the weekly market.
Diego assisted Violetta to the ground a bit peevishly. He had not wanted
to accompany his father and the two widows on yet another trip to the pueblo,
followed by a picnic somewhere on the de la Vega property on the way back
home. He had come to terms with the budding romance between the old don and
Violetta's mother, which was progressing at a rather sedate pace.
He highly doubted when the older couple took a little stroll it ended the
way his and Violetta's did, with her backed up against a tree, her skirts
bunched up around her waist and his trousers undone as they went at it like
wild animals. It was hard to believe their affair had been going on for nearly
a month and no one had learned of it, except for Felipe and probably the
servants. Servants always knew everything. It would not surprise him if some
of them knew he was Zorro, and wisely kept that information to themselves.
Glancing across the plaza, he watched as Victoria stepped out onto the tavern
porch, carrying a tray of food. Diego averted his gaze, unable to look her
in the eye, but not before he noticed de Soto sitting at one of the tables.
"Ah, gracias," the alcalde said as she placed his meal before him
then filled a glass with lemonade. "Uh, Señorita." Victoria jerked
herself away from staring at Diego and that brazen hussy chatting with an
elderly woman in one of the market stalls, lifting the pitcher up before
she overfilled the commandante's cup.
Unfortunately, de Soto noticed the direction in which she was staring. "Don
Alejandro and Diego appear to be quite cosy with their house guests, don't
they?" he taunted her. "I wonder if there will a double wedding in the near
future."
"What?" Victoria glared at the commandante. "Don't be silly. They hardly
know each other."
The alcalde chuckled. "I would say they know each other well enough." He
nodded his head toward Diego and Violetta.
Victoria narrowed her eyes as she watched the interaction between the man
she thought was her best friend and the wicked widow. They acted as though
they were physically comfortable with each other, touching each other with
an ease which bespoke of a greater private intimacy. Señora Murillo
then said something to Diego and he laughed, gazing down at the other woman
with an adoring smile.
They were lovers. She set down the ewer with a thunk as a sense of betrayal
swept through her, clutching at her heart and making it painful to breathe.
She didn't understand it, telling herself she had no claim on Diego beyond
friendship. So why did the thought of him with another woman hurt so much?