Author’s note: I’m so sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, RL has been awfully busy, plus I’m working on an ultra-secret project that will come to life shortly. So updates are going to be sparse but don’t worry this story and any of my WIPs will be finished. ;)
Special thanks to my lovely friend, Im_bloody_English for the very fast and thorough beta and for all her help. And to MarzBar for editing the chapter for me. *smooches* Thanks to DK, Debbie, kaylee, MidnightGirl, SarahandJamesFanatic, DrkDevin, Kimber, SpaceLord, Amelia-Jane, Vette and daydreamer for reviewing the last chapter, I’m so happy and flattered over your response to it, especially since I had never written anything as detailed as that. I promise I’ll answer to reviews later today or tomorrow at the latest.
Chapter 47
In the meantime at Campo Real
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Who did the damned bitch think he was? Snyder was furious as he walked through the eastern meadows, wishing any of the idiots that worked under him would cross his path. He needed to vent his rage somehow, but no, they all seemed to know what kind of mood he was in and they’d steered clear of him all day. He knew that as afraid of him as they might be, he was the entire hacienda’s laughingstock at the moment and that wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all. Someone would pay for this affront and who better than the almighty Doña Darla De Alcazar. Yes, he would teach the bitch that his threats weren’t to be taken lightly. He’d known the possibility existed of this happening beforehand, Doña Darla had told him as much. He’d believed that she would somehow stop this…insanity. There was no fucking way he was going back to being a measly foreman, not after all he’d done to become Campo Real’s Administrator.
It wasn’t about money; he had more than enough to live well for the rest of his life. However, no amount of riches could give him the power he had on his position. For twelve blissful years he’d done whatever he saw fit in Campo Real, without anyone interfering or questioning his decisions. His word was law. All the peons and their families feared him and did as he ordered, no matter what. And he wasn’t about to give that up, no way, no how.
He’d hoped that Don Angel would stay in Europe after finishing his studies or, if he returned, that things would stay as they were. But no, the good-for-nothing brat seemed to be more like his father than anyone could’ve anticipated. Well, that could be easily remedied. He’d just have to make sure the son met the same destiny his father had or worse. An evil grin tugged at his lips as he anticipated how he could deal with Don Rodrigo’s heir and how much he’d enjoy every minute of it.
Did they think it’d be that easy to get rid of him? Hmmph. He’d show them. He’d show them exactly who Thomas Snyder was.
* ~ * ~ *
At the Satan…
She was in heaven as she got lost in the passion his kisses elicited. She felt loved, cherished, whole and complete, as if she were floating in a cloud of pure bliss. She tried to move closer to him and winced, unable to stop the pitiful whimper that rasped in her throat. And sore, she was quite sore, too. She’d kill for a warm bath right now
He pulled back, concerned yet again etched in his handsome features. “Are you hurting, love?”
“Just a little.”
“How does a hot bath sound?”
“Oh William, that’ll be divine, but how—”
He interrupted her with a kiss. “Let me worry about the how, love, you just stay here looking gorgeous and I’ll be right back, I promise.”
He got up from the bed, completely uncaring that he was nude and after locating his pants, started putting them on. Buffy couldn’t stop her eyes from traveling down the expanse of his back to his buttocks, disappointed when the breeches impeded her view. But that didn’t stop her eyes from wandering from his navel up his chest to his twinkling blue eyes. Wait a moment! Her face flamed as she realized she’d been caught.
He could have called her on her ogling him, but decided otherwise, there’d be time for that later, now she was sore and he could make it better and would. He walked away to attend to his lady-love’s needs, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
* ~ * ~ *
Back in Campo Real
Riley felt despair creep upon him as he heard Angel raving about his new brother and his decision of encouraging a marriage between him and Elizabeth, so long as she accepted.
No. No, no, no. NO.
This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t allow it to happen. Wouldn’t. He had too much invested in this marriage. His life depended on it, his future. He’d been so certain he’d be the one marrying Aimée’s sister, that he’d fallen further into debt as he gambled and whored around at La Venta. Not all was lost, though. Angel had said that Elizabeth had to agree to the marriage for it to take place. He just had to make sure that she chose him and not the bastard brother. He’d woo the girl, sweep her off her feet and make her fall madly in love with him. How hard could that be anyway? There was no way a lady like her would prefer a man like William over a gentleman like him. No way at all.
* ~ * ~ *
In Spike’s cabin
Buffy stared at the ring in her finger, hypnotized by how the diamond gleamed under the sun’s rays that entered through the bull’s eye window. Perhaps she shouldn’t have allowed this to happen, but she didn’t regret it. She was well aware that they would face many obstacles, the first of which would probably be Aimée. She wouldn’t escape another confrontation and walk away with any grand delusions that William still wanted her. Oh no.
He was hers, just as she was his and that was that. It was time the bitch understood it loud and clear.
She could hardly wait until they returned to Campo Real so she could rub her engagement—or even better the fact that she was truly William’s woman—and her beautiful ring into Aimée’s face. She’d probably have a stroke once she noticed how much bigger and better it was than the one Angel had given her.
She was brought out of her musings when William came back to fetch her for her bath. And with soothing words of love and the utmost care, lifted her naked form up and carried her to the adjoining chamber, saying he was going to take such good care of her for the rest of her life.
She wasn’t sure what to expect after being offered a bath, but it certainly wasn’t what greeted her in the other room, for how could she have ever imagined there could be such a luxurious claw-foot tub filled to two-thirds of its capacity or the heavenly scent that wafted throughout the air, tickling her nostrils?
“William, how…err, when—?” She turned her head to look at him, her green eyes full of surprise.
“Well as much as I would love to say it was all my idea, it was Xander who remembered we had this around and decided to put it to good use. It seems I’m not the only one you’ve bewitched with your beauty, love,” he teased, delighting in the blush that crept upon her face while he lowered her to the tub.
“Mmmmm,” she moaned in bliss as her body made contact with the water. It was perfect, not too hot or too cold, just perfect. And that aroma, she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was made of, but it was delicious and so soothing. “What’s that heavenly smell? I can’t seem to recognize it.”
“That might be because it’s a blend of different oils, lavender, sandalwood, jasmine, rose, cedar wood and lemongrass. I bought it, along with many others, in one of my trips to India. Each blend has a different use. This one, for example, is supposed to bring calm and peace to the spirit. There are some that are especially designed to relax and soothe body and mind and others to entice the senses. Not that I need anything of the sort when I have you around, sweetheart, but maybe someday you’d feel inclined to try some of those with me, yes?”
“Hmmm, perhaps, we’ll see how you behave first,” she said playfully, tipping her head back and closing her eyelids as the combination of warm water and the scented oil worked their magic on her sore muscles.
* ~ * ~ *
In an obscure jail cell just outside of Galveston
Fragments of conversations, images of persons and memories had been coming to him in his dreams over the years. At first—or rather most of the time—he hadn’t been sure what to make of them. He’d imagined that they were just that: dreams, and nothing more. Dreams of having a life outside these four miserable, damp and dirty walls, of having a family that cared for him, friends, acquaintances, anyone that actually gave a damn about him. Only dreams, or so he thought.
For so long he hadn’t been able to remember anything of his past life. Not where he lived, his name, nothing at all. Every memory had been locked away—much as his body was in this prison cell—in the far recesses of his brain, completely out of reach for him. But today, rather unexpectedly, after sustaining a particularly vicious blow to the head at the hands of one of the guards, he finally remembered who he was. It felt like he was waking up from those dreams to a nightmare that had lasted years and he knew while he remained locked inside this jail that nightmare would continue. He still wasn’t quite certain how it was that he lost his memories in the first place or ended up in this cell that had been his home for so long. Home. Campo Real. Angel. William. He had to get out of this hellish place, but how?
He was well aware that claiming he was Rodrigo De Alcazar and demanding to be released and brought back to his home was out of the question, no matter how much influence his name had carried before. The men that ran the prison were ruthless and considering all he’d endured at their hands through twelve long years… No, that was completely out of the question, but there had to be some way. If only he could contact Rupert, not through the guards though, he wouldn’t find any kind of help from that lot, he was sure. Perhaps… Yes, yes, that could actually work.
tbc
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