The Eagle and the Sun Read online

  She stared at the door, her nerves tightening as the sounds drew nearer. Please let him go by. She repeated the words silently, over and over, willing him to go on past and into his own room.

  The crash of his shoe against her door gave her a violent start.

  'Cass,' he demanded against the wood, 'wanna talk to you.' He tried the handle, quietly at first, then rattling it angrily as he realised the door was locked. 'C'mon, open it will you?' His voice was growing louder, more impatient. 'Wassa matter with you? We're engaged, dammit.'

  Cass's teeth were clenched so hard her jaw ached. What should she do? If she didn't open the door he would disturb the entire household. But if she did—

  'C'mon, Cassie,' he wheedled, 'let me in. You don't have to be shy with me. I've got something for you,' he began in a sing-song voice but was abruptly cut short by a hiccup.

  Kicking off the covers, Cass padded across to the door but did not touch it. 'Please, Derek,' she begged, 'go back to your room. I'll see you in the morning.'

  'Aaah, so you are awake.' His voice was loud and slurred, sounding both pleased and irritated. 'C'mon now, stop teasing and open this door.'

  'Go away!' she whispered fiercely. 'Not until you kiss me goodnight.'

  Cass wiped damp palms down the sides of her nightdress.

  'I'm entitled to that, for God's sake.' He was shouting now, his tone ugly. 'I've kept my part of the bargain, now you damn well keep yours. I'm not going to be messed around like this. I'm fed up with the hands-off treatment. There's a word for girls like you. Now open this bloody door or I'll kick it down!'

  Rubbing the tops of her icy arms, Cass bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Feet pounded up the stairs two at a time and overwhelming relief left her legs trembling as she heard Miguel's voice. He sounded perfectly calm and not even out of breath.

  'I think you have mistaken your room, Mr Prentice. Your door is on the other side of the passage.'

  The silence seemed interminable. Then Teresa's clear voice, full of mingled curiosity and annoyance, demanded to know why Miguel had suddenly raced away without a word, and what was going on. No one answered her. Cass didn't even breathe. She could almost hear Derek's fuddled brain debating whether to tell Miguel to mind his own business thereby risking irreparable damage to his hopes of a contract, or to hang on to his temper and take the way out that had been offered.

  Eventually he muttered, 'Oh yeah? How'd I manage that then?' and Cass let her breath out in a long, shuddering sigh. 'S easy to get lost in a place this size,' Derek said truculently.

  'I'm sure it won't happen a second time.' Miguel's voice was an unsheathed blade. 'But should you

  need anything, my room is just across the passage from yours and I'm a very light sleeper.' The warning was crystal clear.

  Derek grunted and a few moments later Cass heard a door slam. She leaned against the wall, weak and shaken as reaction set in. A light tap on her door made her jump. 'Everything all right? ‘Miguel’s query was more polite than concerned.

  'Y-yes,' she stammered. 'Thank you.'

  'De nada,' came the dry reply. 'Sleep well.'

  As Cass pushed herself away from the wall her mouth softened in a shaky smile. 'De nada,' she repeated to herself, mimicking him. 'It's nothing.'

  She heard Teresa murmur something in a coaxing tone. Miguel replied briefly. A staccato click of heels and a slammed door told their own story. Then the door next to hers closed.

  Cass climbed wearily back into bed. Excitement was all very well, but today had contained enough to last her a lifetime.

  A few moments later she heard a shower running. She sat up with a jerk, staring wide-eyed towards her open bathroom door, then realised that Miguel's en suite bathroom must adjoin her own.

  Lying back she stared at the ceiling and listened to him humming to himself as he showered. It was an extraordinarily intimate sound.

  Cass's lashes fluttered down. Miguel had warned Derek off and he was not sharing his bed with Teresa that night.

  She slept.

  CHAPTER SIX

  It was still dark when Cass stepped out into the passage the following morning. Dressed in warm stretch pants and a thick sweater over a fine wool shirt, she had brushed her hair back into a loose ponytail to keep it out of the way.

  Holding her boots in one hand, she closed her door with great care then leapt a foot into the air as a hand descended on her shoulder.

  'Ssshh,' Miguel warned softly, placing his fingers gently over her lips.

  Her heart hammered in her throat, its speed only partly due to the shock he had given her. The warm, light touch on her mouth heightened all her senses and set her nerves quivering.

  'You frightened me,' she whispered shakily, hoping he would accept that explanation for the trembling that shook her.

  'Not possible,' he breathed close to her ear, adding drily, 'your imagination does a better job than I ever could.'

  Giving her no time to respond, he clasped her hand and tugged her towards the stairs. He too was carrying his boots and was wearing the cream breeches and yellow sweater she had seen him in the previous day. Suddenly Cass was overcome by a fit of giggles.

  'Quiet!' Miguel warned and pulled her faster down the sweeping staircase. As he reached the bottom he spun around and they collided. She was on the last step and their heads were level.

  'What's the matter?' he demanded in a whisper.

  Cass shook her head, biting her lips to contain the laughter born of nervous tension and excitement. 'It's ridiculous,' she spluttered. 'This is your house, yet we're sneaking about like a couple of criminals.'

  He shrugged, his teeth flashing briefly in the dimness. 'This is a very special part of my day. I value it highly and have no wish to share it with people incapable of appreciating what it means to me.'

  As she followed him out into the chill grey dawn, his words echoing and re-echoing in her mind, a warm glow spread through Cass. She tried to control it and play it down. But, like steam from a boiling kettle, it would not be contained and surged like heady wine along her veins. He was sharing it with her.

  She opened and closed doors for Miguel as he fetched the tack and saddled the horses. Then they mounted up. Miguel led on the chestnut stallion and she followed on a beautiful thoroughbred mare. They wound their way down the path under the oaks, across the dew-soaked grass, and up a winding track into the hills.

  The only sounds were the creak of leather and the crunching of the horses' hooves on the stony path. Even the birds had not yet woken.

  The stallion's stride quickened and he broke into

  an easy canter. The mare followed suit and, all of a sudden, Cass was filled with a wonderful sense of well-being.

  The mare's superb condition and collected power were evident in her effortless speed. Her mouth was velvet-soft and she responded instantly to the lightest touch on the rein. The cold air felt like champagne on Cass's skin.

  Miguel glanced over his shoulder. 'All right?' 'Fantastic!' she called back, her smile totally

  uninhibited as she revelled in a joyous new sensation of freedom.

  For an instant he appeared startled, then his own face creased in a grin that made his dark eyes gleam and deepened the lines bracketing his chiselled mouth.

  Leaning forward in the saddle, Miguel gave the stallion its head and the magnificent animal leapt forward, its hooves flying over the dirt.

  'Come on, girl,' Cass murmured to the mare, 'they're not going to get away with that.' The mare's ears pricked up and, without further urging, she lengthened her stride, increasing her pace.

  The sky was growing lighter by the minute. The all-pervading grey had given way to pearl, pale green and, just above the eastern horizon, primrose.

  Pounding along the track they rounded a bend, crossed a high valley and started up a trail that curved around the side of a steep hill.

  Glancing skyward once more, Cass saw wraiths of cloud change from oyster to pale pink.

  As th
ey reached the far side of the hill, Miguel pulled the stallion to a slithering halt. The mare

  slowed of her own accord.

  Miguel jumped down and held both arms up towards Cass. 'Quick, never mind the reins, let them fall. The horses are trained to stand if the reins are on the ground.'

  Throwing her leg over the saddle, Cass slid down into his waiting arms. Her heart contracted and his expression tightened as he held her against him for a brief moment. Releasing her, he seized her hand and pulled her, at a run, several yards further along the trail. Then he stopped and, standing behind her with both hands on her shoulders, turned her sideways.

  They were facing a gap between two hills, beyond and below which the highlands stretched into the distance.

  'I had no idea we were so high,' Cass panted, still trying to catch her breath.

  Miguel squeezed her shoulders gently. 'Ssshh,' he murmured. 'Watch.'

  She could feel his chest against her back and his warm breath on her neck and cheek. Her blood fizzed with exhilaration. Folding her arms, trying to control her leaping awareness of him, so close, so very close, she gazed towards the eastern horizon where the whole sky blushed deep rose.

  As they watched, the colour changed to coral, then tangerine, then molten gold as the rim of the sun climbed with slow majesty above the farthest hill. The dazzling rays fell upon the mist in the valleys, dissolving it, burning it away.

  As the whole shimmering disc rose into the sky, Cass felt a lump in her throat, yet wasn't sure why. The pastel shades of dawn had been banished by

  this harsh new brilliance. It brought with it a flash of insight that made her catch her breath.

  'Tell me,' Miguel said quietly, turning her towards him, reminding her once more of the acute perception that existed between them. His dark eyes held hers, demanding the truth, so she gave it.

  'I was just imagining what it must have been like for the Aztec high priest, waiting each morning to greet the sun. Never being absolutely sure that it would rise, perhaps appalled by the slaughter of children and ritual blood sacrifice, but too terrified of the consequences not to perform them.' She broke off, suddenly embarrassed, and glanced down, her thick lashes veiling her eyes. 'I'm not usually given to melodrama.'

  He said nothing. His grip on her shoulders tightened slightly.

  Suddenly she wanted him to understand what she had glimpsed. 'I mean—we take so much for granted now, how long a sun will last, what happens when a star goes nova. Our knowledge of astronomy and physics is so vast and complex it's hard to imagine how terrifying it must have been for people who went to sleep each night not sure there would even be a tomorrow.'

  He cupped her head between his hands. There was a light of triumph in his eyes. 'Now do you know why I asked you to come with me this morning?' he demanded.

  'You didn't ask me,' Cass demurred, 'it was a cross between a challenge and a command.'

  'But you came,' he pointed out. 'Yes.'

  'Are you glad?'

  'Oh, yes.' Her reply was instant and heartfelt. 'Why?'

  'Because it was beautiful and because I think I understand the significance sunrise has for you. Where a Catholic might go to early mass, you come here.' Cass spoke without reserve. Later, when they returned to the hacienda, to the pressures and people, and this exquisite clarity was blurred, she might regret opening her heart. But now, at this moment, nothing else mattered.

  'You think I am a pagan?' There was a note of amusement in his deep voice as with gentle fingers he brushed tendrils from her forehead and temple.

  'You are many things,' she said thoughtfully. All the problems that so beset her yesterday were for the moment forgotten. The barren hillside, the sunrise and Miguel were all that existed. She smiled at him. 'I think there is a part of you which belongs to the old ways.'

  He ran his fingers down her cheek and throat, his eyes narrowing, becoming smoky.

  Cass swallowed. His touch, so light yet so intimate, ignited a slow-burning fire deep within her that spread its warmth along every nerve. 'Wh-who was she, Miguel?' Cass's throat was dry and her voice sounded husky. 'The Aztec woman?'

  'What difference does it make?' His tone was preoccupied, as though his thoughts were on something other than his ancestry.

  'None at all. I'm just curious,' Cass smiled. 'I've never known anyone with so direct a link with the past. You have to admit it was a very… vivid

  period.'

  His shoulders moved in an almost imperceptible shrug. 'She was the daughter of the emperor and one of his slave women. There was no stigma attached to such births then. She was acknowledged to be of Royal blood, taught to read, write and speak several languages. And yet,' he paused, one dark brow lifting cynically, 'my mother's family, who were of pure Spanish descent, did not want her to marry my father because of his "tainted" blood.'

  Cass gazed up at the proud face above her. The imperious, sculpted features revealed nothing but she sensed a deep anger. 'Your mother obviously had the courage to make her own decision,' she said softly, knowing expressions of outrage or condemnation on her part were not sought, nor would they be welcome. He was stating a fact, not seeking sympathy.

  'It cost her dear.'

  'Did she ever regret it?'

  His voice softened. 'No. She is with him now at the Heart Institute. In fact, it will be interesting to see if the doctors manage to keep her out of the operating theatre.'

  'Then whatever the cost, for her it was clearly worth while.'

  As he gazed down into her eyes, his brief smile faded, and a brooding intensity darkened his expression. 'And you, Cassandra,' he murmured, 'who are you?'

  She shivered suddenly. It was as though all the warmth had gone from the morning, yet the sun still blazed from a clear, sapphire sky. 'I—I'm not sure

  any more.'

  'You will find out while you are here.' He nodded slowly and there was a strange certainty in his words.

  She tried to smile. Already so much had changed. 'Is that a threat?'

  He drew her towards him and buried one hand in her hair as the other slid down her back and tightened around her waist, effectively imprisoning her. 'A promise,' he whispered and his head came down towards hers.

  Cass's hands flew upward in a reflex action to fend him off. 'No,' she croaked, her throat parched, her heart pounding with mingled fear and longing.

  'Now you are not honest, querida,' he chided, 'with me or with yourself.' Still he held her, neither tightening his hold nor loosening it. His cheek was warm and stubbly against her temple and his hard muscled body drew her like a magnet, promising a bewitching mixture of comfort, new strength and intoxicating excitement. Her confusion was unbearable.

  'Honesty is all very well.' Her voice wavered as, like a tidal wave, all the problems and pressures she had left behind reared up, ready to engulf her once more.

  'We must pay our dues.' He brushed aside her hesitancy. 'The sun has risen, we have another day.' His smile made her heart turn over. 'I do not demand your heart's blood, merely a kiss.'

  Cass's gaze dropped to his mouth, only inches from hers. But her protest died unuttered, for how could she tell him her fear that the one kiss so

  lightly, teasingly demanded, could all too easily cost her her heart.

  Interpreting her silence as acquiescence, a faint smile lifted the corners of his mouth, then his lips brushed hers, as delicately as a moth's wing, once, twice, a third time.

  Cass's eyes closed and her fingers curled, gripping his sweater, she could feel the drumbeat of his heart and his body's heat through the thick wool. Sensing the change, Miguel's mouth captured hers. She stopped fighting both herself and him and relaxed, letting herself float free on the swirling tide rising inside her. His lips moved with subtle, tantalising expertise, coaxing a response that Cass

  could not help but give.

  As the kiss lengthened, deepened, she vaguely heard his breathing quicken. Her own heart was threatening to burst from her body. She felt lig
ht- headed, and a strange, sweet weakness pervaded her.

  When at last Miguel lifted his head it was a bereavement, and an involuntary moan escaped her swollen lips.

  He held her hard against his taut length and her head fell forward against his shoulder. He was breathing hard and fast and she sensed a battle raging within him.

  As reality returned, intrusive and unwelcome, Cass felt unaccountably shy. It was all so bewildering. In conventional terms she barely knew this man. She had met him, and instantly disliked him, only two days before. Yet there was an inexplicable bond between them, a perception and

  insight neither could truthfully deny. But what did it mean? What would be its effect on their lives?

  'Cassandra?' he spoke softly against her hair and she felt the sound vibrate in his throat and chest.

  She raised her head. His expression as he looked down at her held both tenderness and resolve.

  'It is time to go back.'

  'Of course.' She drew away, trying at once to pretend that nothing of any significance had occurred, that this was an isolated incident, out of character for them both. 'Thank you for inviting me.' His mouth twisted ironically. 'De nada.' He was mocking her, aware of what she was trying to do and refusing to help or even permit it. 'You will

  come again.' It was a flat statement.

  'I don't think so.' As she spoke Cass turned away so he would not see what those words cost her. Sanity had returned and she was deeply disturbed by what had happened. It was not simply the kiss; she had been a willing partner. Rather it was the empathy, the intuitive recognition of like calling to like and the shutting out of the rest of the world that had her struggling fiercely with her conscience.

  He was engaged to someone else. One did not need to play with fire to know that it burned, and she had been tempted too close to a dangerous flame.