Page 26 of The Rogue’s Embrace

They made love once more during the night, and then again just before the dawn. Lisandro had planned to let Maria be after their first time together, to give her body a chance to recover, but she wouldn't allow it.

The last time he had taken her, she'd been spread before him over the edge of the bed while he'd entered her from behind. He had tried to be gentle, but with Maria begging him to take her hard and fast, a man could only say no once before giving in to his base desires. He loved the sound of Maria's cry as he thrust deep into her and she climaxed.

It was mid-morning before they finally stirred from the bed.

"I shall ring the bell for some fresh, warm water. We need to dress and eat before we set out on the road this morning."

Lisandro threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He playfully batted away the greedy hands of his fiancée. If Maria got a hold of him again, there was every chance she would demand another round of sex.

This minx might well be the death of me.

Maria propped herself up on her elbows as Lisandro tied his dressing gown at the waist. He risked a peek at her breasts, pleased that she was comfortable being naked in his presence.

He swallowed, fighting temptation. It would be so easy to roll her over and spread her legs once more.

And she would let me do it.

"Can I ask about your scars?" she said.

Her words pulled him from his lustful thoughts. He hadn't counted on the scars being a topic for conversation. He was so used to them, he barely noticed them anymore.

"I got most of them during the war, a couple in the past few years. Not every mission goes according to plan. In fact, few ever do. When you are dealing with dangerous people, especially the kind that carry knives and pistols, injuries tend to happen,"

he replied.

Maria climbed off the bed and came to his side. He leaned over and gave her an easy, loving kiss. It made his heart flip when she was near, and to know that she was this relaxed with him. With them as a couple.

When her hand settled gently on his chest, Lisandro spotted the betrothal ring.

"I think the ring suits you perfectly," he said.

She raised an eyebrow at his obvious attempt at changing the subject. As far as he was concerned, Maria had already been exposed to enough violence and danger. She didn't need to know all the insane things that had happened to him.

A feminine finger traced a line along the scar which ran from his left shoulder to the middle of his back—the result of a fight with a piece of loose metal on the side of a building, rather than a knife.

"The ring is gorgeous, and I will wear with pride. But I want to know more about you, about your life," she said.

"Alright. Choose a scar and I shall try to remember how I came by it."

She touched a hand to the ugly scar on the top of Lisandro's arm and he gritted his teeth. "Tell me about this one."

"I call that my scar of instruction. It was a painful lesson in why one should never listen to a mad Englishman when he offers up dangerous and reckless schemes. We tried to blow up the powder magazine at Fort de Guesclin in Brittany. I got a hot bullet for my troubles,"

he replied.

Memories of that night still haunted him. Anyone who said that a flesh wound wasn't agony had never truly suffered one. Even thinking about it made him wince.

When Maria touched another of Lisandro's scars, he took a gentle, but firm hold of her hand.

"You must understand that there are some things I can never share with you. Scars which will have to remain a mystery. It's not a trust issue, mind you, Maria; it's because if you knew the secrets behind them it could put your life in danger. We have to think of the future and our children."

She nodded. "I understand. There are things I know my father and brother keep from both my mother and me. They don't do it with any sort of malice, but again to stop us from holding information that could bring us harm."

He was about to walk into the home of a man he barely knew, and whom he most certainly didn't trust. The Duke of Villabona had his own secrets; and for the first time, Lisandro wondered what exactly they were.

"When we were on the yacht, we talked a little about the political situation here and of your father. What we didn't discuss in much detail was my own story. I need you to understand that while I helped bring King Ferdinand back to Spain and for him to retake the throne, I am now finding it difficult to support his reign. What he is doing to those who seek to speak freely goes against my values as a loyal Spanish patriot,"

he said. There would never be a time when Maria wasn't her father's daughter, but she had committed herself to him. She had to reconcile any differences that may exist between the two men in her life.

"And you know that my father has fallen from grace. The fact that the Elizondo family did not warrant an invitation to the royal wedding in Madrid should be enough for you to know that the king has turned his back on us,"

she replied.

"Ferdinand is a man capable of holding a grudge, but he may smile upon your father once more. Who knows?"

Maria met his gaze. "I think things may be irreparably broken between them. Papá spoke out against some of the arrests which happened recently. When he tried to raise the issue of restoring some of the powers of the constitution, King Ferdinand threw both his shoes at my father and told him never to come back to the royal palace."

Lisandro had heard rumors of the shoe-throwing incident but had put it down to an exaggerated tale. Now, he was worried. Throwing shoes was a grave sign of insult.

A chill ran down his spine. Had the plan ever been to accept the ransom money and release her?

Nausea threatened. What if he had not gone to the tavern that night? If he had missed the Englishman and then not found the note? So many things could have gone wrong and Maria may never have been found.

"Lisandro?"

He clenched his hands into tight fists. The notion that he might had missed knowing her or winning her love threatened to overwhelm him with despair. This woman had always been his destiny.

"I love you. No matter what happens today, you must know that you will hold my heart always."

Lisandro pulled Maria to him and held her tight.

She put her arms around him and nestled her head against his chest. "I love you too. And because of our love, I know we shall succeed."

They held one another for a time, neither speaking. Lisandro went through the plan in his head, refusing to consider the hundred or so ways it could go wrong. Of what today might cost them.

We will not fail. Today, the good and righteous will win.