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“People do not worry about me, Marguarita.”

Someone should.

There was a hint of a smile in her voice and it warmed him. He turned her response over and over in his mind. “If I put you in your bed will you stay there?”

This time there was no mistaking the laughter. Probably not, but I’ll try.

He laid her on top of the bed and stared down at her for a long time. Her black hair spilled across her pillow, like a fall of silk skeins. Her lashes looked thicker and darker than ever. Color added so much to a world, even the dull colors he was seeing. He wanted to lean down and taste those perfect lips, but he knew it wouldn’t end there. The call of her blood beat in his veins and he was done scaring her for the day. Not when she was so obviously worried about him.

“Sleep well, Marguarita.”

I almost miss those strange names you call me.

He touched her hair once, feeling a shift in his heart, one he feared would change his life. He moved back away from her without another word, unable to decide what he was going to do about her. He could not remember a time when he hadn’t known exactly what he was going to do. Abruptly he left her room, left her fragrant scent and the terrible need clawing at his veins. He was still in control, but for how much longer was anyone’s guess.

9

Marguarita rolled over and stared at her window. The heavy drapes were drawn, but a sliver of light told her it was the middle of the day. A rain of pebbles hit the glass and she sighed and pushed herself up. Her body felt leaden, not wanting to cooperate, but resolutely she slipped out of bed and crawled across the floor to the window pushing the drapes aside just as Julio sent another light spray of small rocks rapping against the glass.

Trying not to laugh, Marguarita shoved the window up. Sunlight spilled into her room, burning her eyes. She hastily covered them, shocked at how she was already so used to being up all night. She dragged a pen and notepad from the bedside table.

Are you crazy? He might kill you if he finds you here again.

“He’s sleeping. I made certain to wake you well before sundown. I had to make certain you were all right.”

She shaded her eyes and looked him over carefully. There was a thick bloody wrap around his forearm and he looked upset.

What happened to you?

“The dog went crazy about an hour ago. My dog. He suddenly started snarling and growling. He hadn’t made a sound since . . .”

She sketched a question mark between them.

“De La Cruz came to our house last night. Max went berserk. All the animals do when he’s around, you know that. He was barking and snarling at the window and then abruptly he went silent. Not a peep until a little while ago and then it was like he went crazy. He started snapping at my horse’s heels and one kicked at him. I dismounted to calm him down and he attacked me.”

Marguarita climbed onto the windowsill, sitting with her legs dangling, and indicated Julio come closer so she could inspect the lacerations.

Julio took off his shirt to show Marguarita the scratches across his chest. The dog had gone for his throat and he had held him off with sheer strength. Her heart sank. Julio had thrust his forearm into the dog’s mouth, sacrificing his arm to prevent the attack on his throat.

You had to shoot him? She knew the answer before he spoke. Julio had loved his dog.

“Ricco shot him. He didn’t have a choice, Marguarita. I think De La Cruz did something to my dog.”

She shook her head rejecting the idea, frantically writing on the notepad.

He wouldn’t do that, Julio. Everything on the ranch is under his protection, including the animals.

“The animals are terrified of him and you know it. The longer he stays here, the worse it’s going to get. Even the horses are upset, Marguarita. They’re hard to control when we’re out patrolling. I think he’s staying here because of you. He’s got to go.”

She glared at him.

This is his home, Julio. That’s a mean thing to say.

Julio shook his head, crumpling her note. “This is our home. They’re never here, especially him. He’s the worst of them. He can’t just come here and tell us all that you belong to him. We work for him, but you aren’t his slave. He’s got to go, and you have to get out of there. Now. Before he does something to make it impossible for you to get away from him.”

He needs me, Julio.

Julio scowled at her. “He’s not one of your broken animals to rescue, Marguarita. He’s dangerous to you. You can’t treat him like a wild animal.”

That’s exactly what he is. He’s alone, and he needs me. I’m not going to abandon him the way everyone else in his life has done. He pushes everyone away and they go. I’m staying.

“What if he wants more from you than you’re willing to give?” Julio demanded. “Because he thinks you’re his woman. Do you have any idea the demands he could make on you? You’re playing with fire, Marguarita. If he’s a wild animal, then he’s the most dangerous one you’ve ever encountered and you aren’t going to tame him. Get out while you can. I’ll help you. We all will. He doesn’t own you. He doesn’t own any of us. We have choices here, and you do as well.”

My choice is to see him through this. You have no idea of his life, Julio. He came here to end his life with honor and I ruined that for him. He’s lost right now and I need to help him. I want to help him. I know that I can.

Julio cursed under his breath. “You’ve always been like this, Marguarita, so stubborn no one could make you see reason.” He started to put his shirt back on, but stopped when she shook her head.

Marguarita slipped back into her room and rummaged around until she found the first-aid kit she’d made up years earlier for the workers. Over time she’d become somewhat of a nurse with all the lacerations and accidents that occurred on the ranch. She smeared antibiotic cream over the deep scratches and handed him some tablets.

Julio obediently took them and dragged his shirt back over his head, smoothing it over his chest. “I’m telling you, hon, De La Cruz is no ordinary man. You have to let this one go.”

She unwound the bloody rag and gasped when she saw the wound on his arm. She mimicked sewing, frowning at him. Julio shrugged and shook his head.

“It’ll heal. Just do whatever you do so it doesn’t get infected.”

Marguarita had to blink several times. The sun seemed unusually bright and her eyes kept watering. She shook her head and indicated she needed to at least put butterfly strips across the wound to try to close it.

“Get on with it, then. I’ve got to get back to work. You have to get to the stables tonight and settle the animals down. Someone’s really going to get hurt if you don’t, Marguarita.”

She nodded as she carefully applied the antibiotic cream and then began to meticulously close the wound.

“He can’t keep you,” Julio reiterated. “You don’t owe him your life, honey. Seriously, think about leaving this place.”

He would find me. I want to stay anyway, Julio. I know I can help him.

She had almost written save him. Zacarias needed saving from himself. Perhaps it couldn’t be done. She wasn’t even certain he wanted saving, but someone had to care about the man. He didn’t seem to care much about himself. He was arrogant and had complete confidence in himself, but he also believed he was tainted with evil.

I’m sorry about your dog, Julio, but whatever happened, Zacarias had nothing to do with it. You be careful today. I’ll come out this evening.