Reaching over to pick up her candle, Victoria stopped. She turned to look at the door, wondering if the light tap she heard was her imagination. Shaking her head, she drew her shawl closer to her shoulders and walked over to the barred entrance. Years of experience were behind her quick movements and the large doors opened without a sound.
Shivering, she gathered her shawl tighter. He was there, the man who had walked into her life and turned it upside down. She opened her mouth to tell him that they had no rooms--the one he had vacated earlier had already been let out due to his recent eviction activities.
His eyes stopped her. The earlier anger and confusion were gone, replaced by a pain that made Victoria gasp in shared sympathy. "What happened?"
He swayed, exhaustion reeking from his every movement. "I know that you probably don't want me here. I can't blame you--"
Her hand gently pulled him into the tavern, cutting him off before he could finish speaking. She locked the door behind them, snapping the large piece of lumber into place. Leading him to a table, she gently forced him to sit. Diego sat, unmoving, starring into space, as she poured him a glass of wine. When she tried to hand it to him, he shuddered at the sight of the blood red liquid. "Tequila, please."
Her eyebrows shot up. Even though Diego was in the army, she had a hard time seeing him as someone who drank more than an occasional glass of wine, but she poured him the glass of tequila without comment.
Drinking the entire shot in one gulp, Diego again shuddered as the liquid coursed its way down into his belly. He handed her the glass. "Another."
"No." She sat down beside him, silently asking him what was wrong.
Running his hands through his hair, Diego sighed. "I'm not in the mood to fight with you."
Reaching over, Victoria lightly clasped his chin and drew his face over so she could look into his eyes. "Good, because I'm not in the mood to fight with you, either. What's happened?"
Shaking slightly, he closed his eyes. "He's gone."
"Who?"
"Julian." She could not stop the surprise gasp that escaped her lips. "Zorro shot him. In the back." Diego was beginning to shake violently, and she realized that he was in shock. She hugged him to her warm body, and he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him. Whispering nonsensical words, she lightly feathered her fingers through his hair until he became calm.
He pulled away, embarrassment bright on his face. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.
Victoria felt like she was walking on the edge of a cliff. This man's eyes, his soul, seemed to cry out to her, and she found it impossible to resist its quiet urgings. She should hate this man for what he had done, and she disliked most soldiers, except for Mendoza. "Don't be. He was a good man. You are right to mourn him."
"He was a great man! My best friend." Diego's pain laced his soft words. Covering his eyes, he said, "I never expected Zorro to do something as stupid as killing a royal guardsman."
"Shooting a man in the back doesn't sound like Zorro, either," Victoria said, taking a sip of wine. She never enjoyed talking about the pueblo's masked bandit.
Diego looked over at her. "He's killed before."
"True." Nodding, she took another sip of wine. "But usually, he likes the challenge. I'm not sure that he's ever killed an unarmed man before, and I'm surprised that Lieutenant Hidalgo made him so angry."
Ice-blue eyes, with pain and guilt laced throughout them, met hers. They seemed to freeze her, keeping her from bringing the glass back to her lips. "Do you love him?"
Letting out a deep breath, she finished taking her drink, realizing why she never liked to talk about Zorro. "I do love a part of him. The night he rescued Don Alejandro and me from that jail cell, I thought, 'This is the one!' He seemed to be the accumulation of all my dreams, Diego." A sad smile broke through her tight lips. "And then--"
"Don Rafael's fiancée."
Victoria shook her head gently. "Everyone blames his seduction of that poor child for my refusal to have anything to do with him romantically, but I had already grown disenchanted with him before that day. He had done--and does--a lot of great things, but for the wrong reasons."
"He likes the fear, the respect, the prestige?" He had noticed the same characterization himself. It was why he was so careful to taunt the man with his lack of fear and respect, but his arrogant belief that he knew how far he could push had gotten Julian killed.
She put down her glass. "He wasn't really doing it for the people or for justice, but for himself."
Diego winced. "Lucky fellow, I guess. Until recently, I've spent my entire life doing what everyone else wanted of me. I always took care of those dependent on me." His laugh was hollow. "Oh, who am I kidding? I'm still following someone else's dream."
She squeezed his hand and looked around the tavern. "I understand. After my mother--after my mother died, I took care of this place, sending money to my father and brothers as they needed it."
"They left you alone?" He made it sound like she had experienced the worst childhood ever, even though she had a strong suspicion that his childhood had been far worse.
"I was fifteen," she said, shrugging, as if fifteen were an ancient age.
Diego gently stroked her cheek, his eyes telling her he understood the terror of being a child, left alone by adults to deal with adult problems. Victoria felt like she was drowning in his eyes. His lips met hers--or maybe she kissed him, she could not tell. His lips slowly caressed her and then his tongue softly pushed its way into her mouth. She moaned. After several minutes that felt like an eternity, Diego pulled away from her. She kept her eyes closed, managing to keep herself from whimpering.
His breath caressed her hair. "Send me away," he pleaded. "I won't be satisfied with a few kisses tonight."
A little voice in her head warned that she was heading for heartache, but she ignored it. She opened her eyes and looked at his tight features, the strain he was feeling etched in the lines around his eyes. He was not Zorro, but he was the right man--even if she could only have him for a few days. She leaned forward and kissed him again. Diego's groan told her that he was quickly forgetting any foolish thoughts about nobility.
***
Exhausted, Diego held the woman in his arms tightly to his chest. The wonderful smell of lemons and dust and fresh air filled his nostrils as he breathed in the scent of her hair. Softly stroking her back, he told himself that the hot tears streaming down his face were drops of sweat, but he knew the truth. He was crying. The strong, invincible Diego Resendo was crying, and not all the tears were for Julian.
He thought of all the men had had fought and challenged over the years. Would they be amazed or angry that this small woman had managed to do what they had never been able to do--driving Diego to his knees? He stopped himself from trembling as he felt the soft kisses she placed on his chest. Lying to himself, he angrily declared in his own mind that he was unconquered.
You knew, didn't you, Julian? You could see that I was in love with this woman. That's what you were trying to tell me, wasn't it? Diego stared out that the window, noticing the pale moon was beginning her long descent into the beginning of a new day. Tomorrow would be the first day of life without Julian. For the first time since Uncle Felipe had arrived in his small wagon, Diego felt alone.
His eyes fell to look at the woman lying in his arms. He was alone and in love. Diego allowed himself to want for the first time in many years. He wanted Sir Edmund to be here to advise him. He wanted his Uncle Felipe here to help him laugh. He wanted Julian alive, yelling at him for being such a fool. He wanted . . . he wanted this woman to love him enough to leave Los Angeles, her home, forever to be with him.
Stifling a small sigh, he drew Victoria even tighter to his body. He knew this woman well enough to know that she would never leave this place. Like him, she understood the meaning of duty and responsibility, and this place, like his family to him, was where she believed she was needed. His duty to his family demanded that he destroy Don Alejandro, and as much as Los Angeles called to him, he would never be able to stay afterwards, and Victoria would never forgive him.
He allowed himself a brief wish that the woman he called "Mother" had died before he saw her last. She would have never made her one dying wish, and he would have never come to Los Angeles. His father could have died in his own bed, and Diego could have ignored the empty ache that lived in his gut from his parents' abandonment.
His thoughts drifted to the hacienda he had taken last night. It no longer seemed important to him. He wanted to sell it, knowing the pain it would cause his father, but he could not. His mother would just have to be satisfied with the few days of upset that he had caused Don Alejandro. Diego could not take the land away from the future generation of his family, and even though he thought his brother was an fool, he had seen enough to know that Don Alejandro treated the people of this area fairly and with honor. Maybe Julian had been right in that, too. Diego could forgive a man for being frightened.
He would return to it tomorrow to collect his clothing. He took a deep breath as he thought about the blood stained floor beside the door, and the bloodstained pants, seen through the haze of unshed tears and hastily thrown into a bedroom's corner. He would return tomorrow before the funeral service for Julian and let Don Alejandro know that he could have his hacienda back.
Diego wanted to run from this pueblo, and from the woman in his arms, but he had unfinished business. Tomorrow, he planned to announce that he was going to take the Church property after all. Zorro would be unable to resist the slight, and he would appear. Then, Diego could kill him for murdering his friends.
He heard Victoria soft sigh, and it brought his attention back to her. "I'm sorry," were the only words he could think to say.
Victoria pushed away from him, looking into his eyes. "For what?"
Softly caressing her face, he thought he had never seen anything so beautiful. "You should have had silk sheets and flowers--"
"You forget, Señor," she began with a saucy grin on her face. "That I am a mere barmaid. I never dreamed of silk sheets and flowers."
Diego gazed thoughtfully into her eyes. "You should have. You deserve them. You deserve more than what I want to give."
Victoria was silent for a moment. "You are right. I do." Diego winced at her honesty. "But I chose you."
His eyes met hers, and he was thankful that she did not let her tears fall. "I don't expect you to stay. I know what you are and the kind of life you lead. You'll leave here soon, and Los Angeles--and I--will be a vague memory to you." She laid her head back down on his chest. "You gave me no promises, Diego, and I made no demands."
Julian's words, about her being the first one strong enough to take care of him, echoed in his mind. If he were the marrying type, he would have the priest posting bans as fast he was able. However, he was not that kind of man and she knew it. He would soon be leaving Los Angeles and her far behind, but for tonight they were both willing to forget that fact. He drew her in for a kiss, forgetting everything but the feel of her in his arms.