Redemption of a Fallen Woman Page 0,81

into the art of love. Far from being repelled or frightened she had enjoyed every moment. It seemed a paradox that submission to a man could make her feel whole again, but it undoubtedly had. She smiled and dropped a kiss on his breast.

Harry opened his eyes and smiled. 'Is that how you mean to wake me each morning?'

'If you wish.' She returned a sultry glance. 'Or if you prefer I could do this.' She shifted position a little and kissed him on the lips.

'Better and better.'

She repeated the gesture. 'I'm glad you approve.'

'I approve very much.'

Her gaze held his. 'I'd like to have more than your approval.' She hesitated. 'I love you, Harry.'

He stared at her dumbfounded, unable to believe he had heard aright. Their compatibility delighted him on many levels; that her heart was involved as well seemed more than he deserved. As the implications began to sink in, he experienced a variety of unwonted sensations which only added to surprise and compounded mental confusion. He was far from indifferent to Elena. It had happened so gradually that he'd hardly been aware of it. Somewhere along the way his feelings for Belen had been...not supplanted exactly, but they had subtly altered. Her memory would always be with him, but the attendant grief and loss had abated and been replaced by hope. A part of him still felt guilty that it should be so and it warred with the rest that wanted to move on, to find fulfilment and to love again. Having spent years concealing his emotions and almost never giving them expression, he was at a loss now to explain what he felt.

'Elena, I...' He broke off, searching for words. 'You must know that I also care for you very deeply.'

His hesitation and embarrassment didn't go unnoticed and her heart sank. She had taken a risk in declaring herself hoping that, by being open with him, he might then tell her what he truly felt. And indeed he had. Only it was not what she had been longing to hear. Care for was not the same as love. She had earlier surmised that Harry was the kind of man who would not give his heart easily; her intuition had proved correct.

She summoned a tremulous smile. 'I'm glad.'

'You should never doubt it, sweetheart.' He kissed her cheek. 'You are very important to me.'

Her throat tightened. At least he hadn't pretended, and he had let her down gently, although, at that moment, she almost wished he had lied to her.

'It's getting late. We should get up.'

He slid an arm about her waist. 'There's no immediate hurry, is there?'

Elena turned away. 'You have an appointment to keep, remember?'

He'd temporarily forgotten about that and now felt strangely torn. He knew that she had withdrawn from him, that there were things unspoken between them, but he was uncertain how to broach so sensitive a subject. With a feeling akin to disappointment he watched as she climbed out of bed and donned her shift. He sighed. Clearly the moment had passed. They would have to talk later.

* * *

It was perhaps an hour later when he set out from the inn on the last stage of his quest. He had been given directions by the patron of La Gata Negra. However, the enquiry had elicited a look of surprise and the intelligence that the address was not in the most salubrious part of town.

'If you go there it would be as well to go armed, senor. Although trouble is unlikely during the hours of daylight one cannot be too careful.'

Harry thanked him for the advice. The patron bowed and, after ascertaining there was nothing more his distinguished guest required, he left.

'If t'neighbourhood is as he describes, it'd be as well to go accompanied an' all,' said Jack, who had been present during the conversation. 'Happen you might need someone at your back.'

'I'd be glad of the company,' replied Harry.

Thus it was that the two of them made their way from the bustling main thoroughfare into smaller side streets. Here the buildings were closer together and humble in appearance. The cobbles were littered with rubbish and, in places, slick with dirty water; the air was thick with the smells of decay and stale food. Cur dogs picked through the detritus, oblivious to the passers-by. The latter regarded the newcomers with covert and curious glances but no one made any attempt to impede their progress.

Once or twice they paused to ask directions and, at length,