Read Suzanna for Free Online Page B

“I shall know how you found me here.”
    â€œThat’s easily told,” Pérez grinned; “from the top of that brown hill in back of us. I had but stopped in the shade of those live-oaks to breathe my horse when I caught sight of you. But those clothes,—they are no fit garb for one of your surpassing beauty.”
    â€œMadre de Dios!” Suzanna exclaimed. “And now you are to tell me what I shall wear, eh?” Stepping close to Pérez, she snapped her fingers within an inch of his face. “Suppose you go back to your hill and your own business,” she cried. “I have busybodies enough watching me already.”
    â€œOh, you are adorable when you frown,” Pérez whispered. “Come, see what I have here for you,—a marvelous silk, a true mogador! I—ah—acquired it but to-day. Can you resist it, Suzanna?”
    Suzanna’s frown disappeared as she regarded the silk held so temptingly in the bandit’s hands. She dropped her head and glanced up coquettishly at Pérez. The man’s eyes held hers as a smile parted her lips.
    â€œIt’s yours, niña mia,” he said softly. “I asked the gentleman from whom I secured it for something of surpassing beauty because it was for one I held surpassingly fair. The silk is beautiful, but not more so than you.”
    Suzanna reached out her hands and ran her fingers over the gay mogador. As she did, Pérez tossed the piece of goods into her arms and caught her around the waist.
    â€œCome,” he murmured passionately, “is there no pay for poor me?”
    Suzanna sunk her nails into his flesh as he held his mouth so provokingly close to hers. “So, that’s the way you give, eh?” she screamed. “Before the gift is cold you are asking for pay!”
    â€œTruly it is a coarse word, niña mia,” Pérez said with a great show of penitence. “Let’s call it reward; and since you withhold it, poor me must collect for himself.”
    Suzanna struggled and clawed, but the robber chief crushed her in his arms and planted a kiss upon her lips.
    â€œHast no one told you that stolen fruit is sweetest?” he asked boldly.
    â€œYes; but even the sweetest fruit turns sour!” Suzanna cried menacingly. “Do you feel that gun boring into your thick skin, señor?” The fact that Pérez’ smile froze upon his lips was proof enough that he did. “It is your own pistol,” she warned. “You unhand me or we’ll see how well it shoots!”
    He continued to hold her for a second, daring her to fire, and then, with courtly air he released her. “You make me love you, little one,” he murmured, as he stepped back. “I’ll treasure those scratches you have put upon my face.”
    â€œYou make great haste with your love, don’t you?” Suzanna said bitingly. “You must have great success with it.”
    â€œNo measure but what I’d trade for a smile from you.”
    â€œThe words fly too easily to your lips,” Suzanna taunted him. “I’ve not even the name of you yet.”
    â€œAnd does the name matter?” Pérez asked seriously. “Is it not enough that you see I am no belted friar? I am a free-man—the while, at least—is not that enough for you, pretty one?”
    â€œWell you know that it is not,” Suzanna answered coldly. “And now that I see it is by design and not accident that you withhold it, I am doubly warned. When free-man bows his head to peon girl the reason is not far to seek. Take your precious silk, and begone.”
    Pérez shook his head as she held out his gift.
    â€œVery well,” Suzana exclaimed angrily. “Since you will have it no other way, take it from the ground!” And she tossed the goods at his feet.
    â€œThere are other pieces, querida , even finer than that one, which I shall bring to you,” he said evenly.