Read The Christmas Treasure for Free Online Page A

lingered inside him.  
    Blowing water from his mouth, and pushing both hands through his hair, he glanced back at the house, his eyes drawn toward his bedroom window, which was dark. He cursed again, then whirled and stalked away.  
    He walked for an hour, across the hills, through the scrubby brush behind his house, then finally, as the sun rose, he found himself at the family graves.  
    In the pink and orange glow of the awakening sun, he stood, looking at four gravestones. Stepping past the graves of his parents, Gabe drew the sign of the cross, then kissed his fingers in obeisance. He trailed his fingers across the small gravestone that marked the final resting place of his son, whom he had never seen, then stopped at the last grave. He brushed a leaf off the headstone, and sat back on his haunches and read the words the stonemason had carved. Each one of them felt carved upon his heart.  
     Elena Maria de Calvos y Beltran. Beloved wife of Gabriel.  1820 - 1842. Her soul flies with the angels.  
    "Elena, mi paloma , I think I have made a big mistake. I wanted a son. Another son. I have felt so empty these past years, and there's no one to continue the Beltran name. I am the last, as you know." Gabe had often visited his wife's grave when he felt the loneliness eating a hole in his soul, or when he was uncertain of a decision. But this time was different.  
    "I feel I have betrayed you in my heart. But how was I to know? I never thought I would desire another woman."  He laughed without humor. "I even wondered if I would be able to perform. But Elena, you know my plan. I paid for a woman with experience, a woman who had borne a child, who would catch quickly. I knew I would never care for this woman, but I planned to give her a good life. And I would have a son to bear the Beltran name. Not my --" Gabe stopped. His throat closed over his next words. He swallowed hard and continued in a broken voice. "Not my firstborn son. Not our child, mi paloma , but a son."  
    Gabe wiped his hand over his face and stood, looking up at the glow of dawn in the east. "This--this innocent looking woman has cheated me. Her letters said she was a widow whose son had died in an accident. She lied." Gabe's fists clenched and the last words were ground out between clenched teeth.  
    "She lied to me, Elena. The woman in my bed is a virgin bride." He paced back and forth beside his wife's grave.  "And God help me, she is young, and innocent, and desirable. I don't know what to do. My brain tells me to send her away now, before another day passes. My body tells me to take what I have bought and use her as I intended.  But my heart…my heart, Elena, is torn and bleeding."  
    Gabe rubbed his stinging eyes, then leaned over and placed a kiss on the cold granite that marked his wife's grave.  "Fly with the angels, Elena. And please, please, watch over me."  
    h
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
    Lorilla woke with a delicious sense of renewal. She had been so tired. Her body had ached for five months, day and night. But now she was surrounded with clean soft sheets and downy pillows. She felt wonderful. She took a long, yawning breath and drew in the scent of soap and wood and fresh air.  
    Immediately, the scent reminded her of Gabriel. She opened her eyes, and cautiously turned her head, but the bed beside her was empty. A touch of her fingertips told her the bedclothes were cold.  
    He had not come back after he withdrew so abruptly and stormed out of the room, apparently in a mad rage.  Lorilla's cheeks burned when she remembered what they had been doing immediately prior to his sudden exit.  
    Her breasts tightened, and a thrill rippled through her. He had kissed her and caressed her. He'd done things to her that were incomprehensible, yet strangely enjoyable. Then, when she thought she couldn't stand it if he didn't fulfill the burning need inside her, he had done that last, most intimate thing. But far from quenching her