Carpathian 22 - Dark Predator

they turned back toward the hacienda.
    Light was just beginning to streak across the night sky, fading the stars and moon. Zacarias quickened his pace. Safeguards would be necessary throughout the ranch now.
    “Esteban and his sister, Lea, moved here a few months ago,” Cesaro said, glancing at his son for confirmation. Julio nodded with a small frown. “Very wealthy and very arrogant. This is not the kind of man who settles here. He has no real interest in ranching or raising horses. I ask myself, why would this type of man come here to this remote part of the country when he is so obviously a city man?”
    “That is a good question,” Zacarias affirmed. “Have you an answer?”
    Julio sighed and shook his head. “We’ve talked it over several times. Either they’re hiding here, on the run from something or . . .” He trailed off and looked at his father.
    “Or they’re hoping to get to a De La Cruz,” Cesaro admitted. “It is no secret who owns this land. It is far larger than any other holding here in our country, and although on record it looks as if each of your brothers has bought land to put together, one family having so much acreage is unusual. Your family has a certain reputation and many men would wish it to be known that you are friends. And the man, Esteban, often brings up the De La Cruz name, asking questions we do not answer.”
    “It is possible they have knowledge they shouldn’t,” Julio added reluctantly.
    “Did you express your concerns to Marguarita?” Zacarias asked.
    “Marguarita is completely loyal to the De La Cruz family,” Julio snapped. “She would never betray you, certainly not to an outsider.”
    “That is not what I asked,” Zacarias said.
    Julio hung his head when his father sent him a dark scowl.
    “No. Marguarita regarded Esteban and his sister as friends, no more than that,” Cesaro said. “She knew he was courting her, but then so were a lot of men. She showed no real interest so we thought it best to just tell her that he was an outsider and didn’t belong here. That is as far as it went.”
    Zacarias nodded. “Do you really need her for the animals—the horses?”
    Cesaro nodded. “Especially now. They are . . . disturbed.”
    Zacarias broke away from the two men, heading back to the main ranch house. “Tomorrow evening then, she will help you.”
    He didn’t wait for their response. It mattered little to him what they had to say. Marguarita was his woman, and for as long as he chose to remain on earth, no one else would direct her but him. He safeguarded the house, paying special attention to the foundation and the ground beneath the house before he added protection to the doors and windows. Only when he was completely certain Ruslan’s spies couldn’t penetrate his guards did he allow his mind to seek Marguarita’s.
    She hadn’t moved from the floor in the kitchen. He found her sitting with her knees drawn up and her chin resting on top of them. She looked small and forlorn. His heart stuttered when her eyes met his. There was no condemnation in her expression or her mind. She simply looked at him with her dark chocolate eyes, her gaze drifting over his face, as if trying to read his mood.
    Are you all right?
    He found her warmth filling his mind. She didn’t pour into him as she had before, but drifted in just as her gaze moved slowly over his face. His heart found the rhythm of hers, slowed her frantic pace so that they beat in sync. There were tear tracks on her face and the sight offended him. He crossed to her side and reached down to lift her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. She made no protest, but curled into him, resting her head against his shoulder. Her hair spilled around her face, hiding her expression, but she couldn’t hide her mind from his.
    I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been meddling in things I don’t understand. Truly, Zacarias, I’m very, very sorry.
    She was worried for him. She wasn’t thinking of herself or his reaction, the things he’d said and done to her, she was worried about how the memories had affected him.
    “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