B-ronken-R-ing 159...

***

Cárcel gently cradled her face and guided her away when her lips were a second away from meeting their intended mark. He was now retreating toward the bathroom, leaving Inés rooted in place. She could only stare after him in disbelief and shock, unable to comprehend the sudden shift in his demeanor.

His hands had held her cheeks with such tenderness that she had not even noticed the distance he was creating. Even when he knelt before her, she had assumed that he meant to kiss her. After all, Cárcel loved his little kisses and never took anything for himself. It seemed entirely in keeping with his nature, foolish though it was, to pursue her lips rather than succumb to the desire to thrust his arousal between them. A part of her had also been pleased to see him kneeling, bare and vulnerable.

However, instead of lowering his lips to hers, Cárcel had pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Then, to her utter bewilderments, tears had begun to spill from his eyes.

Inés now glared at the closed bathroom door, her mind struggling to decipher the meaning behind his strange reaction. What could possibly bring him to tears? She was here, after all, she thought with a touch of arrogance. But her confidence faltered as doubt crept in. Could it be... that he doesn't want me here?

She was certain that those tears were not born of gratitude and joy. They did not appear to stem from guilt either. Her brow furrowed as she replayed the memory of him kneeling before her, naked and still erect, gazing at her with a mix of reverence and sorrow. In that moment, his eyes had finally met hers, something he had avoided ever since his return to Calztela.

Any other man would have appeared completely ridiculous in such a state, but Cárcel had exuded a sensuality that stirred her-a part of it had to do with his handsome looks, and another part of it was that she had been overcome with desire. In fact, she had been vibrating with lust as she made him turn around and bend over the console, her hands reaching to stroke his arousal. Her desire had only flared more as she listened to his stifled moans, as if he were enduring some unbearable torment.

But then he had shed those sorrowful tears and donned his gown. Inés had simply stared at him in confusion as he pulled her to her feet and led her to the other console where a bowl of water awaited. He washed her hand, removing the evidence of her efforts to tease him. Then, with a steady gaze that seemed to contradict all his previous avoidance, he said, "I believe the bath is ready. "When she tilted her head, bewildered, he added, "I must wash myself, Inés. Please, go downstairs and rest."

Hence, she had stood there, dumbfounded, as he turned away and walked into the bathroom.

In hindsight, it was all because Cárcel had looked her in the eyes and smiled like they had never been apart. She had become momentarily stunned by the sight that she had been longing for, and he had seized that moment to walk away.

"Did he just... reject me?" she muttered, incredulous. "He was clearly aroused by my touch, so why...?"

She still remembered the rush of heat and desire that had surged through her as she knelt before him in a silent offer to pleasure him with her mouth. It was an act that had disgusted her in the past, but with Cárcel, she felt none of that revulsion. She had thought it a trifling gesture, especially when compared to all the care he had always taken to ensure her pleasure during their moments of intimacy.

Her thoughts drifted to a time long ago when she had perched on that cliff, whispering every single prayer she could recall. When she found that she could not remember any more, she had chanted to herself over and over until the words blurred together: "None of it matters. It cannot hurt me. None of it ever happened... It never happened..." She knew that something must have changed within her. Otherwise, she wouldn't feel so angry about being unable to do something that would pleasure nobody but Cárcel.

It's his loss. That insolent dog... Even as she pursed her lips in frustration, a fierce yearning stirred within her. She felt the urge to pull him from the bathroom and tear down the walls that he had dared to put up between them. She longed for him to look into her eyes and smile at her again. She could kneel on the floor all day long if it meant she could conquer him.

She wanted to corner him and test the limits of his resolve.

But Then Inés remembered the sting of rejection, how disappointed and stunned she had felt when Cárcel had gently pushed her away. Am I too desperate... or immature? Perhaps her fiery, competitive nature had twisted her desires, steering her down this path. Or maybe it was the way that Cárcel had acted so uncharacteristically shy and modest that had sparked this strange lust within her. Her mind spun with anxious questions and unfulfilled desire, creating a cacophony that refused to be silenced.

She wondered if the head injury had scrambled his brain, but she quickly dismissed it and told herself that he was simply exhausted and in pain. There could be no other explanation for his strange behavior.

However, the more rational part of her mind began to refute these thoughts. His eyes had been clear and focused, suggesting that he was in control of his faculties. Moreover, it was very unlikely that fatigue alone would prevent him from lying with her. After all, he had once braved an arduous journey between Calztela and Mendoza just to see her face.

As for his injury... she would have to inspect it herself.

Inés fixed her gaze on the bathroom door. She had to see him. It was the only way to make sense of the turmoil within her.

As she stood there, more doubts began to seep into her mind. Now that she thought about it, she realized that Cárcel had never truly enjoyed it when she pleasured him with her mouth-almost like he hated the way his own body responded to her touch. A wave of regret followed swiftly on the heels of doubt. I should have stopped at teasing him with my hands... She sighed, burying her face in her palms.

It did not take long for anxiety to stain her thoughts. I just wish he would tell me how he got injured, she thought, her nerves fraying with each passing moment. She began to chew on her nails, then bit down hard on her lower lip, barely noticing the pain. Did he lose weight? At first glance, he seemed fine, but... Perhaps he suffered the aftereffects of his injury alone during his journey back, with no one to tend to his wounds.

Unable to contain the storm of her anxiety any longer, Inés crossed the small bedroom with just a few swift strides and came to a stop in front of the bathroom door. She took a deep breath, then reached for the doorknob.

To her astonishment, the knob refused to budge. She stared at it in disbelief, then tried again, applying more force. Still, the door remained resolutely locked.

"Did he... lock me out of the bathroom?" she muttered. A roaring wave of anger rushed through her, sweeping away the tender concern that had gripped her only a moment ago. Huffing in frustration, she growled, "What does he take me for, some sort of intruder with lecherous intent?"

The Cárcel she knew would have jumped in joy with his tail wagging at her suggestion to bathe together. But now, it was like he had transformed into a stranger. Locking the bathroom door... unbelievable!

"Escalante!" she called out to him, her tone edged with annoyance. The loud sound of water splashing drowned out her voice.

For once, she wasn't trying to lure him into playful intimacy in the tub. She did not even wish to tease him like she had earlier. She simply wanted to see his face again, to gaze into his eyes-perhaps for a moment longer this time.

Hurt and anger blazed through her like wildfire. Do you have any idea how much I missed you? Do you know how long I was sitting there, staring at that path... just waiting for you to return? However, she immediately quashed her rage when the image of Cárcel's pale face came to mind.

She carefully contemplated how he had caught her in a tight embrace back in the stable, then desperately whispered a prayer as he kissed her hand. She knew that moment had been genuine-he had not feigned that happiness and exhilaration. Well then, she mused silently. If he wishes to put up that temporary wall of resistance between us, so be it. She knew it would crumble soon enough; she would see to that.

She returned to the bed and sat down with her body still facing the bathroom door. She picked up the book that she had been reading the night before. Although her heart had finally calmed, her eyes wandered around the page without absorbing a single word. In truth, she had been stuck on the same page for days. For a while, she listened to the water splashing as she read the same passage over and over before finally allowing herself to sink back onto the covers, her eyes sliding shut with fatigue.

Soon enough, her entire body relaxed, her tension melting away, as if Cárcel's mere presence in the next room was enough to bring her peace.

***

When Inés emerged from the haze of sleep, the sun had already dipped below the horizon. She was lying on her back, even though she had fallen asleep while sprawled on her side. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she sprung up as she remembered seeing Cárcel ride back to the residence. A terrible fear gripped her-what if it had all been a dream? What if he had never returned to Calztela... What if he had never walked into that bathroom?

She scrambled out of bed and raced out of the room. Just as she turned toward the staircase, a thin beam of light caught her eye, spilling onto the hallway from the study. She knew that nobody in the residence ever entered the study aside from Raúl, who went into the room to tidy it up after Inés in the early afternoon. But it was now evening.

Drawn by the light, Inés walked to the study. The door was slightly ajar, leaving a small gap between it and its frame. She placed a tentative hand on the door and quietly pushed it open. There he was, leaning against her desk, a Bible cradled in his hands. Relief swept over her-Cárcel was truly there, not a figment of her imagination. But as she observed him, her brow furrowed in bewilderment. Is he...reading?

She carefully studied his face with genuine concern. His senses were usually very sharp, yet he seemed so engrossed in the book that he didn't even notice her presence. Concern gnawed at her. What if his head injury was worse than she had feared?

"Where is Lieutenant Maso?" she finally asked, her voice shattering the tranquil silence of the study.

Cárcel glanced up with a surprised blink. When their eyes met, he immediately gave her a warm smile. "He's already left after tending to my wound."

"Well, I didn't get to see it," she responded, her tone tinged with mild irritation.

"Perhaps you should rest a little longer-" Cárcel began, but Inés interrupted him with a firm shake of her head.

"Keep reading," she said. "I'm going to watch you read."

At this, Cárcel awkwardly brought his gaze back down to the Bible. His lips twitched as his smile melted away, as if her words had caught him completely off guard. Even this struck Inés as unusual. When she did something unexpected, he usually responded with admiration, as if she had done something impressive or endearing.

She watched him for a moment, then stepped closer, reaching out to brush his hair away from the bandages. She traced the bandage with soft, careful strokes and asked, "Does it hurt much?"

"No," Cárcel replied quietly.

She raised an eyebrow. "Then why won't you let me see it?"

After a momentary pause, he said, "I fear I will look ugly."

His words drew a soft, incredulous laugh from her. "Ugly? A mere scratch could hardly mar your face."

Cárcel simply smiled, his eyes remaining on the Bible.

Still, she did not lift her hand away from his head. "May I unwrap it?" she asked, her voice gentle.

He nodded slowly. "If you can wrap it back in the exact same way."

Inés withdrew her hand. "No, I probably can't." She then leaned closer to glance down at the open Bible in his hands.

"To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven." (Ecc 3:1)

Her gaze traveled over the familiar verse, then continued onto the next passage. But before she could read further, Cárcel suddenly turned his head and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her lips. "If I remember correctly, I never distracted you when you were reading your Bible," he whispered.

"Well, I can," she whispered back, a playful glint in her eyes. "This is my study."

"Indeed, it is." Cárcel chuckled and kissed her once again before closing the Bible with a thud. "When would you like to return to Mendoza?"

"Must I?" Inés asked, her voice betraying a reluctance that she knew sounded quite childish.

Cárcel shook his head as if her wishes were his only concern. "If you do not wish to return to Mendoza, you may delay your departure. You may linger as long as you wish."

"I just..." She hesitated for a moment. "I don't want to go alone."

Cárcel smiled and gently met her gaze. "I never meant to let you go alone."

Her heart lightened, and she gave him a pleased smile. "Then it matters not when we depart."

A hint of tears appeared in Cárcel's eyes, until they threatened to spill over. "Nor does it matter to me," he murmured, his voice thick with unspoken feelings.

She leaned in closer, resting her forehead against his. "But not just yet. I'm fond of this place... Let's stay a while longer."

Cárcel gave her a small nod, his voice a soft promise. "Of course, Inés. Of course... whatever you wish."