Getting himself settled into the oversized, comfortable stuffed chair in his bedchamber, General Miguel drew Ree down into his lap, only then looking at the book she carried. He couldn't restrain a low groan at the title. "Christian's 'Little Mermaid'?" he complained. "Look, querida, why not let me read the other one?" Leaning over, he found the brightly coloured, illustrated pasteboard book and held it up. Ree shook her head stubbornly, clutching her choice with determined fingers.
"That's not real!" she announced scornfully. "This is. I want what's real."
"But I've read that one every night for the past week. Wouldn't you like something different?" He held up another book enticingly.
Looking mulish, the young woman shook her head, hugging the chosen book to her chest. With a sigh, the general gave in, and sat back, taking it from her and opening to the beginning.
"'Far, far from land, where the waters are as blue as the petals of the cornflower...'" he read. Ree snuggled down in his lap, laying her head against his shoulder so she could watch the pages as he turned them. A couple of times, he tried skipping sections of the story, but she caught him at it and forced him to go back.
"'Again she looked at the prince; her eyes were already glazed in death. She threw herself into the sea and felt her body changing into foam. The sun rose out of the sea, it's rays felt warm and soft...'"
Ree made a soft, contented sound and Carlos Miguel paused gazing down at her curiously, thinking she was about to say something. She looked up at him fiercely, shaking her head and pointing to the page.
"...'For every tear we shed, God adds a day to the three hundred years we must already serve.' The end. Querida, I have to tell you, that is not a happy story."
"Yes it is," she replied blithely, slipping out of his lap with a peculiar skip and retrieving the book with a proprietal air. She walked over to the bathroom connecting their two rooms, still speaking as she tried to explain. Carlos Miguel followed her.
"She did what she had to and that gave her a chance to become more than she was. Besides, that's the way mermaids act."
"But she didn't marry the prince and live happily ever after."
For a few moments, the young woman who only thought of herself as Ree looked her age as mature sadness touched her features.
"Sometimes, ... It just doesn't work out that way," she replied. As she sighed, the general felt a tightening in his heart, a coldness settling in. If she remembered who she was, she'd leave him. He took a step closer. Ree glanced up at him suddenly, her mood shifting mercurially.
"Are you ok, Carlos Miguel?" she asked teasingly. "You going to fall down?"
He thought for a second, then nodded judiciously. "Yes, I think I am going to fall down." And he did, one hand swooping out to pull Ree down on the bed with him, both of them laughing and giggling. He had discovered the ridiculous fact that she was extremely ticklish and as he pressed his advantage, she grabbed up one of her pillows and began to pummel him.
With a lion's roar, he pulled her weapon away, throwing it out of reach and he pinned her to the bed. Ree squirmed under him, still laughing and playing, but he lost all sense of play, immediately serious as he studied her. Picking up his mood, Ree stopped struggling, watching him curiously as she tried to figure out what he was up to.
He kissed her, his need driving him to a roughness he didn't intend. With his body holding hers down, his hands holding her wrists, Ree's immediate struggle didn't have much affect. She turned her head to one side, an expression of disgust on her face.
"Yee-uck! Carlos Miguel! That's gross."
Stung by the comment, he got one hand free, forcing her head back around and he kissed her aain, forcing his tongue into her mouth as his body rocked against her, his need increasing. With his legs he forced hers apart. Ree shook her head from side to side, trying to get free, her breathing in ragged pants as she grew frightened.
When he let go of her chin to jerk the nightgown up out of his way, she was finally able to talk again.
"What are you doing," she cried, tears running down her cheeks. "This isn't right. You're making bad touches." His hand found the band of her underpants and slipped beneath and Ree's whole body jerked. "No! NO! That's bad touch. Don't touch me there. I'll tell my daddy."
"Your daddy's dead," he growled back. "Your mother's dead and I'm all you have. Just relax, Ree. You'll enjoy it."
"No, no, no..." Shaking her head, crying hard, she murmured the word over and over again, holding her body tense and rigid while his hand fumbled its way over her body. Her obvious distress bothered him; he'd expected her to start to enjoy the attention, and the thought that maybe he should stop and leave her alone occurred to him. As soon as it did, he pushed it aside, suddenly angry with the way she was trying to thwart him.
"It won't work this time," he warned, jerking her panties off her. "Last time, you played me for the fool, but this time, I'm going to get what's mine." He raised himself slightly to undo his pants and Ree took the chance to try to slide away. Grabbing her hair, he pulled her back, pushing her down and with a grunt, he thrust himself into her.
Ree screamed and he slapped her, hard, pressing his hand over her mouth to prevent any more outbursts. Grunting and moaning, nuzzling her neck and ear, General Miguel continued his litany of woes, justifying his actions as he humped his hips, riding her to his own conclusion. Underneath, barely able to breathe, Ree sobbed, her face turned away in a vain effort to deny what was happening.
With a final shudder, Carlos Miguel came and rolled off, falling beside the bruised and battered young woman. Ree immediately jumped off the bed, evading his languid grab for her, running to the space between the wardrobe and wall. She squeezed in as far as she could go, rolling herself up as small as possible into a fetal position.
For several moments, the general just lay there, recovering. Finally, breathing a long-suffering sigh, he pushed himself up, rearranged his clothes and went over to the girl's hiding place. He leaned over, looking in at her.
"Come on out, querida," he said wearily. "You don't want to stay there."
"Go away!" she returned tearfully. "I hate you. I never want to see you again. I wish you were dead. I wish I were dead!" With a wail, she buried her face into her knees.
Carlos Miguel shrugged. She'd come out when she got stiff enough, he decided. After all, there wasn't really anyplace else she could go. He shook his head and headed back to his own bedchamber, leaving both doors to the bathroom open. A few seconds later, he heard the other door close and lock and he grinned to himself. She'd be fine once she came to terms with the way things would be, he decided. Women were funny like that.
Satisfied and pleased with life, he prepared for bed. As he was falling asleep, he was already making plans to have a repeat performance before he got dressed in the morning. The sooner she learned her place in life, the better. And he didn't really care anymore if she was sterile. He loved her exactly as she was, for who she was, and that was that. A lifetime with her would be enough.
Chapter 5
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