Loving Lies. Tina Donahue
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Cover Copy
Deception knows no limits. Passion knows no bounds.
When she is kidnapped, Senorita Isabella knows the men have been sent by her uncle in a murderous attempt to control her family’s fortune. But when she is rescued by a dashing and mysterious warrior, Isabella can’t imagine why a stranger would risk his life for her—until she discovers her rescuer believes she’s someone else….
Fernando de Zayas loves nothing more than the cry of battle. Defying death is his way of life. But when he discovers his betrothed has been kidnapped, he rushes to her aid—never suspecting that spirited beauty would soothe his warrior heart…
With her uncle’s minions close on their heels, Isabella finds herself drawing closer to Fernando. But as the desire between them builds, her secret could keep them apart forever…
Visit us at www.kensingtonbooks.com
Books by Tina Donahue
Dangerous Desires Series
Loving Lies
Wicked Whispers
Passionate Pursuit
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
Loving Lies
Dangerous Desires
Tina Donahue
LYRICAL PRESS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
Copyright
Lyrical Press books are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2015 by Tina Donahue
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
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Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
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Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.
First Electronic Edition: February 2016
eISBN-13: 978-1-60183-587-1
eISBN-10: 1-60183-587-6
First Print Edition: February 2016
ISBN-13: 978-1-60183-588-8
ISBN-10: 1-60183-588-4
Printed in the United States of America
Dedication
To Denysé Bridger, an amazing author and a dear friend.
Author’s Foreword
I fell in love with Spain when I wrote my first Kensington historical Just One Kiss. The late fifteenth century was a dangerous yet magical time in which warrior knights faced endless peril and strong, spirited women carved out a place for themselves in a decidedly male world. Isabella and Fernando’s story is a sensuous tale filled with romance, adventure, and love that wasn’t meant to be but neither of them could deny.
Acknowledgements
To Penny Barber for her wise and always accurate suggestions.
Chapter 1
The Moorish Kingdom of Granada, Spain—1488
Al-Caicería—The Great Bazaar
“Harem!” The slave trader’s shout rose above other voices in the open-air market. He dug his fingers into the hooded robe hiding Isabella Lopéz de Lara’s face and nudity. “Harem!”
The Arabic word seemed to linger in the still, warm air. Sweat trickled down Isabella’s cheek. Her abduction in Andalucía, on orders from her murderous uncle, was far too real and horrifying now.
Someone brushed past, startling her. The individual’s sandals or boots slapped hard against the ground, the sounds fading quickly. Isabella snatched a breath. The hem of her robe pulled away from her legs. She stilled, terrified to move. Work-roughened fingers slid over her ankle and up her calf.
Holding back a scream, she backed into the slaver. He released his hold on her robe and shouted in Arabic, his words incomprehensible to her. An object whistled close to her face, followed by a harsh crack and a man’s agonized cry.
The hand jerked away from her leg. A series of brutal whacks and stumbling noises rose above the other sounds.
Swallowing hard, she listened for what she couldn’t see.
Too many buyers shuffled close, stirring up dust to mingle with the scents of cooked meat, cloyingly sweet perfumes, the stench of animals and men. Crude male voices yelled the word harem repeatedly. Moments later, fabric snapped.
She pictured the slaver stripping one of the other captives, forcing the poor woman to display herself.
Murmurs floated through the crowd. The slaver shouted above them, making the men speak faster, louder.
As they offered bids?
She shuddered, expecting the slave to plead for mercy.
Whoever the girl was, she held her tongue, seemingly resigned to her fate the Moors deemed qisma, destiny.
Men pushed past with cruel indifference, some pressing so close Isabella could smell the grime on their robes. Sickened, she stepped back. The slaver said something and ran his fingers down her shoulder to her arm, touching the side of her breast. She jerked away from his filthy touch. Those surrounding them laughed. The slaver pulled her tightly against him, proving she was in his world, his property, even though she was the daughter of a grandee and duke.
Her late father’s position hardly mattered now. Her only hope was in escape that seemed impossible.
Voices rose and fell during countless negotiations, sheep bleated, children played. Someone spoke above the din, the tone unusually high-pitched, sounding neither female nor male, marking its owner as a eunuch. A man who was no longer male.
His comments grew strident. The slaver shouted in return.
Her pulse pounded. If a way out existed, she had to see it. The eunuch and slaver argued on. She pulled at the hood of her robe and slowly lifted her head until she could see past the cloth.
The sun hung heavy in the sky, turning Granada’s structures a blinding white. Squinting at the overwhelming brightness, she regarded the numerous