Castille De La Luna With Kiefer

Authors Notes:

Here it is, the newest installment of my Fanfic. I hope this one is as good as the first one and that everyone will enjoy it. As always, please, if you like it and want more, feel free to ask for more and vote for it. Thanks to those of you who did e-mail asking for more. It was much appreciated. I also want to thank my Mom for letting me pick her brain on the subject of Andalusian horses. bards lady

Every morning since I woke up from that deliciously wicked night with Kiefer Sutherland, I had been hounded by the tabloid reporters wherever I went, be it to the grocery store or just outside to check on my bike. They knew they didn't dare pull any cute stunts as I had already cost several their jobs by getting photos of them doing illegal crap to my landlords property and handing them over to the appropriate Authorities. Hey, they're paid to get the stories, no matter what, not become the topic of the story. Yeah, it's good to know what they're up to. But it was really becoming a pain in the ass to work. I couldn't do my nightly shoots of murals without someone showing up to scare off the artist. Frustrated, I finally holed up in my apartment and only came out when necessary. When my manager called a week later and said he wanted to see me, now, I had no choice but to go down and see what the guy wanted. I had a bad feeling about this all the way around. But if I wanted to get paid, I had to go and see what Fred wanted, Fred being my manager/best friend/guy that gets me the juiciest assignments for the best prices.

This assignment? Go to Barcelona and do a photo shoot on the Andalusian horses that a Mr. Raoul Cordoba had out on his ranch just outside the city. Double the usual fee if I can get a good photograph of a Black Andalusian stallion. Right. Looking up the breed on the internet, I discovered that that particular color is rare for that type of horse. Ah well. Even if I just get the regular photo spread, my employer was footing all the expenses for my trip. Including the food, lodging, and any other expenses. An hour after I walked out of the office, I was on the first plane to Spain. First class even. The job was an ASAP and the tickets were made for me to leave the moment I accepted the job. I'm used to rush jobs and was prepped. I actually had bags for this sort of thing. Open, toss in stuff, and go . Except for my digital camera, my laptop, and some entertainment CD's, the rest was in the hold of the plane.

Two days later, I walked out of customs at Barcelona's Airport. Much to my surprise, all my stuff made it, intact. The shocker was the Chauffeur waiting just outside the entrance with a placard that had my name on it. An equally pleasant shock came as I was escorted to the penthouse condo style hotel room that I had all to myself. A Jaccuzzi, an olympic *to me, that is* sized bathtub and all the amenities that anyone could ever want.

I was thinking to myself, 'What am I? a pampered spoiled Princess?' To that I merely smiled and answered, out loud, "No, but I'm working on it."

I ignored the questioning look of the bellboy and glanced around the main room. Awaiting me was a good dinner for one and an invitation from Mr. Cordoba to join him at his estate in three days. The moment I was alone, I used my cel phone to call Kiefer and tell him what was up, just in case. I wasn't too surprised to get an automated voice mail. In my mind my rational thought was, "Geeze, it was a one night stand, he probably doesn't even remember me." but my hand strayed to the locket around my neck and my irrational mind just laughed softly, presenting my mind with images of that night under the full moon. This sweet torment elicited a groan from my lips.

I yawned as jet lag set in. So I ate, took a shower, and slipped nude into the Jaccuzi to ease my tense and travel exhausted body. As the bubbles started to caress my skin, teasing my nipples with the fizz, I sat back and relaxed, letting the jets of warm water pummel and caress my skin. My eyes closed and fantasized that it was Kiefer's fingers massaging my skin. The water jets felt like his lips pressing against the base of my neck.

Groaning, I shifted restlessly in the water, gripping the marbled sides as I moved nearer to one of the jets. In my minds eye, it was Kiefer's body I saw angling itself to thrust his hard cock into my waiting pussy. It was his well-muscled body working my own into a fevered pitch. Just then the power jets thrust open my outer lips and rammed it's own power inside to pummel my clit. It was almost like a deep seated thrust of a hard cock. I was rocked to a massive orgasm by a jaccuzzi. It was so powerful I bit my lip to keep from annoying the city with my screams of passion.

Limp with exhaustion and satedness, I dried off and crawled between the sheets of the bed that would be my home for the next month or two. Or however long it took to finish the assignment. My last thought before the Sandman drew me into sleep was what Kiefer was doing at that moment. The last image that floated across my mind were those incredibly blue eyes and that voice saying, "I'll be thinking of you, every moment." Then sleep sucked me into it's warm and comfortable embrace for the rest of the night. If I dreamed, I don't know what it was about. I was too exhausted to care, I think.

Morning was met with a sense of wonder. Waking up refreshed, I decided to see the sights and get some scenic photos. You know, play tourist. Maybe even go shopping. Yes, a good day.

I tossed on jeans and a T-shirt, then grabbed my camera before heading down to the front desk. I found out what tours and transportation was going where and at what time. I managed to get to one of the open air shopping areas along the oceanside without incident. The weather was warm, there were no clouds, and the sun shone like a bright candle in the sky. It was the smell that attracted me most of all. It was the scent of flowers that were blooming in the market stalls, the salt air of the Mediterranean that wafted in from the bay, and the pleasant aroma of the food that floated out of the restaraunts that surrounded the market. So many things to see, not enough time to see them all. I got some outstanding photos while I did some shopping for myself. Most of the things I got were clothes and a few small mementos here and there to remind me of such a beautiful place. I learned early on to keep the mementos either flat or small.

By the time I made it back to the comfort of my room, tripping over my own two feet in the process, I was exhausted but too jazzed to sleep. So I did what came naturally. I grabbed the camera and went to the balcony of my room and got photos of the sun as it set over the whitewashed buildings and coral red rooftops of Barcelona. It was too good of an opportunity to miss.

You know, in some parts of the world, the colors are brighter, the hues are richer and the whole sunset thing is more spectacular than what we have at home. Yeah, it was one of those times I was glad I was a photographer. They say pictures are worth a thousand words. I say that pictures capture a moment in time and keeps it fresh for eternity. Or however long the picture lasts before it becomes damaged or destroyed.

Soon, however, the stars were twinkling and sounds drifted up to my ears from the streets below. It was the sirens call of the city alive with music and laughter. I couldn't resist such an invitation to relax after a whole day's adventure into the city. So, I showered and dressed in a pair of dark blue draw string pants and a shirt of a dark peacock blue. Roman style sandals adorned my feet. Looking in the mirror, I sighed. I was not going to go out on the town looking like frankenstein's monster.

Determined, I took a pair of scissors to the stitches on my face, removing all of them and replacing them with a neat bandage setup. I put a hair clip on the right side of my hair. It had blue and black feathers that complimented my short hair. I inspected the rest of my face in the mirror, not that I really needed to, but you never know. The light from the bathroom glinted off the locket around my neck. I couldn't help it, I had to smile at the memory of how it was delivered to my hands. I had added a light gray leather thong to the locket chain to keep it around my neck in case the chain broke for whatever reason. With a final look over my whole attire, I was ready to go and enjoy the evening.

Nightlife in Barcelona is something that is not to be missed when visiting that city. The scent of night blooming flowers, the sounds of people having a good time in open air cafes and the open doors of nightclubs, and the glint of the moonlight sparkling off the Mediterranean ocean. Walking along the quay next to the ocean, my ears perked up at the sound of a Flamenco guitar and followed the sound to a small bar just on the very edge of the ocean side of the city. It was teeming with people who were laughing and smiling. It looked to be no more than a small room on the outside. But in actuality, after I got inside, it turned out to be a refurbished boathouse on an old dock reinforced with new flooring and boards. The rest of the dock was sort of an outdoor seating and viewing area. It was such a warm and friendly atmosphere I wanted to stay, so I got a beer from one of the ladies tending bar and turned to watch the room. I guess I was rather a bit self-conscious about the bandage on my face and trying not to feel gun shy in bars. To my relief, no one really glanced a second time at me as they were intent on a Flamenco dancer showing off her moves on the hardwood floor set in the middle of the bar.

Overcome with a sense of melancholy, I wandered out onto the end of the dock to watch the moon and the water. I found a place near the small, vine covered barrier and closed my eyes. The sound of the lapping of the water against the rocks and the odd splash as a fish leaped to heaven only to fall back into earth, was a soothing balm to my soul. The nature sounds combined with the murmer of the club and music of the guitar were a perfect compliment to my second night in a beautiful city. I was content to spend the rest of the night standing there, drinking a beer and listening to the guitar inside. It was almost perfect. The only thing that was missing was Kiefer. I started mentally, damn! would that night forever haunt me with it's sweet torment?

Suddenly, there was -- something, I don't know how to describe it, except the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. As if someone were staring at my back. I casually turned around to watch the doorway to the bar and the darkness near it, wary of even the slightest movement. To make it look natural, I took a sip of my drink, then slowly made my way back into the bar and the crowds. On alert, I slowly scanned the shadows with my eyes alone, then started walking into the crowds.

Keep it casual, I told myself. No need to get paranoid or anything just yet. Oh, I could take care of myself, I could fight if I have to. But I had wanted to relax this evening, not get another scar like the last one. I got another drink from the bar and moved into the dark shadows near one of the speakers, almost fading into the blackest of the black shadows. Only then did I take the time to truly look for what was causing me to feel like I was under a microscope. I didn't see anyone, but that didn't mean much. With an effort, I shrugged it off and began a determined attempt at enjoying the rest of the evening.

I stayed with my back to the wall, enjoying the music and soon a few of the local men that came over to make small talk. At least one of them asked me to dance. I figured what the heck, and let the guy lead me to the dance floor. The man was lithe as a dancer, and proved it by showing off his moves to me. When it turned out that I didn't know how to dance, he laughed and began teaching me Before I knew it, the entire club was on the floor dancing along with us. The music, the people, and the drinks all made for a wonderful evening of memories. I even laughed along with the rest of crowd who took time out to show a Tourista how to have fun.

Time flew like shooting stars across the sky and by midnight, I was able to break away from everyone and make my way back to the hotel. Thankfully it wasn't that far of a walk because I'd had a teensy weensy bit too much to drink. Oh, not enough to make me stupid, but just enough to put a happy and euphoric glow around everything. Fortunately, the way was lit by soft street lamps most of the way and moonlight the rest of the way. It was nice simply to walk slowly back down streets that, during the day, were packed with tourists out for a good time. Now, the cobblestone roads were quiet for most of the time and the romantics were the only ones out walking the streets.

Safely in my room with the door locked, I stripped naked and took a glass of wine to the balcony to watch the city. I sighed and murmured, "If only you were here, Kiefer. You're missing a wonderful sight." I shook my head and smiled. "I'd better get some sleep. Otherwise I'm going to look a racoon by the time I meet Mr. Cordoba. " I finished the glass of wine as quickly as I could before I turned to the bed and got in between the sheets. I sighed softly and caressed the unused pillows in my bed as errant thoughts drifted lazily through my brain, taking me in the one direction that I DIDN'T want to go. I jerked my hand away from the pillow and rolled over to face the sliding glass doors.

"Get a grip, Diane. You're acting like a sex crazed obsessed fan.. that or a love sick and moonstruck teenager." I scolded myself. "You're here to do a job, not imagine Kiefer Sutherland around every corner." But just the though of that made my body clench tight in unadulterated lust. "Great.. just great.. my hormones have their own mentality." I snorted to myself, determined to sleep without giving in to my fantasies. Even so, it was several hours and a bottle of wine later that I could sleep the dreamless sleep of oblivion. One that, thankfully, didn't have Kiefer Sutherland strolling through them.

The entire next day was spent on the internet and talking with the hotel staff, getting information on Mr. Cordoba. Getting the feel for the man and his tastes so as not to start off on the wrong foot. There wasn't any time to worry about being watched or anything. My mind was on the job at hand and how to go about getting it done. He was well known for his horses and his hospitality. His horses sold for eight figure prices when they did go on the block. His social gatherings were a gala affair, mostly formal.

But, if you were going riding with him, it was informal. Such occasions were by invitation only and one does not easily turn down such an honor. However, he didn't mind having photographers on the ranch, but only if it was the horses and not anything else. I could understand that. You were in a man's private home. You didn't start scoping out his private life while you were there. I had to smile to myself at that thought. Not too different from home.

The morning of my first meeting with Cordoba, I dressed as a professional. Well fitting jeans, riding boots that came up to the knee. A dark green blouse and a vest that contained enough pockets to hold my camera as well as all the spare disks I needed in case the one got filled. My hair got a brushing and the healing scar got a new gauze covering and I was ready to go when the front desk called up and said my Chauffer was waiting to take me to the Cordoba ranch. Just for safety's sake, I grabbed my daypack. It had all the important stuff in it. Laptop, and copies of my ID in case the real ones get stolen. Plus it had a cheap 35 mm camera in it, just for giggles and grins. A final look in the mirror and out the door I went with a laugh and a tingle of anticipation running through my veins.

I reached the front lobby and greeted the chauffer with a smile. The consummate professional, he took my hand in a polite handshake before relieving me of my daypack and holding the door to the white limo open for me to get in.

The drive over was a visual sensation. As the city gradually gave way to suburbs, suburbs to countryside, the flora and fauna became more pronounced. But it was more than beautiful, it was breathtaking. I rolled down the window and began taking pictures of the wildflowers along the side of the road. It was still early enough in the morning that the dew hadn't evaporated from the ground. The sunlight caught the fluid and the resulting rainbow effect was fantastic on the image. It took about an hour to get to Mr. Cordoba's ranch through some of the most stunning landscape you have ever seen. And most of it was owned by the man. What I wouldn't give to have a place like this to go and hide in when things got too intrusive outside.

By the time we pulled up into the circle driveway in front of the place and I felt my jaw drop lower and lower into my lap. This?? This is a horse ranch? Good Gods it looked more like a castle than anything else!

From what I could see of the place from the tinted windows, it was a two story building of natural stone and the road looked to be cobblestones. But you couldn't tell if they were real or not as the limo rolled over it. Good shocks and good driving, I think. Out in front of the massive front doors waited the welcoming committee, but because of the color of the windows on the vehicle I couldn't tell which one was Raoul Cordoba.

The chauffer pulled to a gentle, rolling stop at the main door. I waited until he opened the door before stepping out and grasping the proffered helping hand. If he had noticed anything odd about my face, he never showed it. Nor did he do anything other than hand me my daypack, get back into the car, and drive off. I turned to get a good look at the three men standing in front of me. I think my mouth hit the pavement, again. For standing in front of me was the man I knew as Markus! But instead of leathers and a Harley, he was wearing a tight fitting pair of jeans that were tucked into riding boots and a dark red polo shirt. I think I was in a daze for about ten seconds before a hearty laugh from one side had me turning to see a face that I had never expected to see again.

Damn the man! Kiefer looked suntanned and even better than the last time I saw him. He was dressed in the same thing as Markus except that he had on a black button down shirt with a tan vest over the top. What I could see of him made my legs go weak. His body looked like it had been sculpted by a master craftsmen of the ancient world. Even more so because it looked like he had been working out. Not an ounce of fat on that man's tight body. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he tried to take a step forward, only to be restrained by his partner in this insane plot. They both looked at each other and winked, which immediately put me on alert. Something was up and I wasn't about to be the butt of someone's joke.

The third member of the party would have been a dead ringer for Ricardo Montalban. The only difference was the voice. Where the actors' voice was quite remarkable, this man's voice was like rich Corinthian leather, and just as smooth.

"I am Louis, the butler here at El Castillo del La Luna." I couldn't help but smile at Louis, seeing a kind and good man underneath the uptight outer shell. Louis returned the smile, and gave me a wink before saying, "I will hope you will enjoy your stay here at the Castle of the Moon." And with that, he turned to Markus. "The horses are saddled and ready Senor Cordoba. They but wait for you to attend them." Then he disappeared inside the house.

After the third attempt, I managed to get my jaw off the ground, not to mention my mind out of the dungeon level where it had dropped, and glare at the two of them. "Okay, Someone better start explaining, and fast." I was beginning to feel a bit flustered with two pairs of intense eyes looking at me. "I was sent here on a job assignment and I find the two of you waiting for me." I turned to look at Markus. "You, are Raoul Cordoba?" He nodded, "Markus is my middle name. I like it better than my first." He chuckled, the humor lighting up his eyes, "Oh if you could see your face now." he turned and looked at Kiefer. "Can you and Diane take the horses riding this morning? I'm afraid I have a few things to work on here at the house." I looked Markus up and down then grinned. "That sounded like an escape to me, kiddo. And don't think you're out of the hot seat yet."