Eyes of the Cat (10 page)
Authors: Mimi Riser
“Oh, yes. We know all about
your
promises, don’t we?”
“Damn it, lass, listen to me!” he exploded, pinning her wrists to the bed.
It was the worst possible move he could have made. It blew near panic into terrified berserk. Tabitha shrieked and thrashed like all the fiends of hell were upon her. Hardly surprising, since that’s pretty much what she felt was happening.
Suddenly having a genuine battle on his hands to quiet her, Alan overlooked one small detail. To watch out for himself. A frantic knee came up and hit him in what was probably the only place that could have stopped him.
With a groan that had nothing to do with pleasure, he rolled off her and onto his feet, clinging to one of the bedposts for support, while he caught his breath—and a couple of other things that were rather important to him.
Having no idea what she’d done to prompt such a reaction, Tabitha rolled off on the opposite side of the bed and stood staring in amazement, rapidly replaying her last few moves, trying to figure it out, just in case it was a defense she could use in the future.
Worry about it later, you nitwit! Get out now, while you can
, that inner voice broke into the analysis.
“Right,” she answered aloud, scurried to the barricaded door, pressed her back against the side of the mahogany dresser, and painstakingly began inching it away. There was an abrupt, scraping whoosh, and she tumbled backward, only to be caught by a pair of strong hands right before denting her gown’s bustle (not to mention what lay behind it) on the hardwood floor.
“I should have let you hit it,” a low voice growled, as the hands hauled her to her feet.
“Then why didn’t you?” she said with a tartness that was meant to mask her fear. It didn’t quite manage it. Nor did the aggravated shrug she gave trying to free herself from his hands.
Alan released her only long enough to grip her by the upper arms and spin her around to face him. “Because I’ve a certain fondness for that part of your anatomy. I’d hate to see it damaged.”
Trying not to tremble in his angry grip, Tabitha riveted her gaze to the floor.
“Look at me!” His grip tightened to a point just short of pain.
Stubbornly, she shook her head, unwilling to trust her voice, not daring to meet his eyes. The man
did
have some sort of Svengali quality; she hadn’t imagined it down in the courtyard. He
had
been mesmerizing or hypnotizing her, or some such thing. That’s how he’d managed to transfix her before. That’s why she’d been behaving so oddly, doing things she never would have dreamed of on her own. He was more devious than she had realized. And a lot more dangerous. An icy prickle crept over her flesh.
The worst of it was she seemed to be so powerless against him. It was horrible to feel so vulnerable. And infuriating not to be able to hide her fear any better than this. She groaned inwardly as an uncontrollable shivering took her over.
Alan pulled her into a warm hug. “Tabitha, you have got to stop this.” He sighed, his tone suddenly quiet, almost tender. He rested his chin on the top of her head. “I can’t have my wife too terrified to even look at me. What kind of a marriage would that be?”
She nearly strangled on a surge of hysterical laughter. “I’m
not
your wife and this isn’t a real marriage!” she gasped against his chest, as the icy shivers began turning hot.
“It is, and you are. But I’ll not stand here arguing that now.” Swinging her up into his arms, he strode for the bed. “You’ve just got a bad case of the wedding night jitters. And I know the cure.”
Tabitha gasped again as she landed with a bounce on the mattress. Before she could draw breath, she was pinned, her arms held immobile over her head and both her legs locked beneath one of his. She went stiff as a statue, and blind as one, too, shutting her eyes against the danger in his. But there was no way to shut her ears against the soothing deep purr of his voice. That was one of the most maddening things of all, that the one who tormented her should also be the one trying to comfort and calm.
“Easy, lass, you’re safe.” Alan planted a light kiss on the corner of her trembling mouth. He followed it with a matching one on the other side. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured, letting his lips trail along her jaw line.
She groaned as he nibbled her earlobe, sending an electric tingle all the way down to her toes.
“You have to relax now, dear, because we’re going to finish what we started before. I’ll take it very slow, and you’ll see there’s nothing to be frightened of,” he whispered against her throat. “Men and women do this every day, and I’ve never known anyone yet to die from it.”
There’s always a first time.
Tabitha moaned, as he laid a row of soft, smoky kisses down one side of her neck and started working his way up the other. Her body’s response was rapidly moving beyond the boundaries of her mind’s control. If she couldn’t halt this soon, she wouldn’t even want to.
“Alan,” she rasped in a frazzled effort to make him take his lips off her for a moment, so she could think.
“What, dear?” he asked against the top of her shoulder.
Damn him. How could he kiss and talk at the same time?
“You…” She ransacked her brain for words that would make him stop. “You seem to know a lot about this sort of thing.”
“Aye, a bit.” He released her hands so his would be free for other activities. Her heart skipped several beats as he began doing them.
Oh, God, do I dare? It might tip him into a homicidal rage.
Alan started to hoist her skirts, and she took the chance.
“Is…is it because
Heather
had the jitters, too?”
His whole body froze, and she pressed home the advantage, raising her lids at last and staring hard up at him. “What happened to her? How did your wife die?” Her voice sounded like ice, but not as chilling as Alan’s when his answer finally came.
“She was stripped, beaten, and staked to an ant hill.” He returned her stare through eyes that had become blazing amber slits. “Any other questions?”
“Yes.” Tabitha fought down a violent wave of nausea. “Did…did you kill her?”
The man never moved, never even blinked. He might have been carved from stone.
“Aye. I’m responsible.”
Suddenly the room was empty of air, and the bed was tilting like a drunken cork bobbing about in the ocean. Alan’s face swam dizzily above her; she couldn’t tell where the rest of him was. Everything was fuzzy…dim…dark…and growing darker. She grappled with it a wild moment—then gave up and sank deep into the blackness.
When she rose to the surface again—how much later, she had no idea—the room was still dim, but only because the oil lamp had been turned down to a tiny, hazy glimmer. Her mind felt equally hazy. She was still in bed, under the covers this time, but these weren’t the cotton sheets she’d slept on the night before. These were…satin? What a ridiculous extravagance. Inwardly shaking her head, she glanced down at them, sat bolt upright, and let out a shriek that rattled the rafters in the room’s vaulted ceiling.
“My clothes are gone!”
“Hush. I had to loosen your corset after you fainted,” came a low purr from just south of the bed. “And once I’d gotten that far, I decided I might as well finish the job.”
Tabitha snatched the top sheet all the way up to her chin, glared across at Alan…
And shrieked again.
“This is becoming a wee bit monotonous.” He strolled around to the empty side of the bed, turned the lamp up a fraction, and gazed calmly down at her. “You know, dear, it doesn’t do much for a man’s self-image when a woman screams the first time she sees him minus his trousers.”
“I-I’m sorry,” she flustered out, suddenly remembering
why
she had fainted in the first place. He was a wife murderer. And he viewed her as his current wife. And—
Keep him talking!
“I…I didn’t mean… It’s just…just that you startled me. I’ve never seen a man completely un…undressed before.”
“Oh well, in that case, I forgive you.”
Obliging, wasn’t he?
The mattress sloped as he sat down beside her.
Ripping the top sheet out from under him, she hastily wound it around herself and started scooting as far away as she could get. A warm hand shot out and grabbed her wrist before she could slip to the floor.
“You’re going the wrong way, lassie. I’m over here.” He tugged on the wrist to draw her closer.
She latched on to the nearest bedpost with her free hand and held on for dear life. A crowbar couldn’t have pried her loose.
But Alan managed it anyway. One stiff yank, and she was sliding across the slippery satin and staring, with a sort of glazed fascination, at the broken piece of bedpost clutched in her white knuckled fist.
A club?
His eyes must have read the expression in hers. The post went sailing through the air, bounced once as it struck the floor, and rolled under the dresser.
“Don’t worry about it, dear. I’ll have it mended later,” Alan said, in response to the dismayed look on her face. “Now come here. There’s something I want to tell you.”
I’ll bet it’s something I don’t want to hear, Tabitha thought, and countered with a quick, “Actually, that’s not true what I said before. You’re not the first nude man I’ve seen.”
The grip on her wrist hardened, and his eyes darkened with suspicion. “Another surprise, Tabitha?”
“I…I’ve seen pictures of Michelangelo’s
David
,” she admitted weakly.
A small grin began twitching the corners of his mouth. “Oh? And how do you think I compare?”
A hell of a lot better, she realized—
gulp
—and changed the subject again.
Or tried to. His arm snaked around her waist, hoisting her over and onto his lap before she could utter another word.
“That’s better. But don’t you find this sheet a bit constricting? I know I do,” he said, casually inching the satin away from her breasts.
She caught her breath and the sheet at the same time, yanking the latter away from him and clutching it frantically against herself.
“You are a Nervous Nellie, aren’t you? I’d have thought you’d be getting at least a little used to me by now.” Alan sighed and tightened his embrace, as though that would still the trembling that had overtaken her. It increased it, in fact, making him sigh again and tuck her head against his shoulder.
“Listen, lass, I do appreciate why you’ve been frightened of me. But you can’t possibly understand the whole story, and you’ve given me no chance to explain it.”
“So, explain now!” She tried to push away.
He cradled her closer.
Tabitha broke off the fight. Struggling didn’t help, she was beginning to realize. It only made her more aware of that masculine form pressing against her. Of course, not struggling didn’t work either. There was simply no way to block the feel of his hot raw energy wrapping around her, holding her fast. She suddenly had a great empathy for all the little creatures who’d ever been snared in a spider’s silken web.
“Another time. I’m hardly in the mood to discuss it at present,” Alan answered her. “I only want to point out that if I wanted to harm you, I’ve had ample opportunity to do it before now.” His hand traced the length of her bare arm, stroking from the wrist to the elbow, elbow to shoulder, and over the shoulder till it tangled in the long locks at the nape of her neck.
“I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to make love to you,” he whispered.
What’s the difference?
The one would end her life, but the other would end everything that made her life worth living.
“You’re only frightened because this is your first time. Would it set your mind at rest if I told you what to expect?” Alan offered, sounding almost fatherly.
His tone set her teeth on edge. “Good heavens, I’m not a child. And I have an extensive background in science—including biology! I fully understand the human reproductive system and how it functions,” she grumbled into his neck.
“I’m relieved to hear that. It makes things so much easier if we both know what goes where.” He chuckled. And instantly had to tighten his hold again as she tried to lunge away.
One hand still buried in her hair, he pulled her head back to meet his eyes. Before she had time to resist, she was trapped, drowning once more in those smoldering amber pools.
“Tabitha,
what
is the problem? I’ve been most patient with you so far, but I am fast reaching the end of my tether. I don’t want to force you to do something you’re uncomfortable with, but if you can’t give me a good reason for all this fuss, I may end up doing just that.”
The threat snapped something awake inside of her. Sudden outrage and indignation gave her the strength to tear free from his gaze.
“I’ll give you at least
three
. Number one, regardless of how you view this mock marriage, I do
not
consider it valid. And I was raised to believe that intimate relations between unmarried people are
wrong
. Number two, even if none of that were the case, I simply do not
want
to be married. I have a life already that I am very satisfied with. A life that does
not
include domestic servitude, men, or children. I have other plans for myself. Important plans!”
