The Tiger Prince (15 page)

“Why are you fighting it? It will be easier once you let me have you.”

“Be quiet,” she said jerkily.

“You’ll like it.” His voice thickened. “And God knows we both need it. I think I’m going crazy.”

Her pace quickened until it was almost a run, her boots stumbling on the ties.

He muttered a curse. “Be careful, dammit,” he called after her. “Do you want to stumble into the gorge?”

“No, you wouldn’t want me to do that, would you?” she said through her teeth. “A crippled woman would be of no use to you.”

He suddenly chuckled. “It would hinder things a bit, but we could make a few adjustments and make it work for us. Shall I tell you how?”

“No!” She ran the last few feet to the end of the gorge to the banyan grove where Bedelia was tied. She glanced over her shoulder, but he was still strolling across the gorge, making no attempt to pursue her. She hastily saddled the mare. “If you come tomorrow, I’ll tell Robinson to throw you off the site.”

“No, you won’t. Because I’d become annoyed and that would mean you’d have to do without an overseer.” He smiled. “Did I ever mention how nasty I am when I’m annoyed?”

Dead eyes staring sightlessly in the darkness of the alley.

“You’ll have to solve the problem yourself,” he said softly. “It’s so easy. Why are you making it difficult?”

Sunlight shimmered on the tawny streaks in his hair,
and he seemed bathed in light as he moved lithely toward her. She stared, as helpless to keep her eyes off him as she had been all day as he swung that damned hammer.

“No!” She finally managed to tear her gaze away, mounted, and kicked Bedelia into a trot and then, desperately, into a full gallop.

“I believe Li Sung came to the supply yard tonight,” Ian said.

Ruel stiffened and turned to look at him. “You’re sure?”

“Fairly sure. He had a key. Jane came to the supply yard early this evening carrying a knapsack and left without it. A Chinese man with a limp came two hours later and picked up the knapsack. I followed him but lost him in the bazaar.”

“On purpose?” Ruel asked sardonically.

“God works in mysterious ways.”

“Convenient ways also.”

“Shall I continue to watch the yard?”

Ruel hesitated. “Not now. We know what we need to know. The rest can wait.”

“That’s not at all like you. You’re usually more impatient.”

Impatient? Christ, he was so impatient and on edge, he felt like a volcano about to erupt.

But his impatience had nothing to do with Kartauk.

he rains started early in the morning two days later.

The skies opened and a deluge poured from the heavens. The rain was like everything else in this blasted country, Jane thought with frustration— heavy, warm, and near impossible to fight. During the first few hours she actually welcomed the struggle against the elements because, for the first time in days, she was able to ignore Ruel’s presence and concentrate on the task at hand.

By noon the water had pooled on either side of the track and the workers were slipping and sliding
with every step. By three o’clock the sheets of rain were falling so hard and fast, it became difficult for the workers to even see the heads of the spikes they were hammering. At four o’clock Jane called a halt and told everyone to go home and come back at dawn tomorrow.

“It’s about time,” Ruel muttered as he threw his hammer into the tarpaulin-covered wheelbarrow beside the tracks. “I thought you were going to wait until we drowned in this muck.”

“Don’t come back if you don’t like it,” she said fiercely. “No one asked you to stay. I’m not going to let the rain stop us. I have fifteen more miles to go before the rails are joined, and we’ll be here every day until the job’s finished.”

“Or you’re finished.” Ruel stood looking at her, rain dripping off the brim of his hat and running down his cheeks. “You’re barely able to stand on your feet.”

“I’m fine. You’re the one who’s complaining.” She moved toward the bridge over the gorge. “Perhaps you’d better not come back tomorrow.”

“You don’t get rid of me that easily.” He suddenly smiled. “I don’t like this damn weather, but I can get used to it.”

The demon could probably get used to burning in hell, she thought despairingly. Dear God, it was happening again. He had only to look at her in that certain way and her body began readying, ripening. “Why bother? It can’t be worth it to you.”

“It’s worth it.”

She could feel his gaze on her back as she walked quickly over the bridge. The river was no longer a sickly trickle but a muddy torrent racing through the gorge. The supports were holding firm, she noticed with relief. That’s right, think about the railroad. Forget about how Ruel had looked standing in the rain with his shirt clinging to the ridged muscles of his chest and belly. Think about her weariness and discouragement, not about this strange, aching emptiness between her thighs.

“Why not wait until the monsoons are over?” Ruel
asked quietly. “You can’t make much progress in this rain.”

“We’ll do what we can.” She ducked beneath the heavy canopy formed by the branches of the banyan trees and picked up Bedelia’s saddle. “The maharajah doesn’t make exceptions because of the weather, and that means we can’t either.”

“What a charming man. I can hardly wait to make his acquaintance.”

“Well, it won’t be through me.” Why was he just standing there watching her? Her fingers fumbled with the cinch as she quickly saddled Bedelia. “If that’s what’s holding you here, then you might as well give it up.”

“That’s not what’s holding me. You know why I’m here.”

“I don’t know why—”

“Then stop avoiding looking at me and find out.”

“I don’t want to look at you. Why should I want—” Her gaze met his and she quickly closed her eyes. “No,” she whispered.

But she still saw him standing there, the rain molding his clothes to his body, muscles tense, gaze intent.

“Aye,” he said. “It’s time, Jane.” His tone was soft-, coaxing. “You don’t want to fight me any longer. You’re tired and discouraged, but I can help you forget all this. You want it—take it. If you don’t like me, I won’t bother you again.”

But she knew he would make sure she liked him. He was like one of those powerful ancient mandarins Li Sung had told her about, effortlessly casting spells, mesmerizing his subjects.

Yet she was no helpless simpleton. She had the strength to fight him … if she wished.

If she wished? It was the first time she had admitted to doubt, and a sudden stream of relief cascaded through her. He was right, she was weary of fighting him. Why not let him have his way? One time, and he would no doubt grow bored, as men always did when their needs were assuaged, and she would be done with him.

He was unbuttoning her shirt.

Her eyes flew open.

“Shh.” His face was only inches from her own, his fingers deft and quick on the buttons. “I want only to see you. I didn’t get the chance at Zabrie’s, but I believe today you may be in a mood to be more generous.” He parted the edges of her shirt and looked at her. “Oh, yes, very generous.” He bent forward, his breath feathering her engorged nipple. “Now, let me—”

She cried out, arching back against the mare’s saddle, her hands clenched into fists at her sides as sensation after sensation poured through her.

He sucked slowly, sensuously. “Good,” he muttered. “So good.”

His hand slid beneath her belt and found the curls surrounding her womanhood, petting, tugging. “Part your legs. That’s right, now a little more.”

Her knees almost gave way as he found the nub for which he had been searching.

Her neck arched. A primal cry tightened her throat as he began pressing, plucking.

He lifted his head. Beautiful, she thought dazedly, she had never seen any sight as beautiful as Ruel at this moment, his cheeks flushed pomegranate-bright, his blue eyes glittering.

“Not here in the rain.” His hand left her and he quickly buttoned her shirt. “We need to go somewhere.” He lifted her onto Bedelia and quickly saddled and mounted Nugget. “And, for God’s sake, don’t change your mind.”

She wasn’t sure she had a mind to change. She felt blank, dazed, responding only to touch, like an animal in heat.

He gave Bedelia’s rump a slap to urge her into a gallop. “Only a little while longer,” he said hoarsely. “Hold on.”

Hold on to what? she wondered. She was without a mooring, floating helplessly on the tide Ruel had ignited.

“Wait.” He nudged his horse closer, his hand reaching out to slide up her thigh and cup her womanhood.
His nostrils were flaring, his cheeks hollowed as if from a terrible hunger. “I didn’t have enough. I have to touch you. God, I want
in.
” He squeezed slowly and then released, squeezed again. “Do you know what I’d like to do? I want to drag you down in the mud and strip off your clothes. I want you naked and wanting, holding up your hips, asking me for more.”

The rawness of the words should have offended her. They did not. A thrill of heat shot through her.

His hand fell away and he muttered something she couldn’t hear. “Let’s go, I can’t wait much longer.”

The rain was falling as heavily as ever, but it didn’t cool her. She felt as if nothing could ever cool her again. “Where are we going?”

“The railway station.” He spurred ahead. “It’s closer.”

It didn’t seem close. By the time they reined in at the station platform, she was trembling and shaking, as if with the fever.

“Hurry,” he said jerkily as he lifted her down. “Where are the keys?”

The maharajah’s car. He wanted the keys to the railway car. She fumbled in the pocket of her sodden denim trousers as he propelled her across the platform toward the maharajah’s private car. He grabbed the keys, unlocked the gold door, and pulled her inside. He slammed the door behind them.

The car was in half darkness, the light streaming through the window gray and bleak, the raindrops running down the glass veiling the interior from the outside world.

“Hurry.” Ruel stripped off his shirt and threw it on the carpet. “God, just listen to me. I promised you it wouldn’t be fast and I’m like all the others. But I’ll try …” He turned and saw that she hadn’t moved. “Why aren’t you undressing?”

She couldn’t seem to move. She was aching, still hot with the same fever, but found herself unable to look away from him. She had never seen anyone so alive, so charged with emotion. She could feel his need and passion.
He blazed like a thousand burning candles in the pearly dimness.

“Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind. I couldn’t …” He stepped closer, his fingers unbuttoning her shirt, his tone velvet-soft, almost crooning. “Did I frighten you? I promise you’ll like me. We have only to get past the first time, and I’ll keep my word.”

His brown hair was wet, and she couldn’t distinguish the golden threads she knew ran through it. His magnificent face was alight, his eyes shimmering as he exerted a magnetism so strong, she could only stare at him, mesmerized.

He peeled the wet shirt off her and dropped it on the floor. He slowly bent forward and his warm lips brushed the hollow of her left shoulder.

A shudder went through her. The touch was much less intimate than the ones that had gone before, but somehow was more boldly sensual.

“I’m hurting so much, I don’t think I can hold on for very long until—” He broke off and laughed harshly as he looked down at his hands. “Christ, look at me. I’m trembling. You’ll have to do the rest yourself.”

His confession of weakness broke the spell. Her hands were also trembling as they went to her belt. She felt weak, helpless, wax-pliable, her heart pounding as hard as the rain on the metal roof. Dear heaven, she wanted his hands on her again. She had to rid herself of these clothes, rid herself of barriers so that he would touch her.

“That’s right.” His tone was coaxing, encouraging, as he sat down on the divan and took off his boots. “It’s going to be fine. You know we both want this.” He paused, half undressed, his gaze on the fleece surrounding her womanhood. “Soft,” he whispered. “I remember how soft….”

Heat moved through her, and she clenched as if his hand were still there between her thighs, searching, caressing.