Bride of the Tiger Heather Graham (fox in socks read aloud txt) 📖

would think nothing of accepting a rose. Trust me—I have a multitude of stones. Please, keep that one. Just please be sure to tell any admirer that it was created by my company.”

He touched her again, taking the necklace, brushing his fingers over her flesh. Once again Tara unhappily realized that it had not been a gesture made for her benefit. Ashley had loved the necklace, it had looked exquisite on her, and he had taken pleasure in giving it to her. Like a florist with a rose.

They left the shop. Ashley continued to protest, glancing guiltily at Tara now and then. But Tara wasn’t upset. Not at her friend, anyway. Rafe had a talent for giving a gift. He and Ashley walked ahead, while he told her how to judge an emerald, how to seek out the flaws, how to search for good color.

They came to another café; Rafe suggested a cool drink.

Tara had several, sitting silent while the two of them talked.

At last he glanced at his watch and warned them that it was nearing time for the ship to sail. He paid for their drinks and they returned.

As they walked up the steps, the captain was there—almost as if he had been waiting for them.

He had been.

Rafe excused himself to speak with the man.

“Tara, I didn’t know what to do!” Ashley pleaded. “I still don’t. I know that a woman of any character shouldn’t accept a gift like this, but he has no interest in me. I mean, no interest in that way. You’re the one he’s sleeping with. I—”

“Ashley, it’s probably true. He probably has so many emeralds that he just doesn’t know what to do with them. You have dozens of George’s thousand-dollar-plus fashions, and you don’t think twice about that.”

“Yes, but that’s my job. Oh, the emerald is beautiful, and I do love it—”

“And you wearing it is the same kind of advertisement. Ashley, he meant it in friendship. You benefit, and so does he. To worry about it is silly.”

“I hope so,” Ashley said dubiously. “I wish you would stop this foolishness and leap on him.”

Tara sighed and leaned against the wall, frowning. “I just wish he didn’t have so much money. I mean,” she hesitated, “not quite so much. I don’t think I realized until today just how much he really does have. That kind of money, it’s not just money. It’s power, too. That’s frightening, Ashley.”

Ashley smiled a little sadly. “Tara, love is nice in any form, but you told me yourself that your parents adored each other—yet life was miserable for them. Look at the money you’ve poured into that town. He would be perfect for you—you can’t wipe out poverty by yourself, and you know that being destitute is a rough life. Don’t hate him because he has money.”

Tara shook her head. “I never said I hated him, Ashley. I—I think I am in love with him. It’s just—suddenly frightening to see his power.”

“I don’t think that has anything to do with money,” Ashley said.

“You could be right. Hmm,” Tara murmured, gazing over Ashley’s shoulder to watch Rafe, who was still with the captain.

“Ashley, do me a favor. Go play with your emerald. I think we’re going to have a little showdown.”

Ashley smiled happily. “You mean you’re actually going to be nice to that poor man?”

“I’m going to ask him a few questions.”

“Gotcha. No, on second thought, I haven’t gotten any of this! But I’m leaving!”

She hurried away. Tara stretched her back against the paneling and waited patiently. Then she frowned suddenly, noting a man’s back as he hurried down a narrow hallway, heading toward the aft lounge. She pushed herself away from the paneling, trying to recall what it was that had been familiar about the man.

“Are you waiting for me?”

She swung around quickly. Rafe was there, his eyes somewhat skeptical.

“Yes. I want to talk to you.”

“Do you really. How nice,” he said.

Tara set her jaw stubbornly at his caustic tone. “Well?”

“You’re the one who wants to talk.”

“Will you?”

“With pleasure, Miss Hill. I’m always at your disposal. Want a drink?”

She’d probably indulged in a few too many on the island, she thought. Oh, what the hell. One more couldn’t hurt.

“Yes. Thank you.”

She wondered herself how she could be so stiff with a man she had come to know so well. She didn’t want to be stiff. She wanted to turn around and pretend that there couldn’t possibly be anything wrong, that everything about him was exactly what it seemed.

He led her to the forward lounge. It was darker, more intimate, than the one toward the aft. There were little booths here, and decorative little anchors carved in the woodwork separating the niches. Beneath them, the sea was aquamarine, the breeze light. Someone made an announcement in several languages about the ship leaving port shortly.

He ordered them both a beer, then signed the tab. He sat back in the seat, sipping his idly when it arrived, saying nothing at all, but waiting for her to speak.

“I’m curious,” Tara began. “Not only did you manage to book passage on a sold-out cruise, but you have a cabin directly next to ours.”

“That’s no great mystery.”

“Well, if it’s not, I’m afraid I’m terribly slow. Please illuminate the situation for me.”

He smiled slightly. “One of your friends apparently knows something about me, Tara. I’m surprised that you don’t know. I own the ship. Or rather, Tyler Enterprises owns the ship. We own several.”

“Oh.”

At last his hand reached across the table for hers. He was still smiling, but his next words seemed more wistful, more fraught with tension. “Does that make me guilty of something?”

She snatched her hand back. “No. Yes. You could have told me the truth when we talked on the phone.”

He shrugged. “Tara, you were determined that I shouldn’t come. I was equally determined that I should.”

“Why?”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Because of Caracas?”

“Obviously.”

“I’ve got another question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“Yesterday I was being harassed by a reporter who suddenly and rather mysteriously disappeared. Did