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

“Hello. Excuse me.” Quickly she jerked her arms free and dashed after her prey, Ashley still on her heels.

He was starting to move toward the buses. She followed. “Wait! Sir! Wait!”

She was almost on top of him. Unable to ignore her anymore, he stopped, an unhappy expression on his face.

“Sir! You’re related to Rafe Tyler!”

“Uh—”

“Please. You were with him in the Plaza. Having lunch. And you were on the boat. And you were just following us!”

He grimaced sheepishly. “Not doing a very discreet job of it, eh?” he said with a sigh.

Tara frowned. “I don’t understand. Why weren’t you with us on the ship? You are his uncle, aren’t you?”

“In a way.”

Ashley, panting, reached them. “Hi,” she said, out of breath.

“Hi,” the man said.

“I’m Ashley.”

“I’m Sam.”

“Sam! Good, that’s a start!” Tara snapped. “Now, Sam, what is going on here?”

Sam didn’t have a chance to answer. From behind Tara came an unknown voice, accented, deep.

“My love! There you are! I’ve been waiting. How good it is to see you!”

Confused, Tara began to turn. She barely saw the Latin man with whom she had just collided, and then she was gasping, because he swooped her into his arms, holding her in such a crush that she could barely breathe, much less speak.

“Tara!” she heard Ashley scream. She dimly saw that Ashley tried to come after her but that another young man stepped in her way and crudely knocked Ashley down.

The old man, Sam, was white. She was terrified to see him start running and then fall from a well-aimed and determined blow like the one that had sent Ashley to her knees.

Tara opened her mouth and screamed. Her captor’s arms tightened more securely about her.

“Someone wants to see you, baby! And it’s worth a lot of money!”

She screamed again. She could hear a murmur of voices. She struggled, managing to tear a nice gouge out of her assailant’s face.

But all to little avail. Tourists were beginning to murmur, as if they were beginning to realize that this wasn’t a lovers’ tryst at all.

But could anyone help? She was being swiftly carried toward a waiting compact car, the engine running, a driver ready to hit the gas the minute she was tossed into the back seat.

Panic seized her. She was afraid that she would lose consciousness.

She should have never come back. It seemed that Tine had waited for her after all.

No! She wasn’t a fatalist—and she wasn’t going to be anyone’s victim. Not while she could still scream, still breathe, still move. She started struggling again, and screaming, wriggling so wildly that her captor had to slow down. She could see that Ashley was up again, shrieking that someone needed to help them.

Just then another car drove into the gravel parking lot. She could hear the sudden screech of the tires.

“Let her go! Now!”

Rafe’s voice…

The man holding her hugged her tighter against him. She was aware of his cologne, aware of the rough fabric of his shirt against her cheek.

And then she felt another set of arms, wrenching at her, attacking the man.

The accomplice who had tripped Ashley was suddenly at Rafe’s back. Rafe turned, slammed a fist into the man’s gut, and turned back to Tara. This time when Rafe wrenched at her, her assailant let her go.

Rafe and Tara fell to the ground together.

Both men leaped into the metallic blue car. The tires screeched, dust and rock blew into their faces, and the car careered away down the path.

Rafe’s arms tightened around Tara. She could hear the frantic beating of his heart, the rasping of his breath. He tilted her dirt-smudged face upward. “Are you all right?”

She nodded.

He helped her to her feet. Ashley, dusty, too, from her fall, came racing over.

Sam followed more slowly, watching Rafe unhappily.

“I’ve got to call the police. Ashley, stay with her. No, never mind. We’ll all go together.”

He caught Tara’s hand and dragged her along to the shop, where he explained in Spanish what he wanted. A concerned salesgirl hurriedly handed him the phone. He talked to the police for a moment, describing the car, then hung up.

He gazed at Tara, and she wanted more than anything on earth to believe all the ravaged emotion in the golden gleam of his eyes. But she still hadn’t spoken; she was definitely shaken, still trembling.

And still concerned.

Rafe had certainly made a timely appearance. And he hadn’t registered the least surprise at seeing Sam.

“The police are coming. Can you talk to them all right?” he asked her.

She had barely answered when they heard the sirens.

One of the officers who came spoke English. He seemed to know Rafe—and he also seemed to be somewhat suspicious of her.

She hadn’t met him two years ago—but it was more than possible that he had heard of her.

He questioned her. She told him exactly what had happened. When he seemed a little skeptical, Ashley interrupted vigorously, telling him that everything was exactly the way Tara had told it. Sam spoke up, agreeing with them both and demanding indignantly that the officer treat the victim more tenderly.

“Is someone trying to trail that car?” Rafe asked tensely.

“Sí. They will search for the car. We will do our best. Now, Miss Hill, you are certain you have heard nothing from this man, Tine Elliott, in the two years since he disappeared.”

She knew that she was trembling. With outrage, with remembrance—with fear. “I’m positive!”

The officer nodded. “We’ll take you back to the hotel. Please, don’t wander around in the future.”

“She won’t,” Rafe said grimly.

They returned to the hotel in the police car. It was a silent party. Tara was grateful to Rafe for his appearance, but despite her fear, anger was coming to a boil within her. Perhaps it was even the fear that was fueling the anger. She didn’t know.

In the lobby, she suddenly balked, staring at Rafe. “Maybe you don’t care about your uncle’s health, but I do!” She spun around to face Sam. “Are you all right? I don’t know