Bride of the Tiger by Heather Graham (best large ereader .txt) 📗

little—locked—door that goes into the next suite.”

Ashley grinned secretively and shook her head vehemently. “Tara, it isn’t locked.”

“Well, it should be,” Tara said, rubbing her wet hair with a second towel. “I’ll speak to the cabin steward about it. Someone has been lax.” She paused and shrugged. “Maybe it’s someone in our party. Maybe that’s why they left it open.”

“No. We’re the tail end of our group.”

“Then I’ll say something about it.”

Ashley was still standing by the door.

“What are you doing now?”

“Well—it is open.”

“You shouldn’t have even tried it! That’s—that’s sneaking into someone else’s privacy!”

“How do we know that they haven’t snuck into ours?”

“Oh, Ashley!”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

“No!”

Tara watched her friend. Ashley’s fingers were still on the knob. “Ashley.”

“Oh, come on!”

“Ashley—all we would see is a bunch of luggage! Or worse—what if someone is in there? We could get nice jabs right in the nose, and we’d deserve it.”

“You’re right, of course,” Ashley said.

“Go take your shower.”

“Oh, I can’t stand it!”

And Ashley threw the door open.

“No one is in there,” she whispered. “We won’t get our noses smashed in, which is probably good.” She started to giggle. “Could you imagine having to model George’s fashions with black eyes? He’d have to make shiners the rage of the season!”

“Get out of there!” Tara warned her.

“Whoa!”

Ashley moved on into the cabin. Tara followed her.

“I wonder who this is for!” Ashley exclaimed.

All the suites had offered a welcoming bottle of champagne and platter of fruit. All the suites were nice.

This one was…

Well, the champagne was Dom Perignon. Tara had never seen half the exotic fruits before. And there were cheeses and pâtés and caviar.

The carpeting was deeper, and there was a single large bed with a soft crimson comforter that matched the full-length drapes.

“We’ve just got little curtains!” Ashley murmured. “I wonder who is in here? Oh—look! Luggage. Let’s read the tags!”

“No,” Tara protested—but she was the one approaching the luggage.

Before she could reach it, though, they heard a key turning in the hallway door. Ashley let out a little squeak; she grabbed Tara’s arm and they started to race back to their own cabin.

Ashley grabbed at the connecting door. Panicky, she pushed it the wrong way.

“Damn you, Ashley! Open it!” Tara hissed.

“I’m trying!”

“Someone’s coming in.”

“I know!”

“We’re going to get caught!”

“We’ll talk our way out of it.”

“Talk our way out of it! Ashley—you’re dressed. I’m wearing a towel! I swear I’m going to kill you if whoever is in this cabin doesn’t decide to shoot us both!”

“It’s going to be all right—”

“Ashley! Don’t you ever listen? I don’t even have any clothes on!”

Someone—a male someone—cleared his throat behind them.

Guilty as sin, they spun around—just as Rafe Tyler spoke, leaning back comfortably against the wall, watching them with golden amusement.

“I rather like you that way myself. Ashley, what do you think? George Galliard would be horrified, of course, but Tara has such a wonderful way with a towel, she could probably pass one off as his latest in casual wear.”

“Oh!” Ashley breathed, and she was so relieved that she started to laugh nervously.

Tara wasn’t amused at all. She was horrified, confused—and frightened.

The way that he was looking at her…

“What are you doing here?” she snapped.

“That should be my question. After all, ladies, this is my cabin.”

“Oh, yes, of course, we’re so sorry—” Ashley began.

“What are you doing on this cruise!” Tara interrupted. “I specifically told you not to come!”

He arched a brow. “You told me? This is a cruise ship—a public cruise ship. Not your private property.”

“The door wasn’t locked.” Ashley began to offer excuses, smiling away. “And it just seemed so intriguing. Come on, Rafe, you understand. A woman’s curiosity and all that—”

“I don’t want to see you,” Tara interrupted again.

He lifted a hand. “This is my cabin,” he reminded her.

Ashley looked from one of them to the other. “Listen, I really think I should be going now—”

“Ashley, stay!” Tara commanded.

“Ashley, I would like to speak with Tara alone.”

“Don’t you dare leave me standing here alone with him in nothing but a towel!”

“Tara, come on!” Ashley pleaded. “Be serious! Let me out of this. I mean, after all, the man has seen you in much less than a towel—oops, I mean—oh, please! Let me out!”

She tugged furiously at the door, which still didn’t give. Rafe started toward them. Tara clutched her towel and backed away. Ashley smiled nervously and stepped aside.

Rafe twisted the knob—and the door obediently opened without a sound.

“Thank God!” Ashley breathed a sigh of relief and whisked through.

Tara tried to follow her. The door closed before she could do so.

She backed away from him, staring, trying to remain calm. Trying to remain…unaffected.

It wasn’t easy; she had fallen in love with him. She should have thought she was in seventh heaven, on a ship with him, sailing away into the horizon, alone, laughing, touching…

But love was a frightening emotion—just as he could be a frightening man. A tiger in the jungle, with golden eyes that seemed to see everything and betray nothing.

“Let me out of here, Rafe,” she said flatly.

“Tara—”

“I don’t want to discuss it. I told you why I needed to get away, but you’re here anyway. You’re right—if you managed to book on the cruise, I have no right to want you off. But I don’t need to be near you, either. So if you’ll excuse me…”

“Tara, damn you!” he said irritably. “I’m here because I love you.”

“If you meant that, you’d have given me the time I asked for.”

“Tara—”

“Let me out of here! Please!” Her voice rose in desperation. She didn’t dare give in; if he touched her, she would be lost. She would be with him again, and she would forget that she had been burned badly once, that there were still several good reasons why she shouldn’t trust him.

He moved, opening the door for her. She wanted to rush past him, but she stood still, because she would have to touch him, brush by his windbreaker, to reach the sanctuary of her own cabin.

Sanctuary!