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

back. She stumbled, because he was pushing Jimmy and Tanya in almost on top of her.

Instinctively, she grabbed for something to hold. A hand came out, steadying her, becoming a vise around her wrist as she sat down, horrified, next to Tine.

For a moment she could only stare at him. He hadn’t changed a bit. He was still trim, sandy-haired, with blue eyes, as handsome as only the all-American boy next door could be, the high school football team quarterback, tanned, broad-shouldered, appealing.

Except that now she knew. Knew that his smile hid a wealth of cruelty. That the glitter in those blue eyes was the glitter of avarice.

He smiled at her, a smile that grew broader and harder as she tried to wrench her hand away.

“I’ve missed you, Tara.”

She didn’t respond; she only returned his gaze coldly while icy trickles of fear skated down her spine.

“Leave her alone, Elliott,” Jimmy said.

Tine chuckled. “Just what will you do, big man?”

“I have the mask—she doesn’t.”

“That’s right. But Tara and I have a few old scores to settle.”

“Where’s Ashley?” she demanded.

“You’ll see her soon. Just sit tight, sweetheart. We’ve got a little drive ahead of us.” His fingers curled around hers. Suddenly he stretched her arm out, catching sight of Rafe’s magnificent diamond—the ring she still couldn’t remove.

All traces of his smile disappeared. “You were going to marry him?”

“I am going to marry him,” Tara lied smoothly.

“Take it off.”

“It doesn’t come off.”

He smiled again. “I’ll see that it comes off,” he promised her. “One way or another.”

Tara lowered her lashes, fighting the temptation to scream with fear and rake her nails across his face. She had to be calm; there was Ashley to remember.

She stared at Jimmy and Tanya, who sat silently, hand in hand.

The limo’s windows were darkly tinted. She had no idea of where they were going, except that they were beginning to climb high into the mountains, and it seemed that the afternoon sun was waning. It would soon be dark.

“Relax, sweetheart,” Tine said softly, slipping an arm around her shoulders. “You really haven’t got anything to worry about—not for a while yet.”

But she did. He was right next to her. Very fit, a strong man, agile and powerful. She had learned that once the hard way. It seemed that every nerve in her body cried out. She couldn’t bear being next to him.

She had no choice.

She closed her eyes, clenched her teeth tightly and prayed for the ride to end—no matter what that end brought.

“Another ten minutes or so and we’ll be home,” Tine said, as if he were addressing a group of old friends. “Home, Tara. Nice, cozy home. Luxurious, intimate.”

She still refused to react, and he laughed, a grating sound that was entirely horrible.

* * *

Rafe returned to the hotel in disgust—not one of the men in the lineup had even remotely resembled the man who had tried to abduct Tara the day before.

The only good thing about the trip had been that he had been able to spend some time with Lieutenant Costello, the one man who had given him a serious hearing when he had attempted to find Jimmy two years before. Of course, by the time that Rafe had realized Jimmy was missing, it had been long after the night on the mountain. The lieutenant had been stunned to hear that the man had actually existed; he’d admitted that they’d suspected Tara Hill of inventing him in a wild bid to exonerate herself. Costello was a good man; Rafe definitely felt more comfortable knowing that the police now believed wholeheartedly that Tine Elliott was alive and well and in their country. Costello assured him that it might take time, but they would find him.

He knew something was wrong as soon as he reached the hallway. He didn’t think the detective would have left—and he knew damn well that Sam would never have voluntarily deserted his post.

He hurried into his room. It was empty; nothing seemed amiss. He rushed to the connecting door, ready to break it down if she didn’t answer him.

He didn’t have to break the door down. It was locked only on his side. And he hadn’t locked it.

He burst through. Tara was gone, and there was no sign of Ashley. The room was neat and clean—no sign of a scuffle, at least.

Trying to remain rational and calm, he started toward the phone to call the police, but he never reached it. The phone was ringing in his own room, and he raced back to answer it.

His hello was anxiously hopeful.

“Rafael Tyler?”

“Who is this?”

“Just listen carefully. I have a number of people you care about here. Your brother. And—”

“My brother!” Jimmy. Jimmy was alive. Rafe had always believe that, but…

Where the hell had he been? Why hadn’t he called, written, let those who loved him know that he was all right? Why in God’s name—

A chuckle interrupted his thoughts.

“Yes, I have him. Your brother. Excuse me—stepbrother. Yes, I have him. It was the strangest thing! I’ve been pulling my hair out for the last two years looking for that boy myself. Seems I did hit him last time. Good hit, right in the head. Erased his memory. He’s been wandering around down here with a native girl all this time—and then Tara shows up and triggers something in the boy’s memory. It all worked out real well. So now I have him—and his Venezuelan girlfriend. I also have a redheaded model and, oh, a lady who we both know and love. The illustrious Tara Hill. Nice rock you gave her, Tyler. And I have a paranoid detective, and an old man.”

“Elliott!” Rafe breathed between his teeth.

“How perceptive, Mr. Tyler.”

“If you touch her, Elliott, you’re a dead man,” Rafe said quietly.

“Well, that rather remains to be seen, doesn’t it? I want the mask, Tyler.”

“I don’t have the damn mask, and you know it.”

“True. But you’re going to get it for me. You and your brother.”

“You can have it. But I not only want