the eye of the tiger Read online

  She bit her lip. If. How long did it take a dream to die? she wondered sadly. Hers had lasted too long already.

  Eleanor returned to the reality of applause all around as Wade bowed to her and led her off the dance floor. She held tight to his hand, vaguely aware of Keegan's blue eyes watching. Always watching. Why did he stare at her so? she wondered. Was it guilt?

  "That was nice," she told Wade.

  "I thought so, too. You're magic." He bent and brushed a kiss across her forehead. Across the room, a redheaded man clenched his fists and looked as if he could do murder.

  When some of the other guests discovered that Eleanor was a nurse, she found herself much in demand to answer medical questions, none of which she felt qualified to address. She learned to excuse herself before things got too complex, and she never lacked for partners. But inevitably Keegan claimed her for a dance, and the evening turned dark.

  "Having fun?" he asked dryly. "You do seem to be the center of attention."

  "I'm having a lovely time," she replied. "Are you?" she added with a glance at his young partner, who was dancing with an older man and smiling at him radiantly.

  "Yes, I am, as a matter of fact," he replied. "She's a sweet girl. Generous and kind and beautiful."

  "Not your usual choice, but we all like a change, don't we?" she taunted.

  He looked down at her possessively, his eyes charming hers as he pulled her closer, letting her feel his strength as he turned her expertly to a slow box step. "What do you know about my usual choices?" he asked. "You make a science out of trying to avoid me."

  "Do I?" she asked with a carefully blank expression. "I hadn't noticed."

  His eyes searched her body possessively, and the strong hand holding hers contracted a little; subtly his fingers eased between hers so that his palm meshed with her own. Her heart jumped, and his other hand felt it because it had snaked around her waist and was resting just underneath her breast.

  "Not quite immune yet, Eleanor?" he asked, searching her dark eyes, her parted lips.

  "I've been dancing, haven't you noticed?" she hedged.

  "I've noticed you all night, and you know it. This dress is pure witchery. Where did you get it?"

  She smiled. "From the Salvation Army. Isn't it nice?"

  He drew in an irritated breath and turned her quickly, so she almost lost her balance. She felt his body intimately in the turn and put a little distance between them.

  "Stop fighting me," he muttered.

  "Am I?" She looked up into his eyes lazily. "I thought you were reminding me of my place. Do you think this scene is a little too grand for your carpenter's daughter, Mr. Taber, sir?"

  ' 'Have you been drinking?'' he demanded.

  "Just an itty-bitty glass of champagne, boss. Not to worry," she mocked.

  "I do worry," he said beneath his breath. He studied her face quietly as the music flowed around them. "Wade isn't the marrying kind, and you are."

  "What difference does that make?" she asked, shrugging. "You know yourself that men only sleep with the carpenter's daughter, they don't marry her...."

  "Eleanor, hush!" he hissed, glancing around to make sure no one had heard her.

  "Why?" she asked. "Are you worried that someone might suspect you of playing around with the hired help?" she whispered conspiratorially. "God forbid!"

  "Eleanor...!"

  "I never knew until then that I had so much in common with the downstairs maid. Isn't that whom the master of the house usually seduces?" she asked, wide-eyed.

  "Oh, for God's sake!" he burst out in helpless frustration. "Can't we have a normal conversation without sex coming into it?"

  "Look who's talking!" she returned, stopping in the middle of the dance floor. ' 'And I don't want to have any normal conversations with you. You're the only man I know who could probably talk a woman pregnant!"

  He chuckled softly as he gazed at her, his eyes so warm they took the chill of the room off her. "We could try that, I suppose. How about coming with me on a picnic tomorrow?"

  The invitation shocked her, but she kept it from showing. So he was trying to help history repeat itself, was he? Well, he wasn't manipulating her into any tight corners again.

  She smiled and shook her head. "Thanks, but Wade and I are going sailing tomorrow. He has a sailboat."

  The hand holding hers contracted. "He's on the make, you little fool; can't you see it? He doesn't give a damn for you or your feelings. He only wants to get you into bed!"

  "Just like you did?" she probed.

  He glared back at her. "You're not in his class," he began.

  Her eyes widened and she smiled coldly. "Thanks a lot for reminding me. I'm not in yours, either, though, am I? Isn't it beneath you, asking the carpenter's daughter on picnics?"

  He looked suddenly dangerous, those blue eyes glittering down at her through narrowed lids. Sensing explosions, she pulled out of his arms, regardless of the puzzled glances it brought, and went back to Wade as fast as she could walk. He was waiting, a faint smile on his dark face.

  "Have a problem?" he asked amusedly, glancing past her to a glowering, blazing Keegan Taber.

  "Not anymore, thanks," she replied. She smiled up at him dazzlingly. "Would you like to dance with me?"

  "Honey chile, I'd love to," he drawled, and drew her lazily into his arms. "But do you think it's quite safe?" he added, nodding toward Keegan.

  "Mr. Taber and I just had a minor difference of opinion," she said sweetly.

  "It looks like he just got punched in the ego to me," Wade said conversationally. "You really don't like him, do you?''

  "I like flies better than I like him," she muttered, glaring at Keegan. "Conceited ape!"

  Keegan must have read her lips, because he turned suddenly and went back to the Irish girl, appropriating her from her current partner with noticeable flair.

  "Just look at him," Eleanor glowered, "taking women away from other men, making passes at everything in skirts...."

  "He's quite popular with the ladies," Wade observed. "I'm surprised you're able to resist his charm so easily."

  If only he knew! "I've known him for years," she said shortly. "He's always around the house these days, talking to my father."

  "And playing chess?" Wade ventured. He cocked his head and studied her while they danced. "Does he really come to play chess, or to chance his arm with you?"

  "He'd get his arm broken for him if he tried to put it around me," she returned curtly. "And can we talk about something else? You're ruining my appetite."

  "Oh, gladly," he murmured, and whirled her around the floor with a smug expression that wasn't lost on the tall, handsome redhead with the stunning brunette in his arms.

  Four

  Wade kept his sailboat in a slip at die marina on Cave Run Lake. It was a beautiful area, in the Daniel Boone National Forest, and there were hiking trails and a skylift in the forest area. It was late spring, almost summer, and the woods were filled with picnickers and fishermen and hikers. Eleanor stared after them a little wistfully as Wade led the way to his slip at the sprawling marina. She liked boats but knew little about mem. Her tastes leaned much more toward fishing and walking in the woods than toward water sports. It was another of me big differences between Wade's life-style and her own, but perhaps she could adjust.

  He looked handsome in his white slacks and navy pullover shirt, not a bad-looking man at all. She glanced ruefully at her jeans and multicolored knit shirt. She hoped she was properly dressed for sailing. She'd remembered the tennis shoes he told her to wear, but he hadn't specified what kind of clothes to wear. She sincerely hoped he didn't have any ideas about taking her to an exclusive restaurant dressed like this.

  "We have a budding sailing fraternity here," he was telling her, glancing over his shoulder with a smile. "In October we have the Grand Annual Regatta. You'll have to come with me this year," he added, taking it for granted that theirs was going to be a long-term relationship. Eleanor beamed.

/>   "Is it all sailing?" she asked innocently. "Mostly," he replied. "It's the first weekend in October, and starts out with around-the-course racing the first day, with a big dinner that night and another race the second day. There's an open regatta for all classes."

  "Do a lot of people from Lexington race in it?'' she asked.

  He grinned at her. "Darling, it's only a short drive from the city. Even shorter from where we live, outside the city. In fact, the Tabers have a slip here, and Keegan and Gene won their class in the regatta last October."

  Her face colored. She knew that Keegan loved sailing, but she hadn't remembered that he kept his sailboat here, or that his father raced with him. It was the kind of thing that Gene Taber would do, though. Like his son, he had a reckless streak. It was one of the first things she'd admired about Keegan, that recklessness.

  "Speak of the devil," Wade muttered, staring past her just as they reached his slip.

  She half turned and found Keegan Taber walking casually along the marina, as if he spent every day there and was right at home.

  "Hello, Wade!" he called with a friendly wave. "You have a call at the desk. I told them I'd relay it, since I was on my way to my own slip."

  Wade sighed. "I might have known. You can't ever get away from work, not as long as there are telephones anywhere on the planet."

  "Wait until the cellular phones catch on," Keegan said with a grin.

  "God forbid! Be right back, darling. Thanks, Keegan."

  "Sure." Keegan stuck his hands in his pockets. "I'll watch out for Eleanor until you get back."

  Eleanor glared at Keegan as Wade disappeared into the marina office. He looked as casual as she did, in jeans and a yellow knit shirt, and in deck shoes he didn't tower over her as much as usual. The boots he wore around the farm gave him even more height. The wind was blowing his red hair around, disrupting its slightly wavy perfection, and against his deep tan the white flash of his teeth was even more attractive. The wind was behind him, blowing the heady scent of his after-shave into her nostrils, drowning her in its masculine lure.

  "What are you doing here?" she asked.

  "The same as you. Enjoying myself."

  "Aren't you a little far from home and your houseguest?"

  His eyebrows lifted. "Which houseguest?"

  "The one with the figure," she returned, smiling coolly.

  "The one with the figure is on a tour of local farms with my father and her father," he replied.

  "And you didn't want to go, too?"

  His blue eyes twinkled at her. "I work hard enough during the week that I like having Sundays off." He chuckled.

  She lowered her eyes to his throat, where fine red hairs peeked out. She remembered that his chest was covered with that softly abrasive hair, and her face colored because of the intimacy that memory involved. She wrapped her arms around herself protectively and stared toward the marina office.

  "He won't save you, you know," he remarked. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "That sounded like his housekeeper Mildred to me. And she'd never bother him on a date unless it was an emergency."

  "He won't go home," she said. "We're going sailing."

  "Want to bet?"

  She looked up at him, her eyes narrowed. ' 'Not with a renegade like you," she replied. "You stack the deck."

  He smiled, and little thrills raced through her body. She was still vulnerable, and she hated it. Four years should have given her some immunity. In fact, it had only fanned the flame, made her hungry for the sight of him.

  Her eyes met his, and she felt her toes curling under at the pleasure of the exchange. The hand holding his cigarette froze in midair, and suddenly his smile was gone. She sensed his abrupt rigidity and felt it reflected in her own posture. At that moment she wanted nothing quite so desperately as to reach up and kiss that warm, hard mouth.

  "Dangerous, baby, looking at me like that in public," Keegan said in a tone she'd never heard him use. He smiled faintly, but it did nothing to disguise the flare of hunger in his eyes.

  Before she could answer him, and while she was still trying to get her heart to stop racing, Wade rejoined them. He was frowning, his mind already on business.

  "I'm sorry as hell, but I've got a European businessman sitting on my front porch drinking my best bourbon and just dying to give me gobs of money for a foal." He sighed. He grinned at Eleanor and Keegan, ignoring the tension. "I'm sorry, darling, but I'm so mercenary..."

  She burst out laughing. "It's all right. If you'll drop me off..."

  "I'll let her ride home with me," Keegan interrupted, lifting the cigarette to his lips. "Then you won't have to go out of your way."

  Wade and Eleanor both started to protest, but they weren't as quick as Keegan. He took Eleanor firmly by the arm.

  "Come on, I have to pick up some papers from the boat first. See you, Wade!"

  Wade faltered. "Well...Eleanor, I'll call you tonight!"

  "Yes...do!" she called over her shoulder, half running to keep up with Keegan's long strides. She scowled up at him as he propelled her down the marina. "No wonder you have your own boat; you're a pirate! You can't just appropriate unwilling passengers!"

  "You're willing," he replied without looking at her. "At least you will be when I show you what I've got in the boat."

  She sighed. "Does it bite?"

  "It used to," he murmured, grinning. He helped her onto the polished deck of the big sailboat, its huge sails neatly wrapped and tied, and went below for a minute. He was back almost before she missed him, with a picnic basket in hand.

  "How...what...?" she stammered.

  "I had Mary June pack it this morning for us," he said. He helped her back off the boat. "We can drive down to the picnic area and gorge ourselves. I didn't have breakfast. I'm starving."

  Her mind was whirling. "You couldn't have known Wade was going to have company."

  "Sure I did. I sent it over, as a matter of fact," he said imperturbably, herding her right along.

  Her jaw dropped. "Your Irish guests!"

  "Dead straight," he agreed, grinning broadly. "And he'd better hurry home, too, or O'Clancy will have persuaded Mildred to go home with him to Ireland. That man could get funding from Congress for a fruitfly-mating program. I've never seen the beat."

  "You set me up!" she groaned.

  "It's your own fault," he replied. He led her to his bright-red Porsche and put her in on the passenger side. "You wouldn't come with me when I invited you."

  "I didn't want to! I still don't!"

  He got in beside her and, flashing a dazzling smile, started up the little convertible. "Mary June's got roast beef and potato salad and homemade yeast rolls in the basket," he coaxed. "And she made fried apple pies for dessert."

  She glanced at him mutinously. "I'll get fat."

  "Is there hope?" he asked wide-eyed. "You've lost ten pounds since you came back home, and you were never heavy to start with."

  "I like me the way I am," she fired back.

  "I'll like you better twenty pounds heavier," he replied. "There. That looks like a nice, private spot." He pulled into a parking space in the deserted picnic area and cut off the engine. "Nice view. No people." He stared at her musingly. "You could make love to me if you wanted to."

  The unexpected remark made her grow hot all over. She practically dived out of the car, avoiding his eyes.

  He brought the picnic basket and bypassed the tables. "This looks good," he remarked, scanning the area. He put the basket down under a huge oak tree overlooking the lake. Far away, the white and multicolored sails spread like tiny map indicators over the blue, blue water. "We can eat and watch the competition all at once."

  She sat down reluctantly in the pleasant shade, watching him spread the cloth and lay out the food. It did look delicious, and she knew Mary June's reputation as a cook. She and her father had been invited to barbecues and other special events that the Tabers hosted annually for their employees on the farm, and she'd tasted the hous
ekeeper's cooking many times. Mary June was something of a family institution. Like her father, a treasured employee. The thought made her feel bitter, and she sighed, staring down at her hands in her lap.

  "Don't curdle the dessert by glaring at it," he teased. "Eat something!"

  He handed her a plate and busied himself pouring sweetened iced tea into plastic glasses from a huge jug that contained crushed ice.

  She held out her hand for it and sipped the cool liquid with a dreamy smile. "How delicious!"

  "I'm partial to it myself." He filled a plate for her, handing it over and ignoring her dubious expression as he filled another for himself. "Nothing like a picnic to make you hungry, I always say. Eat, for God's sake, Eleanor!"

  Her dark eyes pinned him. "Must you always sling out orders? Can't you ever just ask?"

  "Not my nature," he said between bites of beef. He sipped tea and watched her for a minute as she began to eat.

  "No, that's true," she said after she cleared her plate. "You're a born manipulator. You're only happy when you get your own way."

  "Aren't most people?" he asked. He put the plates aside and refilled her glass and his own with iced tea. Then he sprawled back comfortably against the huge tree trunk and crossed his long legs with a sigh. He looked as at ease here as he did at a formal party. Keegan never put on airs or lorded it over anyone. He seemed at home anywhere.

  Eleanor sipped her tea, looking out over the lake. "I've never been here before," she remarked. "Dad and I drove past it on our way to see one of my great-aunts once, but we never stopped. We always go fishing on the river."

  "There's a lot of bass and crappie in this lake," he replied, smiling. "So you like to fish, do you?"