the eye of the tiger Read online

  "Well, I never." Mrs. Granger grimaced. "Just when we find a really suitable candidate, she turns out to be a career girl. What's wrong with my son? Isn't he good enough for you?" she demanded.

  "He's wonderful," Eleanor said genuinely. "And I wish I'd met him years ago. But he deserves a woman who can love him to pieces, and I can't."

  "It's all your fault," Sandra told her mother. "If you hadn't attacked her the minute she walked onto the property..."

  Mrs. Granger actually blushed. "It's the kind of women he usually brings here," she confessed miserably. "And, well, there were some rumors about you a few years ago...." She blushed even more.

  Eleanor had to bite her tongue to keep from responding defensively. "What kind of rumors?" she asked as politely as she could.

  "About you and Keegan Taber," Sandra said quietly. "Lorraine was putting it around that you were the reason she broke her engagement to Keegan. She accused him of having an affair with you."

  "But that's not true!" Eleanor exclaimed. And it wasn't. Yes, she'd been tricked into his bed, but one indiscretion hardly constituted an affair. "Keegan took me out one time to make her jealous. It worked; they got engaged the next day, and I left for nurse's training in Louisville that same week. That's all there was to it."

  Mrs. Granger smiled sadly. "I'm very sorry. I don't know you, you see, or I wouldn't have believed the rumor. Mothers are very protective about their sons. Perhaps too protective in my case. Wade has very poor insight into character as a rule. Although," she added, "I'll be the first to admit that I have no quarrel with his choice this time." She offered Eleanor a platter of cheese appetizers. "Do have some. And wouldn't you really like to marry my son?"

  "We'll arrange everything," Sandra added with a grin. "All you'll have to do is stand in church and say two words. We'll take care of the rest."

  Eleanor laughed softly. Talk about wrong first impressions, she thought. Gradually, as the conversation eased to other topics, she got to know Wade's family. And what a delightful duo they were, nothing like they'd seemed at first. By the time Wade returned, she felt as if she'd known them for years.

  "Is your scalp still in place, darling?" Wade teased Eleanor.

  "Not a hair disturbed," she responded gaily. "These two are pretty nice, for rich people, that is," she added with a mischievous grin at the pair sitting with her.

  "And she's not half bad—for a career girl, that is," Sandra declared. "We're trying to talk her into marrying you and taking you off our hands."

  Wade actually flushed. "Now, see here...!" he began hotly.

  "Oh, it's all right. I refused," Eleanor assured him. "You're perfectly safe."

  "Whew!" He wiped a hand across his forehead. "And there I was, fearing for my freedom!" He smiled back at her. "Actually, I wouldn't mind marrying you, you know."

  "Yes, you would. I snore and I can't bake cakes."

  "You could hire a cook," Mrs. Granger interjected, shaking a finger at her son. "Don't take no for an answer, boy!"

  "Yes, ma'am," he replied, helping Eleanor to her feet. "Now you've got to marry me," he told her. "Mother has spoken."

  "Mother will be yelling shortly if we don't circulate," Sandra sighed, rising gracefully. "Can I bring you a fan, darling?" she asked her mother.

  "Some ice would be lovely," came the reply. "Wade, introduce Eleanor to that Arab prince, she can't miss that!"

  "Yes, dear."

  "See you later," Eleanor called over her shoulder as Wade took her hand and guided her toward the punch bowl. "I like your mother and sister," she said after a minute.

  "I'm glad, especially after the way Mother came on at first." He shuddered. "I could have dropped through the ground. She isn't a snob, you know, not really. She just..."

  "She explained it to me," she replied quietly, cringing inwardly at the reason Mrs. Granger had given for her behavior. She'd never known about the rumors; her father had never said anything. Of course, he didn't travel in these circles, either....

  How terrible for Keegan, that his attempt to make Lorraine jealous should have ended in such a way. But why had she waited two months to break the engagement and then accuse Eleanor of having an affair with Keegan? That didn't make sense. Most of all, why didn't Keegan bear a grudge? He had good reason to, even though he'd started it all. Losing Lorraine must have hurt him deeply, especially since his date with Eleanor had apparently been the cause of his broken engagement. Poor Keegan. His manipulations had damaged two lives—his own as well as Eleanor's.

  "She told you about the rumor, I gather," he said without looking at her.

  Her eyes darted up to his set features. "You know?"

  He looked down at her. "Yes. It was all over Lexington, thanks to Lorraine. She was rabid about losing him."

  "But she broke the engagement," she faltered.

  "Yes, that's what people think. But I know Keegan, and I knew Lorraine. And I promise you, she didn't do the casting off. He did."

  That was a shock, but then, it had been a day for them. She bit her lower lip thoughtfully as they walked. "Why?"

  He locked her fingers in his. "Maybe bis conscience was bothering him, Eleanor," he said gently. "He treated you pretty shabbily." She shifted in his grip. "You seem to know a lot about it."

  "You don't remember, but I was at the Crescent Club the night Keegan took you there," he said. "I'd seen him in action before, and I saw the way you looked at him." He studied her fingers while she trembled inwardly. "At a guess, darling, I'd say he seduced you that night."

  Her face went paper white, and when he saw it all the puzzle pieces fell into place.

  He said something under his breath, and his dark eyes grew stormy. "So I guessed, did I? And it backfired, for all his manipulations. He got what he thought he wanted, only to find that Lorraine was as brittle as glass and just as cutting. She wanted his wealth, not him. Everyone knew, except Keegan. He was blinded by what he felt for her. But it didn't take him long to sort her out, and I'd bet it was what he did to you that opened his eyes. He never quite got over it. He's hardly even dated in the years since then. He has something of a reputation these days for leading a quiet life. The old playboy image is well and truly gone."

  Keegan himself had mentioned something like that, but she'd only half heard him. She couldn't look at Wade. It was too embarrassing to have him guess what had happened.

  He seemed to sense that. He touched her cheek lightly and coaxed her eyes up to his. "Don't worry. It's our secret. I'd never tell another soul."

  She relaxed a little. "It was all over a long time ago," she said. "I have a few emotional scars, but I'm not carrying any torches."

  "So you keep saying. But when you look at him, there's such a hunger in your eyes, Eleanor. You look at him as if you'd die to have him." He smiled gently. "And if he ever catches that look, darling, you're dead. Because he's doing some looking of his own."

  "Conscience," she said tightly.

  "Perhaps. Perhaps not." He pursed his lips, studying her flushed face. "Keegan's spent most of his life manipulating people. So suppose we manipulate him for a change?"

  She stared at him blankly. "What?"

  "Let's manipulate him. I'll take you in hand and teach you how to be a society belle. We'll go everywhere together, become what's known as 'an item.' We'll haunt his favorite restaurant, be seen at the marina, we'll do everything but announce future plans, and watch him sweat."

  "He won't..." she began.

  "I'll bet you a tuna fish casserole that he will," he returned.

  "Tuna fish casserole?" She groaned. "Ugh! I hate them!"

  "So do I, and the loser has to eat the horrible thing," he declared. "Is it a deal?"

  She hesitated. "Why do you want to do this for me?"

  "Because I like you, darling," he said gently, and smiled at her. "I'd love to marry you and take care of you all my life, but since you haven't a heart to offer me, I'll help you find what you want."

  "And what do I want?" sh
e mused.

  "Oh, revenge," he said absently. "Maybe a little fulfillment. Whatever. Come on, Ellie. Let's give it a shot. Mother and Sandra will help. Look upon it as a project."

  "Well..." She hesitated. It did have possibilities, however, and it could be fun. She smiled. "Okay."

  "Good girl." He kissed her cheek. "Come and meet the Arab prince, and then we'll explore some of the more wearing social graces."

  "Lead on," she said. "I'll follow." She only hoped she wasn't following him into quicksand. It might be fun to manipulate Keegan a little, but she didn't want to get caught in the middle. Once was enough.

  Seven

  "Well , well, look who's visiting," Wade chuckled as he pulled up in front of Eleanor's door late that afternoon.

  Eleanor glanced at the red Porsche, a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Oh, for heaven's sake," she grumbled.

  "And he wasn't interested, I believe you said?" he teased. "Funny, I'd call this hot pursuit, myself."

  "Care to come in and have coffee?" she asked hopefully.

  "I'd love to," he sighed, "but my dad is flying in from Greece. I have to meet him at the airport at five, which it almost is now. I'm sorry he didn't get to meet you. We hoped he'd make it home in time for the party."

  "Some other time," she replied, and grimaced. "I don't want to go in there," she moaned.

  "Chin up, girl," he said. "Remember—he's the victim this time, not you. Now get in mere and tell him what a wonderful person I am, and how much you love my family, and how close I came to proposing! Lay it on thick. Spread it like butter."

  She studied him. "Ever think of coaching a professional football team?" she asked.

  "I sure have, but I'll settle for you right now. Come here, I see me curtains fluttering," he murmured with a grin. He pulled her close and kissed her warmly, smiling against her lips. "Nice." He laughed. "Like eating cotton candy. Now get in there and give him a taste of his own medicine."

  "Yes, sir." She kissed him back, lightly, and got out of the car. "Do I look disheveled enough?"

  "You look delicious," he said wistfully. "Oh, well, I'll go back to my cinders and ashes."

  "Have you ever thought about having a glass boot made?" she asked. "You could give a party, and drop it...."

  "I am leaving," he returned with mock indignation.

  "A few white mice and a pumpkin might be a good idea, too," she added as he put the car in gear.

  "I'll show you white mice and pumpkins, just wait," he threatened. He held up his hand. "Call you tomorrow."

  "Good night. Thanks for inviting me, I enjoyed it."

  "Me, too, honey. Bye!"

  She watched him drive away, feeling wistful. He was such a nice man. It was too bad her heart belonged to that freckled redhead waiting in her house.

  She turned, purse in hand, and went inside. Her father and Keegan were sitting in the living room, apparently just talking. Keegan was still wearing work clothes, and he looked as if he'd been out with his horses. He liked to work with the trainer occasionally, and in his younger days he'd participated in show jumping and polo. He was an expert rider.

  "Hello, dear, how was the party?" Barnett asked, smiling as his daughter came into the room.

  "Just lovely," she said with an exaggerated sigh. "I love Wade's mother and sister. They're so sweet."

  Keegan cocked his unruly red head at her. "You do mean Gladys the gladiator and Sandra the snake?" he asked.

  "Shame on you for calling them names," she chided. "They're terrific people."

  Keegan leaned back against the seat. "Wade must have threatened to write his life story," he murmured. His deep blue eyes traveled over her slender body in the becoming white-and-purple dress. "I like that," he remarked. "The style is very becoming."

  "Wade thought so, too,'' she said with a demure smile. "I'll get changed and start dinner, Dad." She glanced at Keegan. "Are you staying?"

  "Are you inviting me?" he countered, his voice velvety and deep.

  "You're the boss," she reminded him, watching his expression change. "I can hardly order you out of a house you own, can I?''

  "Eleanor," Barnett groaned.

  "Will you stop that?" Keegan growled.

  "Okay. You're welcome to stay for dinner, Keegan, dear," she said with a faint smile. "I do hope you like broccoli and liver, because that's what I'm fixing."

  "Darling, you know Keegan hates broccoli and liver," Barnett protested.

  "I'm reforming," Keegan said through clenched teeth. "I love Uver and broccoli."

  Eleanor went down the hall to her room with revenge in her heart and a smile on her lips.

  She changed into worn jeans and a loose patterned blouse that had seen better days. She didn't bother to brash her hair or fix her makeup, and she left her shoes off. That would show Keegan Taber that she didn't care what he thought of her appearance.

  Bypassing the living room where the men were talking, she went straight to the kitchen and busied herself with getting the meal together. Odd, she thought, how much time Keegan seemed to be spending here lately. Whatever did he and her father find to talk about?

  It only took about half an hour to get dinner ready. Eleanor called the men and poured tall glasses of iced tea for the three of them. Keegan was quiet at the table, very reserved. But his blue eyes followed Eleanor as she moved around the kitchen between courses, pouring more tea, bringing dessert, moving serving dishes to the sink. His intent scrutiny began to wear on her nerves after a while, and she was glad when it was over and the men returned to the living room to play chess.

  She washed the dishes, then slipped on an old pair of loafers to go walking behind the house. Their small yard overlooked the vast acreage of the farm, and from the wooden fence under the oak trees out back, she could watch silky racehorses prance around arrogantly in their paddocks. She loved to watch them move: they were so graceful, so much a part of her childhood. Like this house where she was born, where her mother and father had lived all her life. Like... Keegan.

  She was barely aware of the footsteps behind her. She didn't turn, because she knew his steps as well as she knew her own. She didn't have to look to know that it was Keegan.

  He came close behind her and stopped. "Why are you hiding out here?'' he asked softly.

  She shrugged, folding her arms over her breasts and smiling faintly. "Was I hiding?"

  His heavy sigh was audible. He moved beside her, one hand tucked into his belt, the other holding a smoking cigarette. "It seems like it sometimes," he said absentiy.

  "I thought you'd given that up." She nodded toward the cigarette.

  He shrugged. "I keep trying." He lifted it to his thin lips. "How did you like the garden party?"

  "It was very nice," she said. "Lots of people and food and even a band."

  "Gladys likes to give parties," he said. He studied her body in the floppy ensemble. "Is that for my benefit?" he asked quietly.

  "My ensemble?" she asked innocently, spreading her arms. "Actually, I thought it might inflame your passion... Keegan!''

  He caught her with one lean arm, jerking her against the length of his hard body so quickly that she couldn't dodge in time.

  "You inflame me all right," he said curtly. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her lips as he bent toward her. "Shall I let you feel how much?"

  "Will you stop!" she protested. Her heart was beating out of control; he had to be able to feel it as close as he was. Her breasts were crushed against his hard chest in the rough embrace.

  "Make me believe you want me to stop, Eleanor," he said tautly. His eyes darkened as they searched hers. Around them, the sun sprinkled dark leaf patterns on the ground and the breeze ruffled her silky hair. A horse neighed somewhere nearby. And in all that normalcy was this—Keegan holding her with his arm and his eyes, and the rough beat of his heart keeping time with her own.

  "I'm off the market; haven't you heard?" she asked belligerently.

  "I heard," he replied. "I
just don't believe it. Kiss me."

  She averted her face as his descended, and his mouth followed hers. His free hand dropped the cigarette and came up to tangle in her hair and hold her face where he wanted it.

  "Now, fight..." His voice muffled against her lips as he took her mouth with his in a kiss that made her body throb with helpless longing. He knew so well how to do this, how to awaken her deepest hungers.

  She pushed against his chest, but he only tightened his arm.

  "Don't fight me, baby," he whispered as he lifted his head slightly and teased her full lips. "What can I do to you here, with your father right inside the house, hrnrnm?"

  "I don't want this," she whispered brokenly.

  "Don't you?" His fingers moved to caress her breast, then pressed it gently so that he could feel the beating of her heart. "Your heart's going wild, little Ellie. Just like mine. Here. Feel."

  He took her hand and slid it into the open front of his shirt, hearing her sudden intake of breath, feeling the clenching of her fingers against his flesh.

  "Here." He spread her fingers and moved them into the thick thatch of reddish-blond hair, watching her face as he felt the slow, involuntary movements of her long fingers. His heart ached with its hard beating. She aroused him as no other woman ever had.

  "Ellie," he breathed. He brushed his mouth over her forehead, trying to catch his breath while her hands made him shudder. She didn't quite know what to do, he realized, but even that hesitant touching made his knees weak.

  After a moment she put both hands against his chest. The weakness was growing: she could hardly stand up, and she wanted very much to move her legs closer to his. But she knew what would happen if she did, and despite her doubts and suspicion, she didn't want to hurt him.

  He felt so solid and muscular, his skin cool under her searching hands, the thick growth of hair tangling in her fingers. She remembered much too well how that hair had felt against her bare breasts the night he'd made love to her. The memories were so intimate that she could hardly bear them. Even now, his heart was shaking him with its beat, and she remembered that it had been like that the night he'd taken her out.