Tiger Eyes. Robyn Donald

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Tiger Eyes - Robyn Donald

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could smell the faint but unmistakable tang of male, feel the hard, masculine contours against her.

      She sagged, her slight body trembling. Instantly his arms contracted even further.

      Through the ringing in her ears she dimly heard laughter and scattered applause, and then she was being picked up and he was carrying her through the door. She lifted weighted eyelids to stare witlessly at austere features emphasised by the taut skin across his cheekbones, an implacable mouth curved into a mocking smile.

      When at last he stopped, she sputtered, ‘I’ll kill you,’ scarlet with temper and humiliation and confusion. Furious with him for doing such a thing, she was even more incensed with herself for responding so violently.

      He set her on her feet. The amusement had gone from his face, leaving it tough and forceful. ‘Don’t ever dare me again,’ he said calmly.

      ‘I was not—’ Tansy’s hands clenched into small but serviceable fists.

      ‘Oh, yes, you were.’ There was a note beneath the cool insolence of his reply that stopped her from erupting into a tantrum. ‘I don’t take kindly to being manipulated.’

      With colour still stinging her skin, she stepped back, making a sudden grab at her beret. That unrestrained embrace had knocked it askew, and now the wind levered it the last few centimetres and carried it triumphantly off. Freed at last, her hair sprang out around her head in wild, defiant exuberance.

      She seized a couple of handfuls and dragged it back from her face, saying violently, ‘See what you’ve done!’

      ‘What amazing hair,’ he said in a constricted voice. Two vertical lines appeared between his brows as he scrutinised her. ‘It crackles. Why do you keep it covered all the time?’

      ‘Because idiots like you feel obliged to comment on it,’ she snapped.

      He grinned. ‘It’s hardly Titian red, is it?’

      ‘No, it’s ginger. Honest, unromantic, down-to-earth ginger. Why are we talking about my hair?’

      It came out as a disconcerted wail. His gaze seemed to hold nothing but appreciation; it was as though those moments in the kiosk when he had kissed her had never happened. Except, she thought dazedly, a residue of the sensations his roving eyes and that firm, far too knowledgeable mouth had roused in her still seethed through every cell in her body, potent as cheap wine and just as bad for her.

      ‘It’s rather difficult not to talk about it the first time you see it uncaged,’ he said, his eyes still fixed on the riotous mass. ‘It appears to have a personality of its own.’

      She flared, ‘Don’t you make fun of me.’

      ‘Tansy,’ he said with such relaxed assurance that she almost believed him, ‘that is the most glorious head of hair I have ever seen. I swear I’m not making fun of you.’

      Her astonished eyes searched his face, finding nothing but a bewildering sincerity. The anger and excitement and tension faded, leaving her flat in the aftermath of an adrenalin rush. ‘You’ve got peculiar tastes,’ she grumbled, looking around for her beret.

      It was snagged on a rose bush. Jerking it free, Leo said lightly, ‘I should throw the damned thing away. It’s a crime to keep hair like that covered.’

      ‘Don’t you dare.’ She almost snatched it from his hand, jamming it on to her head with defiant irritation, this time directed at herself. She had no idea what was happening to her, but she had the ominous feeling it was not going to be pleasant, and she wanted nothing more than to get out of there and away, back to her own life.

      ‘Come on,’ he commanded.

      Tansy scowled suspiciously through her lashes.

      ‘I’ll take you home,’ he explained with the patient tolerance of an uncle for a rather dimwitted niece.

      More than anything Tansy would have liked to tell him to go to hell, but she wasn’t in the business of cutting off her nose to spite her face. He had brought her here; he could do the decent thing and take her home.

      ‘Very well,’ she said ungraciously.

      He didn’t speak until he had pulled up outside her flat. Then, when she went to open the car door he said absently, ‘It’s locked. Tansy, listen to me. I can see I’ve handled this all wrong. Will you come to dinner with me tonight and let me explain about Rick, and why I need to know where he is?’

      Tension stiffened her jaw. ‘You’ve already done that and it doesn’t make any difference,’ she told him. ‘I can’t help you.’

      His mouth compressed, but he said in the same moderate voice, ‘At least listen to me.’

      ‘All right.’ Her lashes flew up in shock. She didn’t intend to say that! A swift look at his hard, handsome face made her heart give a flip. Dicing with the devil was dangerous business.

      ‘Good,’ he said immediately, before she could take the words back. He did something on the dashboard and said, ‘The door’s open now. I’ll pick you up at seven.’

      ‘I’ve changed my mind,’ she said.

      He grinned. ‘Tough.’

      Tansy’s face sharpened. She looked him straight in his alien’s eyes and said calmly, ‘Don’t threaten me.’

      ‘I’m not threatening you,’ he said, sounding odiously reasonable. ‘If you haven’t got any suitable clothes, don’t worry. I’ll bring dinner with me.’

      Oh, but he was clever. Tiny flakes of apricot heated her cheekbones. Chin jutting, her eyes steady, she said, ‘Don’t bother. I won’t be here.’

      ‘Then I’ll come in now.’

      Although he was smiling, Tansy sensed an unyielding determination to have his own way. He was going to say his piece sooner or later: accepting that, she accepted that it might as well be said on neutral ground.

      Not that the kiosk at the rose gardens had inhibited him at all! However, if they went out to dinner he couldn’t let slip the leash of his temper when she still refused to tell him where Rick was.

      And although she didn’t dare admit it, he fascinated her. When she was with him she felt more alive than she ever had before.

      She said offhandedly, ‘Oh, don’t bother, I’ll go out with you tonight. I can see I’m not going to get any peace until I do. But McDonald’s will be all right. I haven’t any formal clothes.’

      His smile was twisted. ‘Wear what you’ve got on now, except for that beret. People won’t be looking at your clothes when they can see your hair.’

      She shot him a last, fulminating glare, then got out of the car, slamming the door behind her. Unfortunately, it closed with the kind of solid heaviness that indicated excellent engineering and no damage done. Ignoring his laughter, Tansy stalked up the steps to her flat, her back held so stiffly her shoulders started to ache. Even safely inside she couldn’t relax until the car moved away.

      She did have formal clothes, of a sort. When the music department at

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