Iris Johansen Read Online Free Page B

sensation of being trapped and held. It was as if the heat and vitality emanating from him were reaching out and enfolding her in a velvet webbing.
    “Sit still,” he ordered tersely, his face darkening in a frown. “I’m sure you’re not generally a fidgeter. You have a tranquility about you that’s very appealing, in this high-powered world we live in.”
    She obediently was still and tried to smile. “I suppose I’m a bit uneasy,” she admitted simply, gazing at him with a steady frankness. “I don’t know what you want from me, Mr. Santine.”
    “I’ll get around to that in time,” he said impatiently. “Right now I want to know all about you. Since you’re a petitioner at my gates, I’d indulge my little whim if I were you.”
    It was a far from subtle threat. The man was obviously used to getting his own way, and for some reason it pleased him to display a curiosity about one Janna Cannon. He was quite right. Under the circumstances she mustn’t antagonize Santine unduly, if simply satisfying his curiosity would placate him.
    “What do you want to know?”
    “Everything,” he said succinctly, leaning back in his chair and regarding her with narrowed eyes. “You can start with your background.”
    She shrugged. “I’m afraid you’ll be quite bored, Mr. Santine. There’s nothing in the least exotic about my life. I was born and raised on a farm in Oklahoma. My mother died when I was three, and my father just before I graduated from high school. My only living relative is my grandmother, who still lives on the farm. I’ve always wanted to work with animals, and I attended the University of Oklahoma, majoring in zoology. I worked my way through school by taking jobs at zoos around the country during the summer and as a veterinarian’s assistant during the school year. After I graduated, I went to work immediately for Dr. Sandler.”
    “Very concise and to the point,” Santine drawled mockingly. “All the facts without really revealing anything about yourself. But then, I rather expected that.” He leaned forward suddenly, startling her. “Because opening up to me would have violated your sense of personal freedom, wouldn’t it, Janna?”
    She felt a little frisson of fear run through her. How had Santine realized that about her in the short time they’d been together? Those dark eyes were fixed on her with catlike intentness, and she had the odd feeling he could see right through the barricade of reserve she’d built around herself. “Noneof us likes to have our privacy invaded,” she said defensively. “I’m sure you don’t yourself, Mr. Santine.”
    “You’re right. I hate it,” he admitted silkily. “But then, I’ve reached a position where I don’t have to stand for it any more, while you’re still vulnerable. Very vulnerable.” He repeated those last words with a thoughtfulness that had a trace of underlying satisfaction in it. He suddenly reached out and touched the curve of her cheek. “You have incredibly beautiful bones,” he commented absently. “Very unusual.”
    “My grandmother is a full-blooded Cherokee Indian,” Janna said quietly, forcing herself to sit still under that curiously gentle touch. It was almost completely impersonal, so why did she feel as if her skin were burning beneath his fingers?
    “Interesting,” Santine said softly, his hand dropping away from her face to linger on the thick, lustrous brown braid that nestled on the curve of her breast. He slowly leaned back once again in his chair. “Then that aversion to captivity is probably inherent, which would only make it stronger. I’m making progress.”
    “Progress?” Janna asked warily, her brown eyes fixed on him with the fear of a gazelle that suddenly senses danger.
    “You’re something of a challenge, Janna,” Santine drawled. “I can’t remember ever being so intrigued with a woman before. I suppose it’s that skittish, wild aura about you that arouses all my aggressive