The Tiger's Lady Read Online Free Page B

spawn. But you, sweet falcon, may call me by a different name.” His voice hardened. “And that is Rajah of Ranapore.”
    Barrett’s breath caught. “But—but that means you’re the one who has come to sell the ruby!”
    The Indian’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know of the Shiva’s Eye?” There was a sudden curtness to his tone.
    “All London speaks of the stone. That was what I saw in the window, was it not?”
    He nodded, his eyes hard.
    “The Eye of Shiva,” she whispered. “It is beautiful beyond describing, but…”
    “But?” One sable brow rose in a questioning slant.
    Barrett hesitated. “But there is danger in its beauty, I think. Perhaps there is always danger in beautiful things. And in this particular stone there is something more. Something that feels almost—evil.” She laughed unsteadily. “You’ll think that foolish of course.”
    “Not I. Nor would anyone who has ever lived in the East. There such powers are understood and rightly feared. Only the fool mocks that which he cannot see or touch.”
    For long moments he studied her shadowed face, engaged in some interior argument. Finally he seemed to reach a decision. “Come with me, Angrezi. I will see that neither jackal nor tiger vexes you. With me you’ll wake to lavender skies and the sound of rushing water. To windblown jasmine and the chatter of restless monkeys every day of your life.”
    Barrett’s teal eyes darkened. It was tempting—far too tempting. But she must not even think of it. Not while her grandfather remained behind to pay the price for her defection.
    She frowned, wishing she could see the man’s features clearly, just once. Her slim fingers opened, tense upon his chest. “I—I cannot. If things were different, perhaps. If I were free…”
    “I see.” It was a flat, cold dismissal. “There is absolutely no need to explain, I assure you.”
    Barrett saw the narrowing of his eyes, the hardness that gripped his jaw. Her hands rose, capturing his cheek, fear of being misunderstood making her bold. “No, you do not see,” she said sharply. “It is not because of who you are, but because of who I am. Because of what I must do. Maybe … oh, maybe when that is done…”
    If it is ever done, a bitter voice mocked. But you know they will never stop. Not until they have all the knowledge you carry hidden in your head.
    “I leave tomorrow,” the rajah said flatly. “You have only this night to decide.”
    “Then…” Barrett’s voice was rough with regret. “Then I fear my answer must remain the same.”
    She felt his jaw clench beneath her fingers. Black and glittering, his strange eyes probed her face, testing her resolve and the honesty of her answer.
    A strange wordless sharing flowed between them. Their eyes met, haunted teal to hungry jet. There in the darkness measures were taken, questions asked and answered, all in urgent silence. It was a strange interval, dreamlike and yet of a piercing clarity that neither had ever known before.
    Perhaps that is why they didn’t hear the muffled hoofbeats sooner. By then the carriage was nearly upon them.

CHAPTER THREE

    By the time the tall Indian turned, the carriage was at the crossing, Careening wildly toward the sidewalk where they stood. And they were caught helpless between the street and a wall of iron grillwork.
    Cursing, the rajah snared Barrett’s arm and dragged her toward a narrow doorway half hidden by shadows.
    Behind them came the nightmare stamp of angry hooves and the wild, urgent cry of a coachman. The man must be mad, or else three sheets to the wind!
    With a cold wave of certainty, Barrett realized this was no runaway team, nor an accident that found them in its path. This, too, was by design. The design of men who would stop at nothing to possess her secrets.
    The doorway seemed a universe away, the metal fence a mere blur. She plunged forward, urged on by the rajah’s strong hand about her waist. But she was only slowing him down,