The Tiger Prince

by Iris Johansen

  “He was never in my shadow,” she protested.

  “Wasn’t he?”

  “I never meant—” She stopped, appalled. “Did I make him feel that?”

  Ruel shook his head. “No, he stayed there because he had no reason to step out … until now.”

  Jane watched Li Sung move across the clearing to where Dilam was sitting with a group of Cinnidans. Ruel was right, Li Sung had changed enormously in the past two weeks. Even the way he moved was different. Though he still limped, his gait was quick and purposeful and, when he stopped beside Dilam and began speaking, his expression was intent, alert, and held more humor and determination than she had ever seen in him. This Li Sung would never be content in anyone’s shadow.

  She looked down at the coffee in her cup. “The Cinnidans think he’s some kind of magician when they see him riding Danor.”

  “Power.” Ruel’s gaze was still on Li Sung. “I think the elephant shared his power with him, but now Li Sung knows he doesn’t need it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s found it in himself.” Ruel suddenly chuckled. “God, how smugly profound I sound. But it’s true. At this rate, he may be invited to sit on their council before I do.”

  “Perhaps.” Jane threw the remainder of her coffee into the flames and abruptly stood up. “I’m going to my tent.”

  Ruel’s smile faded. “You don’t have to run away from me. I’m too much an opportunist not to realize I can’t do anything more tonight. I would never have even started it if I hadn’t wanted to find out why you were upset with me.”

  “I’m not upset with you,” she burst out. “Everything in my world doesn’t revolve around you. There are other things that—” She turned on her heel. “Good night.”

  “Other things? What other—” He stopped, paused and then said, “Good night.”

  She could feel his thoughtful gaze on her back until she entered the shadows beyond the firelight.

  Shadows. The word reminded her of Ruel’s words about Li Sung. She had never wanted to keep Li Sung in her shadow. She had always wanted sunlight and happiness for him, to give him everything he wanted and needed.

  But he did not need anything from her any more and what he wanted he could win for himself.

  She would just have to become accustomed to this new Li Sung.

  “It’s hard to believe,” Ruel murmured as he watched Danor press his forehead against the bole of a young tree and push against it. “I’ve never seen this before. Amazing …”

  Danor pushed again and the tree moved, the roots tore from the earth, and the tree toppled to the ground. Jane nodded. “Li Sung seems to be able to do anything with that elephant. I think we’re going to be able to give you your railroad in those two months. We’re up to almost five miles a day.” She smiled with an effort. “I’m very grateful, of course.”

  “Are you?”

  She turned to see Ruel’s gaze fixed on her face. “Do you doubt it?”

  “Yes.” He held up his hand. “Oh, I’m sure you’re happy about the increase in production, but there’s something wrong.”

  “What could be wrong?”

  “Li Sung,” Ruel said softly. “He doesn’t need you anymore.”

  Pain twisted within her. “He never needed me. Li Sung was always completely independent.”

  “Not this independent. He relied on you for understanding and affection.”

  “We’re still friends and friends always need each other.”

  “He’s mad about that elephant and he’s become accepted by the Cinnidans as he’s never been accepted by any people.”

  “I know.” She could hear the huskiness in her voice and swallowed. “And I’m happy for him.”

  “He’s not going to want to leave the elephant or these people. If you leave Cinnidar, you’ll have to go alone.”

  “And I suppose that pleases you.”

  “Yes, it does,” Ruel admitted. “Because with Li Sung here, it gives you another reason to stay after the railroad is finished.”

  “I can’t stay.”

  “You can do whatever you wish to do.” He smiled. “I simply hope to make sure your wishes coincide with mine. And I think I’m getting closer to doing that every day.”

  He was getting closer. Since that evening by the fire he had never again touched her, but they worked together, ate together, strove toward a common goal. He was always there, helping her, encouraging her, sharing her problems and triumphs. Sometimes she felt so close to him that it was as if they were one person. She tried to change the subject. “Have you had a report from Medford lately?”

  “This morning. He’s almost reached the canyon floor. Another two days should do it.” His gaze searched her face. “You look tired. How much rest have you been getting?”

  “Enough.”

  He muttered a curse. “You said yourself you’re ahead of schedule. Let me and Dilam and Li Sung shoulder the load for a while.”

  “Abdar will be—”

  “And let me worry about Abdar.”

  She shook her head.

  He stared at her in exasperation. “Damn, you’re stubborn!”

  He turned Nugget and kicked him into a gallop, leaving her in a cloud of dust as he headed back to the site.

  He came riding back late that afternoon, leading Bedelía. “Come on,” he said curtly. “I have something to show you.”

  “Can’t it wait?” She wiped away the perspiration from her forehead on her sleeve. “We still have a few hours before dark.”

  “It won’t wait,” he said. “I’ve told Dilam to come back and supervise the crew until it’s time to pack up for the day.”

  “But Li Sung needs Dilam with the elephants.”

  “Come on.” His tone was inflexible and so was his expression. “Now.”

  It was clear he was not going to be dissuaded. She mounted Bedelia. “What’s the problem? Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.” He spurred ahead, heading south. “Follow me.”

  At first she thought he was taking her to the clearing area where they’d been that morning, but before they got to it he veered to the east and took a trail through the jungle. Twenty minutes later they came out of the jungle on the bank of a lake.

  “Here we are.” He reined in Nugget in the feathery shade of a casuarina tree and slipped out of the saddle. “Get down.”

  “Where are we?” she asked blankly as she gazed around at the color and beauty shimmering wherever she looked. Scarlet poppies carpeted the banks, and across the lake flame-of-the-forest trees bloomed brilliant orange, casting fiery reflections in the cool, serene blue of the water. Farther down the opposite bank twenty or thirty elephants lazily cavorted in the shallows. “I don’t understand. What am I supposed to see?”

  He came around and lifted her off the horse. “Flowers, water, birds, elephants.” He took a blanket off Nugget and spread it on the moss. “Me.”

  “You brought me here to look at scenery?”

  “I brought you here to rest. Now do it.”

  “I don’t want to rest.”

  “Do it anyway.” He met her gaze. “You don’t have to be wary of me. I was desperate the other evening. I thought I’d made a mistake somewhere along the way and I was trying to regain ground any way I could. I knew even then it wasn’t the best way.” Before she could answer he turned and pointed at the elephants across the lake. “Recognize anyone familiar?”

  Her impatient glance followed his gesture. “I see elephants every day. I don’t need to come here to—” Her eyes widened as she saw what he wanted her to see. “Caleb?”

  “Caleb,” he confirmed.

  “I haven’t seen him since we first arrived.”

  “Dilam told me that the cows often keep separate from the bulls, and Caleb would have had to stay with his adopted mother. I tracked him down last week.”

  “Why?”

  “I was caught in my own trap. I took care of him.”

  He smi
led faintly. “Now he belongs to me. You should understand that.”

  “He’s bigger,” she said softly. Then she laughed as she saw him squirt another elephant with water. “And not nearly as docile.”

  “Don’t you want to watch him for a while?” he asked coaxingly. “What’s a few hours?”

  She should go back. She glanced at Caleb again. “Well, maybe for a little while.” She sat down on the blanket and linked her arms around her knees. “He’s funny, isn’t he?”

  He sat down beside her, close, not touching her. “Very amusing.”

  Minutes passed and the tension gradually ebbed out of her. Three blue-breasted wild peacocks took heavy flight as the elephants moved farther down the shore, but the birds soon settled back to ground. No threat. No hurry. Just beauty and gentleness and affection. The soft breeze touched her cheeks, and the scent of flowers was all around her, pervading her senses.

  “I can be amusing too,” Ruel said, his gaze on Caleb. “If I put my mind to it.”

  “Running patterer …” she murmured.

  “Aye, I can entertain you. I can take care of you. I can please your body.” He added grimly, “And I’ll never leave you for a damn elephant.”

  She was jarred from the euphoria by his words. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I want to be Li Sung and Patrick and Caleb to you.” He smiled crookedly. “More. I want to mean more to you than your blessed railroad. I’m saying I want to be the one to make you laugh and to give you children.”

  She gazed at him, startled.

  “I’m saying that I—” He stopped and then said in an awkward rush—“love you.” His breath expelled. “There, it’s out, and damned difficult too. I hope you’re satisfied.”

  Satisfied? At one time she would have given almost anything to hear him say those words, and even now they filled her with a bittersweet joy. “It’s too late.”

  He frowned. “I know I didn’t say it right, but it’s true and we’ve got to live with it.” He reached out and touched her cheek with great gentleness. “It’s been growing and getting bigger every day until I feel … it’s not only lust.” He grimaced. “Though God knows there’s not been many nights I haven’t gone to sleep hard as hell. I want to care for you. I want to make you happy. Do you believe me?”

  She wanted to believe him. She did not dare. “No.”

  He went still and for an instant she knew she had hurt him. “I guess I deserved that.” He suddenly erupted with explosive intensity. “But, by God, you will believe me. You’ll believe me and you’ll trust me and you’ll learn to love me again. You already care something for me now, but you won’t admit it. Maybe you don’t feel what I feel for you, but you do feel something.” He drew a deep breath and then attempted a casual shrug. “Oh well, I didn’t expect it to be easy. I’ll just have to be patient.”

  “It won’t do you any good.” she said huskily.

  “The hell it won’t,” he said. “It’s just that you don’t trust me. You think I’ll hurt you again. It won’t happen. I love you.”

  “Until you see Ian and me in the same room. Then how much would you love me?”

  He did not flinch. “I love Ian, but it doesn’t even compare with what I feel for you. Try me.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not that courageous.” She made a motion to get up. “I’ve got to get back to the site.”

  “Sit back down. We’ll go back after sundown. There’s no need for you to run away. The declaration is over.” He lay back on the blanket and closed his eyes.

  She did not want to lie there and think about what he had just told her; the words were too seductively sweet. She looked at him in the sunlight, his hair ablaze, his body graceful and sinuous, his lashes curving on his cheeks. He was mandarin and hero and running patterer. He was determination, sensual delight, and wicked mischief. He was everything that was pleasing to the eye and tempting to the senses. Everything she wanted. Everything she could not have.

  She loved him.

  The knowledge came softly, sadly, absolutely. Why had she thought she could ever stop loving him? Because she was afraid, she realized. The scars were too deep. The risk was too great.

  “Lie down,” he said again without opening his eyes.

  She could not have him, but she could have this moment of peace and sweetness. She hesitated and then slowly lay down beside him. She would have only memories after she left Cinnidar, and she would seize and hold this one. “Maybe for just a little longer,” she said as she closed her eyes. She could hear the sound of the birds and the soft, steady sound of his breathing next to her….

  “Jane.”

  She opened her eyes to see Ruel bending over her. The sun streaming through the trees was now behind him, lighting his hair and leaving his face in shadow.

  “Ruel …” she murmured drowsily.

  “It’s time to go. You’ve been sleeping for over an hour. The sun will go down pretty soon.”

  “Will it?” She reached out and touched his hair. So soft … Her hand trailed down to brush his cheek, testing the textures of him.

  He stiffened. “Wake up, Jane.”

  “I am awake.”

  “The hell you are.” He frowned anxiously as a thought occurred to him. “Do you have the fever again?”

  She did feel warm and hazy, but she knew it was not from a recurrence of the fever. “No.”

  She took his hand and put it on her breast. The ripple of shock that went through him was equaled by her own surprise. She had acted without thought, on instinct alone. Yet she did not regret it. Another memory …

  “Don’t do this to me,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t bring you here for this, dammit.”

  Her breast was swelling beneath his hand, the nipple hardening. She said breathlessly, “I don’t feel like resting anymore.”

  “I can tell.” His palm slowly closed on her breast and heat tore through her body. “You’re sure?”

  She was starting to tremble. “Yes.”

  He drew a deep, ragged breath. “God, I’m glad.”

  He began to unbutton her shirt.

  It was not like any time before. At first the rhythm was as slow and sweet as a lullaby, but later it was neither of those things. It was frantic and hot and mindless, capturing them both in a tempest of feeling. Yet she realized that storm had none of the darkness of domination. He was leading, not conquering.

  The climax left her limp and gasping, her arms clutching him tightly to her.

  His chest was heaving, his face buried in her shoulder. His voice was low and muffled. “Why, Jane?”

  Without thinking, she told him the truth. “I wanted something to remember after I leave Cinnidar.”

  He flinched as if she had struck him. “I hope I made the experience properly memorable.”

  She had hurt him again with her careless words. “I mean, I woke up and you were there and I—”

  “You don’t have to explain.” He lifted his head and looked down at her. “I’ve been used by women before. It’s just never mattered to me.” He swung off her, stood up, and lifted her up in his arms. “I have no intention of becoming only a memory, but I’m not above snatching a few pleasant ones of my own.”

  He started walking toward the lake.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, startled. “Ruel, this is—”

  He stepped off the bank and into the lake. The shock of the cold water made her gasp. “You call this pleasant?”

  He grinned as he set her on her feet. “You’ll get used to it.” His hands moved around in back of her head to loosen her braid. “I want to see your hair.” He threaded his fingers through its thickness. “Silky … I’ve always loved your hair.” His fingers grabbed the soft mass, holding her head back as he looked into her eyes. “I love you.”

  She stood there, staring up at him. She couldn’t tell him how she felt. She couldn’t put herself in his power again.

  “But of course you don’t believe me.” He smile
d with an effort. “Are you still cold?” “No,” she whispered.

  His hands fell away from her and he stepped back. He deliberately hit the water, splashing her in the face. “How about now?” he asked with a wicked grin.

  She sputtered. “Are you trying to drown me?”

  “Just following Caleb’s example. You seemed to find him amusing.” He splashed her again.

  “Ruel, that was—” His face was alive with such boyish deviltry that she broke into helpless laughter. He had changed from sober intensity to wicked mischief in the space of a heartbeat, and she welcomed the transformation with relief. “Let’s swim.”

  He shook his head. “I’d rather splash you. You looked like an indignant ten-year-old,” Ruel said. “I’d like to have seen you that young.”

  In the hour that followed she felt as if he had given her back the childhood she had never had as they played and swam in the water. She felt young and joyous and without a care. She was disappointed when at sundown Ruel waded back to shore and began to dress.

  She followed him with reluctance. The air was still warm, but she shivered as the breeze touched her damp body. She hurriedly dried herself on the blanket and started to pull on her clothes.

  He picked up her shirt from the ground and held it for her.

  She slipped her arms into the sleeves. “I’m capable of dressing myself.”

  He began to button her shirt. “I want to do this. Kneel down,” he murmured. “There’s something else I want to do.”

  The maharajah’s painting. Her gaze flew to his face as a sudden memory of that day in the summerhouse came back to her.

  His lips tightened as he realized what she was thinking. “No, though I’d like to try that again someday. I think I’d get it right this time. You wouldn’t find fault with the way I look at you now, would you?”

  She remembered the tenderness in his expression as he had looked at her while they were standing in the lake. “No.” She slowly sank to her knees on the blanket.

  He knelt behind her, his fingers braiding her hair. “I’ve wanted to do this since that first day you took me to the temple to see Kartauk. I watched Li Sung care for you and I was jealous as hell. I should have known then …”