Eye of the Tiger

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Eye of the Tiger Page 2

by Diana Palmer


  He was silent. She heard him light a cigarette, heard the snap of his lighter as he pocketed it. She thought he’d stopped smoking, but apparently her father hadn’t known that he’d started again.

  His voice sounded bleak when he spoke again. “I didn’t realize until afterward how much you cared about me. And by then it was too late to undo the damage.”

  “I hope I wore your conscience thin,” she replied. “You can’t imagine what you did to my pride. But at least I didn’t get pregnant.” She managed a laugh, folding her arms over her breasts. “Whatever happened to your intended, by the way? I expected you to drag her to the altar the minute she opened her mouth and said yes.”

  “I don’t want to discuss Lorraine!”

  Of course he didn’t; he’d loved the socialite to distraction, despite her wearing ways. She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, and went to the doorway.

  “If those papers are all you needed, I’ll excuse myself. I have to get my man a decent supper.”

  He stared at her, his eyes searching and curious. “Your man?”

  Her dark eyes widened. “Shocked? I do realize you think you’re a tough act to follow, but I can’t believe you expected me to moon over you for the rest of my life. Yes, I have a man,” she lied. Well, Wade was a man, and he might be hers someday. “He’s gorgeous and sexy and rich as sin.”

  “Rich?” he returned.

  “You probably even know him. Wade Granger?”

  His face flooded with angry color. “You little fool! He’s what’s known as the crowd Romeo! The only way he hasn’t been caught doing it is hanging from a limb!”

  “How erotic!” she murmured, smiling sweetly. “I can hardly wait!”

  “Damn you, will you listen to me? He’s just out for a good time!”

  “So were you.” Eleanor folded her arms across her breasts. “Go ahead, boss, warn me about the consequences. Lecture me on rich men who look upon less wealthy women as fair game for their unsatisfied desires. You sure ought to know what you’re talking about.”

  He looked as if he might blow up any minute, a redheaded stick of dynamite looking for a match. Even his freckles seemed to expand.

  “Eleanor…!”

  She knew the tone, but it didn’t intimidate her anymore. “Now, don’t get all worked up,” she advised, smiling. “We don’t want your blood pressure shooting up, do we, you poor old thing?”

  “I am not old,” he replied through clenched teeth. “I’m barely thirty-five!”

  “Oh, but you’re thirteen years older than I am,” she reminded him. “Definitely a different generation,” she added on a sigh, studying him. “Too bad I was too smitten with you four years ago to notice. But I’m all better now. You’ll be relieved to know that I don’t have any inclination to chase after you these days. Doesn’t that make you feel better?”

  He didn’t look confident, or enthusiastic or particularly happy. He stared at her for a long time. Then, “Wade is two years older than I am,” he pointed out in a strained tone of voice.

  She shrugged. “Yes, but he has a young mind.” She grinned. “And not a bad body, to boot.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “A Romeo, you said? How fascinating. I can’t wait to see how good he is….”

  He whirled on his heel and stormed out the door without another word. Eleanor had to smother a giggle. Well, so much for his overbearing arrogance, she thought with a trace of cold pride. At least she could handle herself now; she could protect herself. And she might need that ability, because he had a slightly possessive attitude toward her. She didn’t want that; she didn’t want the risk of running headlong into him again. Part of her remembered too well the vulnerability of loving him. She wouldn’t be that stupid again. And why should he be worried about Wade? It probably irritated him that she might wind up in bed with someone else.

  Good, she thought as she went to her room to change. Let him worry. It would be small compensation for the anguish he’d caused her with his manipulations!

  She got ready for dinner, dressing in a pair of lavender slacks, a striped crinkle-cloth blouse and sandals. She peeked in the living room on her way to the kitchen.

  “Wade’s coming to supper,” she announced, grinning.

  “Is he?” her father asked mildly, studying her. He grinned back. “So I finally get to meet him, do I?”

  “He won’t take no for an answer.” She laughed. “I gave up.”

  “Just as well, the flowers were taking over the house.” He frowned, looking so much like a mirror image of Eleanor except for his silver hair and wrinkles that she smiled. “Did you and Keegan have words?”

  Her eyebrows arched. “Why do you ask?”

  “He came out looking like a thunderhead, muttered something about a meeting and dashed out. It’s our chess night, you know.”

  “Oh, I forgot,” she replied honestly. “I didn’t remember.”

  “You don’t pay a lot of attention to him these days, do you? Used to be wild about him, too. I remember how you cried when he got engaged. You went rushing off to nurse’s training in Louisville that same week.” He started to fill his pipe, aware of her sudden color. “I don’t think it’s just to see me that he’s starting hanging around here so much, Eleanor.”

  “Well, don’t make the mistake of thinking he’s mad about me,” she replied. “I know better.”

  He met her gaze. “He’s been hanging around here longer than you realize,” he replied. “You haven’t noticed.”

  “I don’t want to notice. Please don’t play Cupid, darling. Keegan doesn’t interest me that way. Not anymore. Now, Wade,” she murmured dryly, “is another matter.”

  “Do you think he’ll keep coming when he sees where we live?” he asked bluntly.

  “Of course,” she said with a grin. “He’s no snob.”

  He shifted in his rocking chair and set it into motion as he lit his pipe. “I’ll wait and find out for myself, if you don’t mind.”

  “If you think we need improvements, ask your friend the farm tycoon,” she told him. “Use your influence.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it!” he sputtered, glowering at her. “And you might remember that his daddy made his money the hard way. He wasn’t born into money, he earned it. The Taber farm is… Where are you going?”

  “I’ve heard this sermon before.” She sighed. “I know all about the Tabers. More than I want to know. I have to get dinner.”

  He studied her stiff back. “You could be a little more hospitable to my chess partner,” he told her.

  “Oh, I’ll strain a muscle being hospitable, you just watch. I’ll even curtsy when he walks in the door.”

  “Don’t get smart,” he grumbled.

  “Okay,” she promised. “I’ll treat him with all the respect due his age. After all, I am a mere child by comparison.” She turned and went into the kitchen. “I’m making spaghetti tonight, if that suits you.”

  “Suits me fine. Will it suit the snooty dinner guest?”

  She glowered at him from the kitchen doorway. “Shame on you. Just because he has money doesn’t make him a snob.”

  “Yes, I could say the same thing about Keegan, if you’d listen.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him.

  “Why do you dislike him so?” he asked unexpectedly, his eyes narrowed.

  What could she say to that? Telling him the truth was out of the question, and nothing short of it would convince him. She leaned forward with a conspiratorial smile. “He has freckles,” she whispered. “I hate freckles.”

  And while he was laughing at her cheek, she vanished into the kitchen.

  Chapter Two

  Wade was right on time, and Eleanor met him at the door with a bright smile. She had expected to find him wearing slacks and a shirt, as Keegan frequently did when he visited them. But Wade was wearing a very trendy navy-blue blazer with white slacks and a white shirt and tie, and he looked taken aback by Eleanor’s neat slacks and blouse.

  “Sorry, l
ove, am I overdressed?” he asked apologetically, looking briefly uncomfortable, then even more so as his gaze wandered around the hall, taking in its far-from-recent paint job, worn linoleum and single light-bulb hanging bare from the ceiling.

  “We’re a little primitive around here,” she said with a faint smile. “The house was given to us rent-free by the Tabers due to the length of my father’s employment here. We tend to forget how it looks, but there’s never been any reason to update it, you see….”

  “Was I criticizing?” he said quickly, and smiled to soften the words. “My world is a bit different, but that doesn’t make it better, now does it?” He chuckled.

  “No,” she said with a laugh. “You’re a nice man.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” He sighed.

  She stood back to invite him in, feeling underdressed and underprivileged, even though she knew he hadn’t meant to make her feel that way. “Won’t you come into the living room and meet my father?”

  She led him there, swallowing her embarrassment at the shabbiness of their furniture. The living room needed painting, too—why hadn’t she noticed that before now? And the rug— Oh, Lord, it was in rags! She hadn’t paid the slightest attention to the condition of the house since she’d been back. Helping her father since his accident and holding down a full-time job of her own left her just enough time to keep the house clean and neat. And there hadn’t been any company to speak of, except other farm employees who were friends of her father… and Keegan, who never seemed to notice where he was, making himself right at home in castle or hovel alike.

  Her father would be wearing that sweater with the hole in the sleeve, she reflected, groaning inwardly. He had better ones, but that was his favorite. Smiling, Barnett Whitman extended his hand to Wade, not seeming to notice that he looked positively ragged in his old baggy trousers, faded print shirt and slippers.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Granger,” he said easily. “Sorry I’m not getting up, but I’ve had some trouble with my hip and sitting down feels better.”

  “Yes, your daughter was telling me about your fall,” Wade replied. “I hope it’s better.”

  “I’ll be able to go back to work next month,” her father assured him. “The Tabers have been wonderful to me, to us.”

  “I know the Tabers,” Wade said. “Keegan’s a character, isn’t he?” he added conversationally. “Quite a guy.”

  Her father immediately brightened. Anyone who liked Keegan was instantly a friend, Eleanor thought with bitter irony.

  “Keegan often plays chess with me,” Barnett Whitman said proudly.

  Wade raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I can’t imagine him sitting still that long. He always seems to be on the run, doesn’t he?”

  “In a dead heat,” Barnett agreed with a smile. “But he’s a good chess player, for all that.”

  Quickly Eleanor took Wade’s arm and said, “Shall we go into the dining room?” to prevent her father from further extolling the virtues of the one man she wanted to forget. “I hope you like spaghetti, Wade. I was on seven-to-three today, and I didn’t have a lot of time to prepare.”

  “Spaghetti is fine,” Wade told her. “I should have brought a bottle of Chianti to go with it. Or a nice rosé. What do you have?”

  Eleanor stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Wine, darling,” he said.

  “Oh!” She felt her cheeks grow hot. “I’m sorry, we don’t drink.”

  “I’ll have to take you in hand and corrupt you, you innocent little thing. Shhh, we don’t want your father to think I’m a rake,” he added in a stage whisper.

  Her father, liking this obvious attention, grinned as he sat down. Eleanor smiled as Wade seated her, but she felt oddly uncomfortable, as if her social graces were nonexistent. Without meaning to, Wade made her feel like a country mouse.

  It wasn’t the most successful evening Eleanor had ever had. She felt uncomfortable, although her father did his best to liven things up. By the time dinner was over and Eleanor had served up her special homemade apple pie with ice cream, she was more than willing to show Wade to the door.

  He shook hands with her father and walked out onto the porch with Eleanor.

  “Not a wild success, was it?” he asked with a rueful smile. “I’m sorry, darling, did I hurt your feelings?”

  “Yes, you did,” she said, surprised at his perception. “But it’s not your fault. It’s just…I guess I felt the difference in our situations….”

  “You little snob,” he accused her lightly.

  She blushed furiously. “I am not!”

  “I think you’re charming, Eleanor Whitman,” he said with an intent stare. “A nice person as well as a sexy lady, and I like you. I really didn’t come to appraise the furniture,” he added with a grin.

  “Sorry,” she murmured with downcast eyes. “I guess I’m a little uneasy about it, that’s all.”

  “Stop worrying about the differences, and let’s concentrate on the things we have in common. Over dinner. Tomorrow night.”

  She hestitated.

  “Come on, sweet thing, you know you want to,” he teased, bending to kiss her soft mouth gently. “Come on, go out with me, Ellie.”

  He made the hated nickname sound special and sweet, and she smiled dreamily up at him. He was handsome, she thought. A nice, lovely, ordinary man, despite his wealth and prominence.

  “All right,” she agreed.

  “Good girl.” He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again, breaking the line of her lips this time. He was adept at lovemaking—it showed in the sensuous deliberation of his warm mouth. And if some spark was missing, Eleanor ignored it. It was very pleasant to kiss him. She relaxed and gave him her mouth, smiling when he finally drew back.

  “Whew!” He whistled, looking breathless. “Sweetheart, you’re delicious.”

  She laughed at the warmth in his eyes. He made her feel special, womanly.

  “So innocent,” he murmured. He drew her closer, nuzzling his chin against her forehead. “I like that. I like being with an innocent woman for a change. It’s exciting.”

  He thought her inexperienced, and in a sense she was. But he was obviously making assumptions about her innocence that were false, and she didn’t know how to correct him. She drew back, looking up at him, and her eyes were worried.

  “Such a frown,” he murmured. “Don’t. I’m not that much a wolf, Little Red Riding Hood. I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you plenty of time. Now go back inside, it’s chilly out here. I’ll call you tomorrow, all right?”

  She beamed. “All right.”

  “I enjoyed dinner,” he murmured. “But dessert was the best course.” Bending, he drew her completely against him and kissed her hungrily.

  She should have told him. But there would be time for that, later. And she might never have to tell him. She wasn’t planning on having an affair with him, and she was sure that wasn’t what he had in mind, either. He seemed to be serious. That would make a nice change. She might enjoy letting him be serious about her. She kissed him back, sighing when he released her. If only she could forget how it had felt when Keegan had kissed her….

  “Good night, darling,” he said in a shaky whisper, and ran down the steps to his Mercedes convertible. He started up the engine and waved, his dark hair ruffling in the night breeze as he turned the car and sped away.

  Eleanor drifted back inside, feeling a little removed from reality. It hadn’t been a total loss, this evening. Something wonderful might come of it.

  “He’s a nice man,” her father said kindly. “Is it serious?”

  “Serious!” she burst out, throwing up her hands. “One date, and you’re wording wedding invitations!”

  “So I’m anxious to see you happily settled,” he grumbled, and glared at her. “Get married. Have children! I’m not getting any younger!”

  “At the rate you’re going, you’ll outlive me!” she threw back.

  H
e made a rough sound under his breath, got out his copy of Thucydides and began reading, deliberately ignoring her. She laughed as she went into the kitchen to wash up.

  * * *

  She was off the next day, having worked nine days in a row to compensate for a personnel shortage following a viral outbreak. Wade called early and had to break their dinner date because of business. He was going to be busy until the weekend, he said, but could she go to a party with him Saturday night at a nearby estate?

  Eleanor held her breath, trying to figure out whom she could swap duty with to make it. Yes, she said finally, she’d work it out somehow. He told her when to expect him and rang off.

  Immediately, Eleanor dialed her friend Darcy at the hospital. Darcy would take over for her, she knew, if she agreed to work Friday for Darcy.

  “Can you cover for me Saturday night if I cover for you Friday night?” she asked breathlessly when her friend answered the phone. “I’ve got this really hot date.”

  “You, with a hot date?” Darcy gasped. “My gosh, I’d get up off my deathbed to cover for you if you’re really going out with a man! It is a man?” she asked. “Not some sweet old gentleman you’re taking pity on?”

  “It is a man. It’s Wade.” She sighed.

  Darcy paused. “Honey, I hope you know what you’re doing. That isn’t a man, it’s a ladykiller.”

  “I’m a big girl now.”

  “A babe in the woods.”

  “Not quite,” Eleanor said gently. “Not at all anymore.”

  Darcy sighed. “Well, I should be shot for agreeing, but I will. Where are you going?”

  “To a cocktail party at the Blake estate.”

  “The Blakes own half of Fayette County!”

  “Yes, I know. I’m so nervous. I thought I’d wear that little black cocktail dress I wore to our Christmas party….”

  “You will not! It’s three years old! I have a strappy little gray silk number, you’ll wear that. It will just fit you. And I have an evening bag and shoes to match. No arguments. I’m not sending you to the Blakes’ looking like something out of a Salvation Army charity store!”

 

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