Who Rides the Tiger

by Anne Mather

  'No, you don't,' he replied smoothly.

  'You know John is absolutely furious,' she said angrily. 'He already suspects that there was something behind this invitation!'

  'So there was,' he replied lazily. 'Do you like this beef? My chef, Maurice, has a special way of preparing it.'

  Dominique looked along the table at John and smiled appealingly, but John merely gave her a hard look and then concentrated on his food. She bit her lip, and looked at her own plate. Her nerves were jumping, and she wished she had drunk several glasses of some kind of spirit before attending the dinner party. That way at least she might have been able to enjoy it.

  Vincente finished his course, and pushed his plate aside, resting his arm on the table, turned in Dominique's direction. 'Talk to me,' he said softly. 'I like listening to you.'

  Dominique shook her head. 'For pity's sake,' she said tightly. 'Leave me alone!'

  'You would really like me to do that?' he murmured questioningly.

  'Isn't it obvious?'

  'No. What is obvious is that I disturb you just as much as you disturb me!'

  Dominique pushed her own unfinished plate aside. 'Your reputation hardly does you credit, senhor,' she said bitterly.

  'And you believe everything you hear?'

  'What do you mean?'

  He shrugged. 'Let it pass!'

  'I think you enjoy baiting me,' she said, twisting her fingers together.

  'What would you rather I did?'

  'I've told you. Leave me alone!'

  'Arid if I did - you wouldn't object?'

  Dominique stared at him. 'Of course not.'

  He half-smiled. 'Do you know what I think? I think you would be jealous!'

  'Jealous!' Dominique almost uttered the word loudly. 'You're crazy!'

  'Am I?' He lay back in his chair. 'All right. We shall see.'

  And thereafter for the remainder of the meal, he ignored her, much to her relief. Even so, though, she had to admit his company was stimulating, and the other men seemed dull in comparison.

  Afterwards they all adjourned to the lounge which Dominique had seen on their arrival. The carpets had been cleared for dancing, and a record player gave off soft music, as well as the more energetic beat numbers. A buffet had been laid on the patio for anyone who was still hungry, and there was drink of every kind.

  Dominique found John beside her, and he steered her on to the patio before they could be intercepted by anyone else.

  'What's going on?' he asked, in a low angry voice. 'What was the idea of sitting with Santos at dinner?'

  Dominique spread her hands expressively. 'John, I had no choice. I was put there, and you know it. Maybe your charming chairman likes to be surrounded by women.'

  'That goes without saying,' muttered John furiously. 'God help me, Dominique, why did we come here?'

  'Well, don't start that now!' she said, rather shortly. 'You were curious enough to see his house. Well, now you've seen it!'

  'Yes, some place, isn't it!'

  'You said that before.' Dominique glanced around, aware that people were watching them. 'Look, John, let's leave the post-mortem till later. And if we get separated again, just remember, there are only so many hours in every day. It can't last for ever!'

  But even as she said these words, she realized that she was not as eager as he was to leave. There was a fatalistic kind of masochism in staying. Dancing began, and John took Dominique back into the lounge to dance with her. Dominique looked around, unwillingly aware that she was looking for Vincente Santos.

  Then she saw him. He was dancing with Claudia. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, and her body was moulded to his. They made a very attractive couple, Dominique had to admit, but something inside her seemed to be tearing her apart. She wouldn't - she couldn't be jealous! Yet she knew her feelings had some basis in that awful emotion.

  'Let's have a drink,' she said brightly, drawing John back out to the patio. 'We'll sit on the patio and look at the view.'

  John was amiable enough, and they sat together, talking about the improvements Dominique was making to the apartment. John got them both a drink, Dominique's was a brandy and soda-, and they had cigarettes. The Rivases came to join them later.

  'You look comfortable here,' remarked Frederick Rivas to Dominique. 'It is a wonderful house, is it not? And the view! Ah!' he sighed.

  Dominique smiled. 'Yes, it is a fabulous place,' she agreed. 'I expect you've been here in daylight. Is it really as magnificent a view as one would imagine?'

  'But yes!' Rivas nodded. 'One can see to the hills in every direction. Sometimes I think Vincente is like the eagle in his eyrie, no?'

  Even John smiled at this, and conversation became more natural. Alicia Rivas was friendly, and not at all devious like Marion Rawlings, and Dominique liked her.

  'Do you have any children, senhora?' Dominique asked.

  'One only,' replied Alicia sadly. 'We wanted more, but it was not to be. Roderigo is fourteen now, and away at boarding school in the United States.'

  'I expect you miss him,' said Dominique sympathetically.

  'I do, of course,' nodded Alicia. 'But I fill my days quite easily. There is plenty to do in Bela Vista if one is energetic enough to do it. Do you swim, Miss Mallory?'

  'Yes.'

  'Then you must come and use our pool some time,' said Alicia firmly. 'I would enjoy your company, and we are soon to be neighbours, no?'

  Dominique agreed enthusiastically, and they were still talking when Salvador appeared. 'Is Senhor Santos here?' he asked.

  'No, Salvador,' replied Frederick Rivas. 'He was with Claudia. But they both seem to have disappeared!'

  Salvador glanced at Dominique, and then nodded. 'Sim, senhor.'

  Salvador went back into the house, and Dominique drew on her cigarette deeply. Had Salvador done that on purpose? Had he deliberately drawn attention to the fact that both Vincente Santos and the girl had gone off together?

  She felt her nerves jumping again. Where was Vincente now? Was he with Claudia? What part did she play in his life? Was she even at this moment in his arms somewhere?

  Her relief when Vincente suddenly appeared in the doorway was almost overpowering. He walked across to their group lazily, having a word here and there with other guests he passed. Then he reached the group and looked down at them, his eyes lingering on Dominique, much to her confusion.

  'Well, my friends,' he said. 'You are enjoying yourselves?'

  Frederick Rivas smiled. 'But of course, Vincente. The meal was exquisite, as usual.'

  'That is good. I am pleased.' Vincente stood on the stub of the cigarette he had been smoking. 'Miss Mallory, will you dance with me?'

  Dominique glanced at John's suddenly set face. 'I - I'd rather not,' she stammered.

  'But you must!' he exclaimed lazily. 'I am your host, and I command it.' He softened his words with a smile.

  'You'd better agree,' remarked Alicia, smiling. 'Vincente can be very persuasive!'

  Dominique hesitated only a moment, and then, as it was expected of her, she rose to her feet and allowed him to guide her into the lounge.

  On the polished dance floor, almost deserted now as the guests sought refreshment of various kinds, he drew her close against him, imprisoning her with his arms close around her.

  'This isn't the conventional way to dance,' she protested, as her hands rested against his chest.

  'I am not a conventional man,' he replied lazily, allowing his lips to caress her hair. 'Oh, Dominique, you're adorable!'

  'Vincente,' she murmured, not trying any longer to pretend to use his surname, 'John may be watching you.'

  'You think I am afraid of your Mr. Harding?'

  'No. But I am.'

  'No, you are not. You are happy here, in my arms. You would like me to kiss you.' He bit her ear with his teeth momentarily.

  Dominique felt as though her whole body was on fire. 'Don't,' she whispered pleadingly. 'Don't!'

  He gave a lazy
laugh. 'You are more willing now, though,' he murmured. 'You did not like to see me dancing with Claudia.'

  Dominique gave him a haughty look. 'Your affairs have nothing to do with me,' she said angrily.

  'They do, Dominique,' he persisted, allowing one hand to stray caressingly along the curve of her spine.

  'How can you say that? When only a few minutes ago you must have been—' She broke off. 'You make me sick!'

  'A few minutes ago - what?' he asked abruptly.

  'You disappeared - and so did Claudia.'

  'Ah!' he nodded. 'And you think I have been making love to Claudia?'

  Dominique flushed. 'It's obvious, isn't it? You said you would try to make me jealous!'

  He bent his head and kissed the curve of her neck. 'Claudia is over there - see? With Jose Bianca, my manager.'

  Dominique twisted her neck away from his mouth. 'You didn't make love to her?'

  'No. There is only one woman here I want to make love to,' he murmured huskily. 'Do you think I would take anyone else?'

  Dominique's breathing was difficult. 'So you did invite us here because of the other morning,' she said unsteadily.

  'Because of the other morning - yes and no. Yes, I wanted to see you again, but it began much sooner than the other morning. It began when I saw you at the airport.'

  Dominique glanced round, saw they were alone. 'I - I've got to get back to John,' she protested unevenly.

  Vincente loosened his hold on her to take her hand. 'Come with me,' he said. 'I want to talk to you - alone!'

  'No. We mustn't!'

  'I must,' he muttered rather huskily, and she did not resist.

  He led her through an arched doorway into a wide hall, with a shallow marble staircase leading to the upper regions of the house. Panelled in white painted wood, the hall was at once cool and light, and a huge chest supported a vase of brilliantly hued orchids. Salvador appeared from a door across the hall, and saw them at once.

  'Do you want anything, senhor?' he asked smoothly.

  'Just not to be disturbed,' replied Vincente eloquently.

  'Of course, senhor,' Salvador gave a slight bow, and disappeared back the way he had come.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SALVADOR'S appearance acted like a douche of cold water on Dominique. What would he be thinking? she thought desperately. He knew she was engaged to John. Did he accept her assumed submission to Vincente Santos as something to be expected? Had he seen this same situation many times before? Dominique felt ashamed.

  Wrenching her hand from Vincente's, she walked across to the vase of orchids, lifting one from its resting place, and placing it against her lips. Its petals were a delicate shade of purple edged with a darker shade which might have been black, and were curved exquisitely. She realized she was trembling and her weakness infuriated her.

  She glanced about the hall, almost surreptitiously, unconsciously searching for a means of escape. The balustrade which curved to the upper floors of the house was a delicately filigreed wrought iron, and she realized perceptively that it was up this staircase that he intended taking her. Already he had moved to its foot, and when she cast a furtive glance behind her, she found him leaning on the balustrade watching her with lazy eyes.

  'How old are you, Dominique?' he asked, almost compulsively.

  Dominique bit her lip. 'Twenty-two,' she replied stiffly.

  'Twenty-two?' he echoed disbelievingly. 'Incredible!'

  Dominique swung round, infuriated by his attitude. 'Why? Because I still have some morals left? Because I don't just fall into your arms?'

  Vincente half-smiled. 'Your words are as old-fashioned as your inhibitions,' he remarked mockingly.

  'At least I have some left!' she said angrily.

  Vincente shrugged. 'And Harding? How do you see him?'

  'What do you mean?' Dominique was curious in spite of herself.

  'I mean - do you see him as other men? Or do you perhaps believe he is one of the - er - untouchables?'

  Dominique frowned. 'I don't understand.'

  'Do you not? Do you think perhaps that your man Harding is the most faithful of fiancés?'

  Dominique stiffened. 'John is not interested in women - not-not as you are!'

  Vincente's eyes darkened angrily. 'Madre de Dios! You do not know what manner of man I am!'

  'Yes, I do.' Dominique glared at him. 'It's obvious!'

  Vincente approached her angrily. 'What is obvious?'

  Dominique felt a thrill of fear surge through her veins. 'You are!' she cried unsteadily. 'Oh, why won't you accept that I don't want to have anything to do with you?'

  Vincente caught her shoulders in a grip that bit savagely into her flesh. 'Stop talking like a fishwife!' he muttered violently. 'You know there can never be indifference between us! See - you tremble in my grasp! Is this a sign of indifference? Of contempt, perhaps?'

  Her back was against the panelling, and he was very close to her. She knew if she gave in now she would be lost. She wanted to give in so badly, she wanted to wrap her arms round his neck and drag that mocking mouth to her own, she wanted to please him - to satisfy him. But she daren't, because she knew his intentions were most definitely not honourable ones.

  With a supreme effort, she took him by surprise, pushing him sharply back, away from her, so that he fell against the polished chest, and was unable to recover his balance for a moment.

  In that moment, she flew across the hall, to French doors that she thought might open on to the patio and safety. But they did not. Instead she was in the garden, in a part of the property that she did not recognize, and certainly could not distinguish in the darkness.

  She halted, but there was no time to waste. She must get away. Sooner or later she was bound to see the lights of the patio, and Vincente Santos would be hardly likely to pursue her to his guests.

  Ignoring his angry exclamation, she rushed across the terrace, down steps into the garden, and turned in the direction of a faint sound of music. Then she saw the lights, gleaming ahead of her, through the thicket of trees and shrubs in which she was standing. With a gasp of relief, she pushed through the trees, saw a faint, suspicious gleam of something silvery, and then screamed in shock and dismay as her feet encountered nothing and then icy cool water.

  She sank down, spluttering chokingly, and emerged to the surface coughing. She was in the pool. Oh, lord, she thought. The ignominy of it all!

  The water chilled her hot limbs instantly, and she gathered her wits about her and struggled to the side. At least it was no deeper than waist height where she had fallen, and it was comparatively easy to reach the side.

  Then she heard voices, many voices, all chattering volubly and coming in her direction. But before they reached her, she felt someone's hands gripping her shoulders savagely, dragging her up on to the side of the pool.

  'Dominique!' muttered Vincente's voice, and there was something more than anger in his husky tones. 'Dios, are you all right? Tell me I have not harmed you!'

  Dominique looked up at him. 'Vincente—' she began weakly, and then the other guests came through the trees and surrounded them.

  'Dominique !' That was John's voice. 'Whatever have you been doing?'

  Dominique shivered a little. 'I just fell in the pool, John,' she said awkwardly. 'It was all my own fault.'

  John looked at Vincente Santos. 'Is that right?' he asked, the whisky he had drunk that evening making him a little belligerent.

  Santos nodded his head slowly. 'As Miss Mallory says,' he replied suavely. 'Please, everybody, go back to the patio. This has been an unfortunate accident, but Miss Mallory needs to change - to get dry. Salvador will see to it, won't you, Salvador?'

  Salvador seemed to appear from nowhere, and bowed his acquiescence.

  John moved restlessly. 'Yes - but, hell, Dominique, how did you do a crazy thing like that?'

  'Later, Harding,' said Vincente coldly. 'Later.'

  John looked as though he was about to protest, b
ut then Frederick Rivas took his arm and said:

  'Come along. No harm has been done. We will hear all about it in good time. Come, let us have a drink. Coming, Vincente?'

  Vincente gave Dominique a studious glance, and then nodded. 'Very well. Salvador, will you see Miss Mallory is adequately looked after?'

  'Of course he will, darling,' said Claudia, taking Vincente's arm clingingly. 'Now, come and talk to me. I've hardly seen you this evening.'

  Conscious of John's displeasure, Dominique followed Salvador drearily back to the house. She felt tired suddenly, and utterly dejected. Not only had she aroused Vincente's contempt by making a fool of herself, but she had drawn John's attention to a situation that ought never to have happened. And what would he have to say about it? He was not going to be so easily placated this time. There were too many instances that Dominique simply could not explain.

  Apologising for dripping water, Dominique followed Salvador across the hall where she and Vincente had talked earlier and up the shallow marble staircase. At least her premonition of ascending these stairs had not been misplaced, but in vastly different circumstances from those she had imagined.

  The first flight of stairs opened on to a wide landing, carpeted in gold pile which spread into every nook and corner. Salvador crossed this landing and opened one of the many doors which opened on to it. Then vhe allowed Dominique to precede him into a luxurious bathroom, whose floor was marble mosaic again, this time in silver and gold. There was a deep sunken bath and a pedestal wash-basin in lemon porcelain, and the walls were lined with mirrors which gave back Dominique's reflection in hundreds of different angles.

  Salvador indicated a door at the far side. 'That door opens into the bedroom which is part of this suite,' he said. 'If you will go through there after you've showered you will find something to wear.' He smiled. 'I will go now and arrange it.'

  'Thank you.' Dominique pulled the wet dress away from her thighs, aware that it was clinging revealingly. 'I'm sorry to be such a nuisance!'

  'Not at all.' Salvador bowed politely and withdrew. Dominique wondered if he ever showed his real feelings. No doubt he did with Vincente Santos. She could sense the affinity between them.