The Tiger's Lady

by Skye, Christina

  “I would have, but I never could find the wretched clasp.”

  “Thank the fates for that.”

  With a rustle of silk, Barrett inched higher, until his fingers were at the waist of her pantalets.

  Her eyes closed when the callused pads swept her navel and she felt the rush of cool air at her ribs.

  Even now her breath caught as she thought of how he had touched her and kindled a wild, molten hunger in the little glade.

  Pagan brushed a kiss across her neck. “That’s right, think of that, Angrezi. Think of all the pleasure I’m going to give you when we get out of here. For we’ll not die in this cave tonight, I promise you.”

  And then Pagan’s breath caught with a low hiss. “Done. Now all I need is to…”

  From the tunnel came the sound of muffled footsteps.

  “Damn! Rand’s coming back.” The planter studied her urgently. “I need your help, Cinnamon, your total cooperation.”

  She nodded instantly.

  “Come here.” In one swift thrust his bound fingers gripped her bodice and wrenched the remaining buttons open. As Pagan stared down at his handiwork, his jaw locked. “I wish there were another way, Cinnamon, but I need a distraction. And sweet lord, no one can distract a man like you can.”

  The next minute he wrenched the dress from her shoulders. He hesitated then, his onyx eyes burning over her silken skin.

  Barrett shifted, fighting down her fear. “Go on, my love. Just—just do it.”

  With a low curse Pagan shoved at the dress, then stopped. “I—I don’t know if I can.”

  “Well I can.” Seizing a jerky breath, Barrett twisted to the right and left until the fabric slid away with a soft hiss and pooled about her waist. Her breasts lay in ivory splendor, lush pink nipples furled tight in the chill air.

  Pagan’s eyes went dark and bottomless. “I always knew you were remarkable. Now come here to me.” And then he kissed her, bound as he was, and the heat of his love blotted out the cave, the night, and time itself, until fire swirled through Barrett and she barely heard the crunch of pebbles behind her.

  “Such a lovely scene. I’m almost sorry to break it up. But I’ve other things on my mind right now, such as the ruby.” Rand’s voice tightened. “Where is it?”

  Barrett froze, her pulse pounding. Slowly she eased away from Pagan, narrowing her eyes calculatingly. “Perhaps I find my loyalties changing after all, Mr. Rand. You see, I’ve discovered I don’t want to die, not while I’ve years of pleasure ahead of me. Let me go and I’ll take you to the jewel. Just think of it, you and I and all the lovely things the ruby can buy.”

  Rand’s face hardened. “Now why would I do that?”

  Carefully Barrett sat up, away from Pagan, her breasts bared to the lantern’s golden glow.

  Rand’s breath caught audibly. He barked an order to his curious assistant, who shrugged and moved off to the mouth of the cavern. Then he seized Barrett and jerked her to her feet, thrusting rough fingers against her naked skin.

  Behind them Pagan twisted, raining savage threats, but Rand only laughed, ramming his tongue between her teeth as he squeezed and twisted her tender flesh. Barrett closed her eyes, trying to keep from flinching, trying to remember that this was their one chance at escape.

  And then metal and leather tore free and Pagan surged to his feet, leather thongs and stakes still dangling at ankle and wrist. He fell on Rand with unchecked fury, his face a mask of hatred.

  Their struggles echoed like dull thunder through the cavern, along with pinging stones and muffled curses.

  With a mighty lunge Pagan sent his fists into Rand’s jaw, toppling him onto the cold stone floor. Swiftly he untied Barrett, then seized their captor’s dropped weapon.

  Using his own thongs, he wedged Rand against a thick stone column and tied him securely. Barrett heard the clink of metal and saw Pagan twist her golden chain carefully around Rand’s fingers, then draw it through the revolver, which was wedged between two stones at the man’s back.

  He began to come around now, hard-faced and snarling.

  Pagan stood up, smiling grimly. “I suggest you move very carefully, Rand. You’ve a percussion revolver at your back now, and the next chamber is loaded, I assure you. One move—one hard cough, even—and the trigger will catch. And your brains will be painting that lovely wall of crystal behind you.”

  While Rand squirmed, testing his bonds, Pagan pulled Barrett toward the door. A moment later a flood of harsh, filthy curses filled the air.

  Pagan turned and put up a warning finger. “Shhhhhh. Or you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  They plunged from the cavern into a narrow tunnel that echoed with the distant sound of dripping water. The air was damp and chill, and Barrett clutched her dress tightly to her chest. “You might have left me one or two buttons at least,” she muttered.

  Pagan shot her a wicked look, one dark brow quirked.

  “And miss the sight of all that naked skin? Not in your sweet, stubborn life, Angrezi.”

  Her cheeks flamed red for a moment, and then she saw the fear, the worry that lined his face. “Forgive me. I know there was no choice.”

  He silenced her then with a hard, drugging kiss that sent heat spiraling through her. She swayed dizzily and had to pull away for air. At the movement her shoulder brushed his arm and his face tensed with pain.

  “Oh, Pagan, I’m sorry—”

  “Never mind, my heart. No time…” Without another word he pulled her forward into the dark tunnel.

  The way twisted every few feet and soon Barrett was disoriented, but Pagan seemed to have kept his sense of direction.

  Minutes later they saw a larger tunnel stretching before them.

  They inched closer. At the same moment hard fingers bit into Barrett’s arm.

  “You go or I shoot.” It was the Indian whom Rand had dismissed. He motioned the pair forward warily, a rifle trained on their backs.

  Muttering a curse, Pagan squeezed Barrett’s hand and led her into the other tunnel. Soon they came to another cavern, smaller than the first. At the entrance, they stopped, speechless and blinded. The walls before them were imbedded with crystals of every shape, size, and color, all blazing like a thousand tiny suns.

  Barrett gasped, captured by the splendor before her. And then she heard a low laugh. A shadow detached from a nearby stalagmite.

  The shadow wore a face that made her stomach lurch. Her hands began to tremble.

  “So lovely to see you again, my sweet wife. I trust you have brought me my ruby?”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  He was as carefully dressed and venal as Barrett remembered. Her face paled as her husband strolled lazily across the cavern, a revolver cradled in one white palm.

  “At least Rand is good for something. He found this cavern a year ago and I’ve been keeping it in mind for something special. You eluded him, I see. I’m not terribly surprised. My old friend Pagan has always been very inventive.” Ruxley’s eyes hardened. “And now I believe I want to hear about the ruby.”

  Barrett felt her pulse skitter and lifted her chin defiantly. “Not until you let Pagan go.”

  “Really, my sweet, I’m disappointed in you. And in you, too, Pagan. But we shall soon loosen your tongues a bit, shan’t we?” He gestured to the Indian, who drove the butt of his revolver down into Pagan’s already bloody temple.

  With a raw curse the planter twisted, then toppled slowly to the stone floor, the crack of his body exploding like thunder through the room.

  By the time his eyes blinked open, he was securely pinioned with the Indian hovering nearby.

  Ruxley eased back against the wall, his weapon trained on Barrett. “I never meant to come, you know. But when Rand bungled things again, I realized I had no choice.”

  “Let her go, Ruxley. She has nothing to do with this.” Pagan’s voice was tight with fury. “It’s the ruby you want,

  and—”

  Ruxley’s shrill laugh cut him o
ff. “Is it? Ah, my poor deluded fool. You still don’t know, do you?” He looked at Barrett, his face hard with hatred. “She’s worth more to me than ten of your rubies, you fool.” Slowly he raised his hand and fingered the row of lace that rose and fell over Barrett’s chest. “It took me quite a while to realize that, of course. Such a pity about your grandfather. Everything might have gone so much easier had he not chosen to be so difficult about his secrets. Yes, truly a pity.”

  “Grandfather! What—what have you done to him, you gutless, contemptible—”

  Ruxley smiled coldly. “The old man proved to have a weak heart, I’m afraid. He just wasn’t up to Creighton’s questioning, it seems.”

  She flew at him like a crazy thing, her hair wild, her eyes raw with grief and rage. For a moment she felt the joy of Ruxley’s shins beneath her flailing feet. And then he seized her by the neck and threw her back against the cold stone wall.

  “You’ll pay for that, bitch! Before I’m done you’ll—” Then he cut himself off, cursing furiously. “But not quite yet.” His cold eyes slid over Barrett’s stunned white face and heaving chest. “As a matter of fact, the old fool told Creighton nothing of any value. But by the time Creighton realized he’d been duped, your grandfather was gone, spirited off by one of the servants at Cinnamon Hill, no doubt. Which leaves only you, my sweet wife. And soon you will be spilling every fact in that pretty little head of yours, believe me. Unless you’d care to see Pagan’s other eye carved up neatly.”

  Barrett’s stomach lurched, but she fought for control. At least her grandfather was safe. What she needed now was a cool head so she could deal with Ruxley. “I’ll tell you nothing! Not until you let Pagan go!”

  Slowly Ruxley eased open the ragged fabric at her chest, studying the swell of ivory skin beneath. His breath caught in a soft hiss. “Yes, you really are lovely, my dear wife. And with such valuable secrets locked in that lovely head of yours.” His fingers eased lower, teasing the shadows between her breasts. “And I mean to have them all. Oh yes, just as I mean to have that ruby.”

  Without warning his fingers tightened, twisting cruelly.

  Barrett squeezed her eyes shut and fought to keep from crying out.

  Pagan roared a curse, which was abruptly cut off as Ruxley’s attentive assistant thrust a gag between the planter’s lips.

  At that moment the loud report of a gunshot thundered down the tunnel.

  Ruxley froze.

  Barrett blanched, realizing that Rand had miscalculated once too often. She closed her eyes, trying not to think of what lay within that chill cavern.

  “Just a distant earthquake, I imagine. This whole area is rather unstable, I’ve discovered.” Ruxley shrugged. “But what think you of my crystal kingdom? Quite lovely, is it not? Unfortunately the gems are too tiny to possess any real value.”

  Then he turned, his eyes narrowing on Barrett’s face. His fingers bit into her forearms. “And now I believe I’ll have the ruby, my dear. For we’ve unfinished business between us, wife, and I think Pagan will soon be in a mood to tell me whatever I wish to know.”

  He jerked his head at the native, who freed Pagan’s gag enough for him to speak. “Let her go, damn you! I’ve got the ruby, not she! And there are hundreds more where that one came from!”

  Ruxley shook his head. “Too obvious, my friend. If you had the ruby, you would have carried it out when my people set fire to the south wing. But you didn’t, did you? No, you had to run to retrieve a worthless miniature of your exalted father and his silly wife. But she was not your mother, of course. Your mother was the timid little ayah in the back, who held your hand so tightly.” Ruxley made a clucking sound. “Nasty, sordid business, all in all. Very bad ton to muddy up the blood lines, old fellow. Just isn’t done.”

  Pagan wrenched wildly; the native moved a step closer.

  A smile played over Ruxley’s thin lips. “But if you didn’t have it, then who did? Over and over I asked myself that question.” He turned to Barrett. “Perhaps we’ll never know. But I mean to have one thing before I leave here, and that is your grandfather’s formula, my sweet. The formula for the explosive oil with the force of ten steam locomotives. Pyro-glycerine, I believe he calls it. You’ve eluded me long, but now I’ll have it.”

  Barrett shivered as Ruxley’s long, thin fingers teased her cheek and then fell to her neck, toying with a strand of hair. “I—I don’t have it. We’ve been through all this before! He was very careful never to tell me his results.”

  “Rubbish. You did everything for him—ran his workshop, ordered his supplies, wrote down all the results of his experiments.”

  “It’s true enough—all but the last, that is. For Grandfather never let me see his mixtures and his methods. He felt it was too dangerous to trust a female with such knowledge.”

  That much was true, Barrett thought wildly. Her grandfather had always felt that women were incapable of great intellect. But Barrett, fearing he would muddle the proportions in his absentmindedness, had always been careful to enter the results correctly in his journals.

  Her voice hardened. “No, I haven’t any idea of my grandfather’s formula. But I have something nearly as good.”

  Ruxley whirled about. “I knew you’d find it! Where is it?”

  Barrett merely smiled. “Do you think I’d be so stupid as to bring it here? I’ve learned something from you, after all. Never again will I be such a naive fool. No, my dear husband, the ruby is safely hidden and will be found only when I choose it to be found.”

  Ruxley studied her intently, a faint look of admiration playing across his face. “Well, well. We might have done much together, my dear. We might have toppled London. And with the ruby, many things might be possible still.”

  He crossed the room and slowly raised his ornate gold revolver to Pagan’s head. “A beauty, isn’t it? Made by Tranter. Self-cocking model. Damned efficient. And it is loaded, my sweet, make no mistake about that. Now tell me where the Eye of Shiva is.”

  Barrett’s face bled white. She swayed as she saw Ruxley’s finger ease back on the lower trigger.

  Ruxley laughed shrilly. “So amusing really. Yes, the two of you have been endless fun. Even on that night in London, when you eluded Creighton so neatly, my dear. Too bad he had to die. But I couldn’t let him tell what he knew. And of course, he bungled things and lost the ruby, after killing Sir Humphrey…” He gave a long-suffering sigh. “Really, what is an honest employer to do with such careless help?”

  His voice hardened. “But now, though I am enjoying our conversation immensely, I’m afraid your time is up, old man.” Ruxley cocked the trigger, the sound reverberating like thunder in the tense silence of the cavern.

  The muzzle lowered, digging into Pagan’s forehead.

  “No! Wait!” With a wild sob Barrett reached down and wrenched up her skirt. With awkward, bound fingers she tore at her petticoats and jerked the peach silk garter free, then unrolled the top of her right stocking.

  And then the great ruby spilled onto her fingers, its polished facets blood red beneath the torchlight, as hot and crimson as the blood that ran through its victims’ hearts.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Ruxley’s voice caught in a raw hiss. “You found it.” His eyes began to gleam.

  Slowly Barrett backed toward the mouth of the cavern. “Barrett, no!” Pagan’s voice was hoarse. “Don’t let him have it. Then he’ll never—”

  But he was too late. Already Ruxley was across the room, ripping the stone from Barrett’s trembling fingers. His eyes burned and his face was flushed with triumph. “The Eye of Shiva,” he hissed. “Mine at last!”

  He rolled the gem slowly, studying its crimson fires, while reflected sparks danced over his face.

  Just then a low rumble like distant thunder echoed through the cavern and the floor swayed faintly. Only it wasn’t thunder, Barrett knew. It was Mita, following her directions carefully, discharging the first of the nitroglycerine explosives.

 
Her eyes flashed to Pagan’s face. She saw his raised eyebrows, his startled flare of understanding.

  She gave him a swift, secret nod. But the other men did not notice. While Ruxley stared in fascination at the ruby clutched in his fingers, his Indian assistant eased closer to catch a glimpse of the legendary jewel.

  Barrett began to inch toward the tunnel. Pagan had left a gun in the other cavern, and she would have to get it. She forced down her nausea at the thought of what she would find when she got there.

  Pagan gave her a grim nod as she eased backward, while Ruxley’s low crooning spilled through the cavern.

  She was nearly at the tunnel mouth when she felt a gentle pressure at her back and whirled breathlessly. Relief flooded through her when she saw Colonel Hadley’s craggy face. She started to speak, but he put a finger to his lips and gestured for her to follow him into the tunnel.

  And then Ruxley’s wild laughter erupted from the far wall.

  Hadley tensed. Slowly, as if in a dream, he caught Barrett’s arm and shoved her forward.

  “Adrian! You got through! Get his weapon!” But the colonel didn’t move. Pagan’s face darkened. “I don’t believe it! Not you too!”

  “I’m afraid so, Deveril.” Ruxley sauntered across the cavern, the ruby clutched in his soft, white fingers. He gestured curtly to the colonel. “Over here, Hadley. I’ll need your help with the woman.”

  Barrett gasped as Hadley’s fingers tightened on her arms.

  “You bloody bastard!” Pagan raged. “How long have you been working for him?”

  “I’m sorry it had to come to this, Dev. I always hoped…” Hadley shrugged and moved forward to secure Barrett to a stone column opposite the tunnel entrance. When she began to struggle, he frowned. “It will only make matters worse if you fight me. I don’t wish to hurt you, you know.”

  Barrett felt hysteria claw through her. Hurt? If she didn’t think of something soon, they would all be hurt, hurt beyond imagining. For soon Mita would plant a blast that would rip the mountain to pieces.