Quiet Walks the Tiger - By Heather Graham Page 0,52

wrists like steel cuffs and he jerked her abruptly from the bed. She uttered a startled scream in protest, shocked by his sudden show of ill-controlled force, no longer uneasy or frightened but thoroughly terrified. She was well aware of the bricklike muscles that composed the frame of this man who was now a stranger, well aware that he could break her like so many match sticks if he so desired.

He was oblivious to her cries of protest as he ripped the protective sheet from her and pulled her into the bathroom where he positioned her firmly before the mirror, his hands on her shoulders but warningly near her neck, the breadth of his body behind her, holding her steady as she lowered her eyes and begged him to let her loose.

“Not just yet...wife...” he spat, the iciness of his eyes losing nothing as he met the trembling liquid pools of hers in reflection. “We shall see what we have here, first...”

“Wesley!” Sloan implored, stunned by his actions. Wesley Adams couldn’t be doing this to her! Even the rough lover of the night before had been tender...

“Now,” he continued coldly, ignoring her outburst, his voice that of an informative teacher conducting a class, “What do we have? Do we see a woman approaching thirty, a mother of three, possibly fearful that she may be losing her looks, never again to be loved or cherished? Afraid that she shall not be accepted again by a new lover because of her children? No.” One hand slid over her shoulder, cupped a breast, moved on over her rib cage to her-flat stomach and harshly molded the jut of her hip. “No.” he hissed again, emphatically. “This woman holds no fears. She is serenely confident of her femininity. No naive girl, this. She is a beautiful, bewitching woman, and she knows it. Like a black widow, she can easily lure a man into her web. She is a remarkable animal—breasts full and firm, seductively curved hips, a figure as slim as a debutante’s. She doesn’t even remember the definition of the word ‘love.’”

“Wesley!” Sloan pleaded miserably, shaking with the unexpected vehemence of his mind-boggling attack. “Wesley, please, I beg you!”

“You beg me. Lovely.” He laughed dryly, a harsh, bitter, and hollow sound. “Not yet, darling.” His hands found her chin and forced her bowed head back to the mirror. “We haven’t decided what we do have here, yet. But certainly not a woman clinging to a last line of hope! That I could have understood. Forgiven easily.” Her chin jerked cruelly. “Open your eyes!” he commanded.

She obeyed and met orbs of such jade-green loathing that chills exploded violently in spasms throughout her. Still he showed no mercy.

“I have met street prostitutes with more scruples,” he continued, his grip like a mechanical thing. “They sell openly, for a price. They make an honest bargain. They tell you what they want, and they tell you exactly what you get in return.

“But you...wife...” She gasped a choking sob as he spun her around to face him. “You were not honest one stinking step of the way. You lied, connived, cheated, and schemed. You sold yourself more callously than any common tramp. All for my money.”

“No!” Sloan protested weakly in self-defense, slowly, sickly realizing he had been in the house at the beginning of her explanation to Cassie, hearing...

“Don’t lie to me now, woman!” His raging growl bellowed through the room as he shook her so hard that her head lolled like a doll’s and her hair fell in torrents over her shoulders. “God, don’t try to play me for a fool any longer! Your little game is really up. I heard everything you had to say to your sister, my dear, and though I didn’t want to believe it—a man’s heart and his ego can be terribly sensitive at times—everything surely fit perfectly. One night you didn’t want me crossing your doorstep, the next day you were welcoming me with open arms.” He pushed her from him contemptuously. “And I fell for it all! All that false, wide-eyed innocence. I walked into your lair with starry eyes, wanting so desperately to believe in you, respecting your views on sex and marriage when all the while...” His voice broke off grimly as he tightly clenched his fist. The lines about his mouth were white with tension. Uttering a croak of disgust, he spun on his heel and stalked from the bathroom.

Sloan stood stock-still for a moment, scarcely breathing,