Quiet Walks the Tiger - By Heather Graham Page 0,53

unable to absorb the horror of the things he had said, unable to reconcile them with the man she had known so intimately just hours before. Then she followed him out, nervously grabbed the sheet from the bed to wrap herself in, and skittered into a corner of the room to watch him with dazed, fearful eyes. She had no conception of what he might do next. It was all too evident; the man she thought she knew, understood, the chivalrous wooer, the tenderly possessive lover, existed no more. And she should have never underestimated him. Her vague suspicions that he could be a dangerous man had proved all too true. A tiger, though tamed, was still in essence a wild beast, and Wesley, like that beast, had given up all pretense of civility. Raw instinct and basic fury were guiding him now. Reason and logic had lost all meaning. Like primitive man, he was the stronger, and he would call the shots.

Sloan watched, still too dazed to attempt the explanation he wouldn’t believe as he began to pack his bags. Shrunken into her corner, she felt the tears which had formed in her eyes begin to trickle down her cheeks. Whatever happened she knew she deserved, yet how could she lose him now when she had just found him?

His glance fell her way as coolly as marble. “Don’t bother with the tears. I’m not going to break your neck, though I should. Nor am I going to annul the marriage, though I should. The children are my responsibility now, too, and there is no reason they should be made to suffer because of their mother.”

The tears fell anyway, despite his brutal statements. She couldn’t believe the way he was treating her—not after the day and night they had spent happily in one another’s arms! “Why?...” At first she didn’t realize she had said the word aloud.

“What?” Wesley barked.

“Why?...” She shrank even further into her corner, unable to complete her question beneath the survey of his relentless anger.

In two seconds he reached her, pulled her to her feet, and swung her gracelessly into the middle of the room. “Why what?” he demanded, his eyes blazing a dancing flame of green fire. “Don’t turn coward on top of everything else. You’re not the least upset over what you did; selling out didn’t mean a thing to you. You’re only upset because you’ve been caught. What was the exact plan, anyway? How many months of blissful marriage was I going to be blessed with before you sued for divorce and a handsome settlement?”

Sloan’s hair tumbled wildly over her face; her blue eyes peaked out in liquid sapphire pleading. “I wasn’t—” she began with trembling lips.

For a fraction of a second it appeared as if Wesley might be softening. Then he emitted a sharp snort of disgust which effectively curtailed her words. “Spare me, Sloan. I’ve admitted you’re a sensational actress, but you’ve already conned me once. Save it. I really don’t want to hear any more. Ask your question.”

Sloan bit through her bottom lip until it bled. All was lost. He hated her now. Her brief dream of happiness had been shattered by her own schemes, her own lies. Swallowing, she tilted her chin despite her trembling. She would hold on to her courage as he had suggested. Perhaps he could still admire her for something, even if it would sound like a futile lie to say she did love him now...had...

“Why did you go through with the wedding?” she asked quietly, her voice soft but thankfully steady. After a painful falter she added, “And why bother with yesterday?”

He shot her a glance with a shade less disdain as he continued packing, brushing by her as if she were an obstacle like a dresser or desk as he spoke.

“I’m not really sure,” he admitted with a wry hint of humor. “Maybe I feel in the back of my mind that there is something I might be able to get out of this bargain myself. And, I did want you. Badly enough to marry you, since that was your price. Then yesterday...” He shrugged and neatly folded a stack of pressed shirts into the bag. “Yesterday, I wanted to see how thoroughly you planned to pay up while we were still going by your rules.” He abruptly stopped his packing, arms crossed over his chest, and nicked his green eyes over her from head to toe with such formidable insolence that a crimson