Lindsay McKenna

Heart Of The Tiger


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order.” He ran his fingers through his short, neatly cut hair. What he really wanted to do was reach out, move into her arms and simply be held by her. He was so tired of the loneliness aching inside him.

      Layne slowly got to her feet, standing mere inches from him, and tilted her chin upward to meet his shadowed eyes. “I lived with an agent for five years,” she began tensely. “He was a master of the very thing you’re talking about. I’d like to believe that what you did was out of human need and compassion, but I’m afraid all my conditioning tells me differently.”

      Matt’s mouth pulled into a grimmer line. Carson must have wounded her deeply to make her this distrustful of his own intentions. He wondered how much of her sensitivity had been left intact over the years.

      Matt reached out, taking a damp wisp of black hair curling along her cheek and placing it behind her delicate ear. Her skin was soft as a ripe peach. A rose hue stained her cheeks as she met his intense gaze. “I stayed because you needed someone, Layne. Good night.”

      Layne swallowed hard. There was a lump in her throat and her heart was pounding heavily. How could this man walk into her life and literally turn her world upside down in fifteen minutes’ time?

      “Wait!”

      Matt rested his hand on the doorknob and turned his head slightly toward Layne. She looked almost ethereal, that glorious cloud of black hair surrounding her pale face, her lips parted breathlessly.

      Layne slowed to a halt. “You haven’t yet earned my trust, Mr. Talbot, but you don’t deserve my anger.”

      “Prove it. Have lunch with me tomorrow.”

      Her heart gave a sudden thud. “Why bother?” she challenged him. “I already gave Chuck Lowell my answer.”

      “He didn’t know how to handle you.”

      “And you do?”

      “Why not wait until you hear what he wants before you turn him down?”

      Her lips tightened. “You’re very good at your job, Mr. Talbot. Keep victims off balance so they can’t ferret out your real motive.”

      He offered her a hint of a smile, his azure eyes darkening with an unknown emotion. “It’s Major Talbot, Mrs. Hamilton. And I’ll pick you up at the university at noon.”

      Afterward, Layne stood in the foyer in stunned silence. Was he manipulating her, or was her paranoia from the past haunting her? Her mind spun with questions. But what difference did it make? She had sworn never again to get involved in any way with a man who worked for a government agency. So let Major Matt Talbot play his game of intrigue. It wouldn’t get him anywhere.

      * * *

      Nervously, Layne gathered her sheaf of papers and put them into her desk drawer. Other teachers milled around, discussing the humidity and high temperatures. The desultory chatter set her on edge even more. She looked at her watch again—for the hundredth time, it seemed. Miserably she sat staring out the window overlooking the university campus. Maybe Matt wouldn’t show up. Twice, Layne had almost picked up the phone to tell Chuck Lowell to have his man back off. She touched the collar of her plum-colored silk dress she’d accented with a hot pink sash. She had chosen the colors to strengthen her emotional state.

      “Hey, Layne?” Dr. Fred Gerus called. “You have a visitor.”

      Layne forced herself to remain calm. She had purposely woven her raven mane into a chignon, softening it with wispy tendrils at the temples. Smoothing out the folds of the dress, Layne moved slowly toward the door of the teachers’ lounge. Nothing, however, could have prepared her for what awaited her as she rounded the corner.

      Matt Talbot was impossibly handsome in uniform, his lean, whipcord body attesting to his peak physical condition. He stood tall and relaxed, hands clasped before him. His azure eyes darkened with pleasure as Layne walked toward him. His blue Air Force uniform boasted a gold major’s oak leaf on each broad shoulder. Layne’s eyes widened as her gaze traveled downward. On the left side of his uniform were silver pilot’s wings and rows of military ribbons attesting to his abilities. He was every inch a warrior, her mind told her. But her heart lurched anyway. He gave her a devastating smile of welcome, barely inclining his head forward.

      “Mrs. Hamilton.”

      She gripped her purse. “Major Talbot.” And then in a low, husky voice she whispered, “If, indeed, you are a major in the Air Force.”

      Matt grinned, confidently settling the officer’s cap on his head, its black bill shading his eyes. “I am what I seem, Mrs. Hamilton. Shall we? I have reservations at La Fleur for twelve-fifteen.”

      Layne walked briskly beside him, wildly aware of his fingers on her elbow as he guided her out of the university. “La Fleur? That’s terribly nouveau riche for someone on an officer’s pay, Major Talbot.”

      “A classy place for a classy lady,” he murmured, guiding her toward the parking lot.

      “Butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth, Major.”

      Matt smiled tentatively, guiding her to a shark-gray Lexus. “I prefer women with silky black hair and beautiful golden eyes,” he corrected.

      Layne observed him closely as they arrived at his car. Brad had gone through similar motions hundreds of times: carefully inspecting the vehicle before putting the key in the door. After all, a bomb could have been placed inside, ready to explode upon contact when the key entered the lock. Although it was ninety degrees and the hot sun was beating down upon them, Layne shivered.

      Finally satisfied, Matt opened the door for her. Layne climbed in without a word, strapping the seat belt across her body. Then Matt slid in, deceptively relaxed.

      “Why are you being so complimentary today?” Layne demanded as he guided the purring Lexus into the noontime traffic.

      “Why not?”

      Layne fumed inwardly. How many times had Brad answered a question with a question? She’d finally realized she wasn’t supposed to ask questions at all, although she’d had many during the last four years of their marriage. Now, she gave Matt Talbot a murderous look.

      “Because you want something from me, Major Talbot, that’s why.” And you’re too handsome, she added silently, aware of his clean profile as he drove. A slight, inviting smile hovered around his mouth, easing the hard planes of his face.

      “Why do you confuse my honesty with wanting something from you?”

      Layne frowned and clutched her leather purse more tightly between her hands. “Since when did agents become honest?” she retorted scathingly.

      “I’m an officer in the Air Force, Mrs. Hamilton.”

      “You also work for the Company.”

      “Sometimes.”

      “Like now. You’re working for them now. This minute.”

      “Yes.”

      “And you’ve got the nerve to ask me why I don’t trust your compliments?”

      He slid a lazy look in her direction, then returned his attention to the driving. “Did you question your husband’s compliments?”

      Tears drove into her eyes. She felt as if someone had struck her in the chest with a fist. “That’s unfair!”

      “Any more unfair than questioning that I might compliment you because I think you’re attractive?”

      Her nostrils flared with anger as she glared at him. “You’re very good at slipping a dagger between someone’s ribs, Major Talbot. Did someone teach you to use personal assaults to net the desired response from the other party, or does it just come naturally?”

      His eyes turned glacial. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re paranoid?”

      “It comes with the territory.” Layne’s knuckles whitened,