Authors: Miranda Powers
Once again, Lara had those twin emeralds gleaming down at her. "I want to thank you for this evening," he said. "It meant a great deal to me to be able to help. I want you to know I'll be personally in touch with the groups who arranged this party, and I shall do everything that I can for them. So truly, thank you."
As Manik spoke, Lara heard in his voice the same thing she had seen from afar on his face during the presentation--the same sadness, but even more profound. She was sure that for some reason she detected a feeling of loss, even grief, in his voice. His concern for the tigers was not the concern of an enlightened, compassionate man who cared about the natural world. No, this was something more; it was
grief.
Manik truly
grieved
for the tigers. At the bottom of her heart, Lara wanted to know what it was that caused him such sorrow. But all that she found appropriate to say was, "I'll be in touch with them too, Manik. I hope we get to meet again, maybe even work together on another project like this."
"I'd like that very much," he said sincerely. "Good evening, Lara."
As they stepped away from the table, Gemma in her leopard print said dismissively over her shoulder, "Yes, good evening, Lara." Lara smiled civilly at her, watching them head for the outer hall. She noticed that Gemma had not contributed so much as a cent; she had allowed Manik to donate by himself and had not even bothered to sign the pledge book and was now acting as the "date" that Manik had expressly said she was not.
Well, I guess Little Miss Leopard has caught what she was hunting for, hasn't she?
When they were safely out of sight, Lara let her smile fall just for a moment into a scowl.
A few minutes later Lara asked Clara to take over the pledge book while she excused herself to "the sandbox," using a suitably cat-like reference for the evening. One of the bathrooms happened to be situated just around the corner from the outer hall and the door to Eve's penthouse. As she came to that corner, she heard familiar voices, one male and British, one female and desperate, and ducked back out of sight to listen. There happened to be a mirror on the wall, where she could pretend to be checking herself if anyone came by to see her doing what she should not be doing: listening to what was going on right around the corner. Hearing the voices, she only wished she could see the body language. Gestures at times say more than words.
"Now, Manik," Gemma practically purred. "We've had such a fine time, a lovely evening. Why let it end now? We didn't arrive together, but we could at least leave together."
"I don't think so, Gemma," Lara heard Manik say. "It has been a fine evening, as you say. But it has been a long one and I'd like to be alone a while, to gather my thoughts before I retire."
When Lara heard him say "retire," as in "go to bed," she could not stop herself peering ever so carefully round the corner--just in time to see Gemma put herself in his personal space and drape her arms seductively over his shoulders. Shutting her mouth tight to mute the sound of her gasping, she whipped her head back round the corner even as Gemma said with a more plaintive sounding purr, "But Manik...I haven't even seen you out of your makeup. You could at least let me help you take it off."
Lara shut her eyes at what she imagined must be happening at this point: Gemma letting her hands slink down from his shoulders and unbutton his coat, and her fingers tracing the impeccable contours and ridges of those pecs and abs. All that she heard was Manik saying, "I can take it off by myself just fine, I promise."
Oh, I'll just bet you can,
Lara thought. She had no way of knowing that the leopard woman actually was opening his coat, but her frustrated heart told her it must be so.
Gemma's voice came back, "At least let me go with you back to your door. We can say good night there."
"Escorting a lady back to her door is what the gentleman is supposed to do, Gemma."
"That works well enough for me, Manik."
Assuming the one being escorted actually is a lady,
Lara silently added.
"See me home, then," Gemma pressed. "We'll have a last drink together at least."
"I've had enough to drink tonight, Gemma. And so, I think, have you."
"Manik! That was naughty!”
"If it was, I'm sorry. We should call it a night before it gets naughtier, then."
"Will you at least call me?" Lara heard a definite pout in Gemma's voice, like that of a little girl being sent to bed without dinner--or what Gemma so clearly wanted.
"I'd rather not make any promises," Manik answered. "To be honest, I'm not interested in starting anything just now. I'd prefer to be by myself."
Lara's eyes widened at this point. She just
had
to risk a peek at Gemma's reaction to that. Leaning carefully back around the corner, she saw Gemma taking a step back from the tall, dark, tiger-faced Englishman--and gratifyingly, she saw the front of his opera coat
closed.
She withdrew around the corner once more, relieved, as Gemma said, "Then can I call you?"
Gently but firmly, Manik answered, "It would be best, I think, if we just said good night."
With this came a moment of dead silence. Not a sound came from the outer hall, and Lara could only imagine the disappointment playing on the supermodel's face. It was the only time since the evening began that she felt the slightest pang of sympathy for Gemma. Finally, she heard Gemma say with the shreds of dignity that she had gathered up in that silent moment, "I'm sorry you feel that way, Manik. The rest of tonight could have been much nicer than the party. Much,
much
nicer."
"Could I see you out and hail you a cab?" he offered, gallant as ever.
"No, no," Gemma replied. "I can manage. Just walk me to the elevator and I'll be fine. I'm sorry, Manik."
"Don't be sorry," he said. "Just be well."
No more words came from around the corner. Lara heard the door open and close. She imagined the two of them walking in silence down the hallway outside to the elevator to the lobby. Manik, she knew, was not going to change his mind. Gemma the leopard woman would live to hunt another wealthy mate at some other party. At least Lara would never see her again. Nor, she thought sadly, would she see Manik.
CHAPTER 3
The party ended and Lara said her good-nights. On the street outside, snug in her wrap, she stepped to the curb and cast her eyes about, seeking a cab for home. Across the street lay an exclusive five-star hotel with a restaurant and bar on the ground floor. She would not have paid the place any more mind than she would any other enclave of the well-to-do, had she not spied a particular figure with a drink at a table near the front window--a tall, brooding figure in a black opera coat. She permitted herself the gasp that she had stifled while eavesdropping in the penthouse. It
couldn't
be...
All thoughts of going home for the moment fled as Lara crossed the street. The closer she came to the front of that hotel, the more she knew:
Yes, it is.
Walking up to that window, she looked at who was sitting inside, swirling the drink in his glass. The coat was the same, except at some point he had donned an immaculately pressed white dress shirt under it. The hair was the same. But that face... Lara's breath caught in her throat at the sight of that face. She almost toppled over in her high heels. She had never gazed upon such exotic handsomeness in her life. Everything wild and free, and everything gentle and lordly, lived in those features. He was as beautiful as a man as he was as a tiger.
That handsome head turned and looked out to the street, and those sparkling, soulful green eyes fell on Lara once more. The eyes blinked, and he smiled. A wave of warmth passed over Lara's body at that smile, and she smiled back--at the sight of him motioning her to come inside and join him.
CHAPTER 4
Lara could not believe it was just the two of them, that he had bought her a drink and they were alone together, facing each other across the table, and that he was as happy to see her as she was him. Happy? Yes--he was actually
happy
to see her.
"As I explained, Gemma was not my date," Manik said. "And I think I disappointed her quite a bit. She got into her cab and never gave me another look."
That's all right,
thought Lara.
I'm more than happy to look at you.
"She didn't make a contribution, either," she said. "I think she had a very specific reason for being there."
"I'm sure she did. I found her rather...obvious."
Lara's face lit up at how perceptive he was. "Obvious! Yes, that's the perfect word for her. She
was
obvious."
With a dash of mischief under the British accent, Manik said, "Perhaps at her next function she'll be a little more attentive to the dress style, yes?"
Lara giggled. "And to how much she's had to to drink!" She hoped she wasn't making herself as obvious as Gemma, having heard Manik make a similar observation.
"I like what you chose to wear," he said. "It's exactly right."
"Thank you!" she replied, warmed again by the compliment. "And I loved your tiger face. It was so real. It was like something a Hollywood makeup artist would do. You looked like something out of a movie. When did you have the chance to take it off?"
"I took it off in the back seat of my Jaguar, where I had put my shirt. It's much easier than you'd think."
Lara almost burst out with a belly laugh at that. She loved the very English way he pronounced it:
jag-you-are.
"Oh my goodness, you're kidding! A Jaguar!"
"Of course," Manik said, smiling the sexiest smile that Lara had ever seen.
"We've really got a whole theme this evening," she said. "A tiger party, a woman in a leopard skin suit, a man who drives a Jaguar. That's perfect."
"Yes," he said softly. "Perfect." His eyes glittered at her.
"So, your name: Manik. Is that something related to cats too?"
He gave her a thoughtful look. "I suppose it could be if you looked at it in a certain way. Manik is an Indian name. It means ‘ruby’."
"Ruby," Lara whispered back in a quiet awe. The name
was
perfect. The red ruby, the color of lust. This man dazzled like a red jewel. "That's beautiful," she said.
"Lara," said Manik, "when I was speaking to Gemma earlier, I said I wanted to be alone tonight. I'm afraid what you heard was a little bit of a lie."
A hot flash of anxiety hit Lara. "I'm sorry. What I heard...?"
"Yes, when you were standing just off the entrance, listening. You heard me tell her that I wanted to be alone. I lied."
Lara's mouth fell open but only her breath came out. She fidgeted, fumbled for her purse, embarrassed. "Manik, I'm so sorry. I don't know why I did that. It was inappropriate, childish... I'm so sorry..."
What he did next was the greatest surprise of her evening. He reached across the table and took her by the hand, the same hand that he kissed at the party. She looked up with eyes filled with apology into the green pools on his face and found no rancor there, only infinite gentleness. Her heart melted while the rest of her froze. "Don't be sorry," Manik said. "I'm not offended."
Lara half-whispered, "How did you know?"
Smiling mischievously, he answered, "I'm very perceptive, remember?" The moment suspended itself in time. With her hand in his, Lara wished it could stay forever.
Somewhere at the end of forever, she heard herself say, "You said you lied...?"
"Yes. I lied. I didn't really want to be alone. It's only hers wasn't the company I wished I could have. I should have liked much better to have the company of someone...not so obvious."
Lara gulped at the implication. No, it couldn't be. Manik was not suggesting what she thought he was. All she could say was, "Oh..." Then, haltingly, tentatively, "This hotel...this is where you're staying?"
"No," he replied. "My place is a short ride away. And I'd very much like to take you there, Lara--if you'd let me."
"For another drink?"
His fingertips slipped nimbly from her hand down to her wrist. "No, Lara. Not just for another drink."
Lara's mind reeled at the thought of it. Surprise, bewilderment, fear, and most of all, disbelief—pure, incredulous disbelief--spun like a whirlpool inside her. Reflexively, she drew back her hand. No, this was not happening. This could not be happening. Manik was too beautiful, too exquisite, too perfect. There was no way he could be seriously suggesting this. There was no way he could mean it. She was a pear and he was a magnificent tiger. Perhaps Manik did not want the obvious and needy Gemma, but he
certainly
could not want her. Men like him did not offer what he seemed to be offering to women like Lara. The simple pleasure of his company was all that she knew she could expect from such a man.
"Manik," she said, "there's really no reason for you to say that. You're a kind, generous man. You're good and you're smart and you're funny. And there must be someone else you'd rather..."
"There isn't," he said, gently interrupting. "I've only just come to this country. I don't know anyone in America, not really. But I know what kind of person I like, and it isn't someone obvious. It's someone intelligent, and kind, and warm, and real--everything that I can tell you are. And sexy.” He winked.
"We haven't even had a whole evening together. How do you know all that about me?"
"I know, Lara. I know it from the way you spoke of the tigers; the way you talked of the danger they face from man, how important it is to help them, how horrible and sad and heartbreaking it would be to lose them. Your compassion for them touches me. I feel the same way, more than you know. But I'd like you to know. I'd like you to trust me. I want to tell you how much more I feel for the tigers than anyone else ever could. I want to show you...," he trailed off, still holding her wrist, and looked out the window, not at anything in particular. Somehow he seemed to be looking at something far, far away, something that only he could see.