Night of the Tiger(32)

She giggled. He jerked his head around but she wasn’t watching his face. Her attention was centered on her hands buried in his fur. Her fascinated delight pleased him even as the sensual joy stamped on her face aroused him.

He surged up and licked her face. Her taste was sweet and salty. Aimee slapped her hand over her cheek and laughed. Delight sparkled in her eyes.

He stared at her. Happiness made her even more beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed and her breath was thready. He could see the tips of her breasts pressing against the thin sheet she wore.

Lust struck him fast and hard. He’d already had her but he wanted her again.

He pounced, rolling her beneath him. His large jaw parted and he clamped down on her shoulder. Not hard enough to break the skin or bruise her, but to remind her, to remind them both, that he was a dangerous beast.

She stilled, the pleasure fading from her face, replaced by fear once again. It was what he wanted, wasn’t it? He didn’t want her to make him weak with her softness, enslave him with her gentle touch. He could not afford the distraction.

Yet as much as he wanted, needed, her to fear him, he couldn’t bear the thought. He sat back and nudged her shoulder in mute apology. She lifted her hands and cupped his massive jaw. “It’s okay.” She lightly brushed his fur, accidentally touching his sensitive whiskers, sending a jolt of desire rushing through him.



Aimee figured she was either crazy, which she fervently hoped she wasn’t, or this was actually happening. The second choice seemed the more probable one with each passing second. Roric had changed into the tiger from her dreams right before her very eyes.

Maybe it was drugs or hypnosis or possibly even a hallucination. Or maybe it wasn’t. His fur felt so real, a sensual delight as she sifted her fingers through it, brushing the sensitive skin between her fingers and sending a shiver of pleasure rushing through her.

Overwhelming. That was the best word to describe him. The tiger was massive, powerful and intimidating. He’d scared her half to death several times. She sensed that it was on purpose. Roric seemed to be ambivalent about her. One minute he was affectionate, and the next, he was impressing on her just how powerless she was against him. With those wicked-sharp claws and teeth, he could tear her to shreds in a heartbeat.

Her skin was damp beneath the sheet she had wrapped around her, a fragile barrier at best. Her heart raced out of control. Still, as frightened as she was, Aimee hadn’t been able to resist touching him when the opportunity arose. She’d dreamed of the tiger so often. Had touched him in the realm of fantasies. But this was different. This was real.

The tiger and the man were one and the same. Unbelievable. Yet she had no choice but to believe. The proof was overwhelming, and if what he was telling her was true, things were going to get ugly very fast.

But for now, it was the two of them. The fact that Roric had changed in front of her, exposing himself in such a manner, was not something she took lightly.

“I know you’re not tame. I understand what a gift you’ve given me, letting me see you in your tiger form. And I’m not afraid. I can’t be. Not after all the dreams I’ve had about you during my life. I’ve seen you roaming the high mountains of faraway countries. I’ve seen you prowl across windswept plains with snow whipping up around you.”

She sank her fingers deeper into his fur. “I can’t explain it. It’s as though I’ve known you for a long time.” She captured the tiger’s large face between her hands and stared into the familiar, intelligent blue eyes. “There’s a connection between us I can’t explain.”

How could she make him understand? Aimee released him and sat with her legs folded tailor-style, tugging the sheet into place so she remained mostly covered. “Ever since the accident that took my parents and left me with scars, I’ve had dreams. The doctors were surprised I lived. I was locked in a coma for days.”

She’d never talked about this with anyone. Probably wouldn’t have been able to even now if he wasn’t in his tiger form. She still found Roric the man too intimidating. The tiger was familiar. Safe.

As if sensing her unease, the tiger scooted closer, resting his massive jaw against her thigh. She stared down at the beast. The man was still there. She could see Roric in the tiger’s eyes. It was unsettling.

“Ever since that time, I’ve had dreams. Mostly nightmares.” She raked her hand through her damp hair and sighed. “For the first few years it was snatches here and there. I didn’t have them often, but when I did, they were very real.”

The tiger licked her thigh where the sheet had slipped aside as if to comfort her. The heavy rasp of his tongue sent goose bumps racing down her leg.