Night of the Tiger(40)

He had her portfolio open in front of him. Drawings were strewn across every surface of the room, including the floor. All her work, her nightmares, was on display for him to see.

No one touched her work without permission. No one. “What the hell are you doing?” She stalked into the room, hands fisted on her hips. How dare he go through her stuff without asking? Her world was spinning out of control enough without this invasion. “You have no right to be looking at those.”

This was even worse than waking up in bed with a stranger, knowing she’d made love to him. That was physical. This went much deeper. Her work came from her emotions, her soul.

His pale blue eyes were icy and a chill permeated the room, as though his anger had sucked all the warm air from it. “Where did you get these?”

Roric was intimidating enough when he was relaxed in bed. Angry, he was truly scary. Aimee swallowed back her fear. She was tired of being manipulated. She felt like a bit player in a theatre who didn’t know her lines. Everyone else around her seemed to know what was going on, and she was sick and tired of it.

“I drew them.” She took two more steps, which brought her right in front of him. A quick glance told her these were the drawings of her nightmares, not her current comic illustrations. “I told you I’d had nightmares.”

Just looking at the sketches gave her the willies. Now that she knew a part of her had really been there and actually seen those creatures, it was terrifyingly real. She shoved down her fear and brought herself back to the problem at hand. Namely, Roric.

“Her.” He pointed to the woman with the dirty, matted hair and tattered clothing that she’d briefly seen wandering through the cavern of Hell. “Where did you see her?”

Aimee didn’t need to look at the woman to remember her. She’d only caught a brief glimpse of her, but she knew she’d never forget her eyes. Most of her face had been in shadows, but her eyes had been unforgettable—timeless, kind and wise.

Plus, there was the fact that the woman had helped Aimee escape from her nightmare. She couldn’t be certain, but in her heart, she knew this woman had been the one to tell her how to escape, who had offered encouragement.

Aimee had felt guilty leaving her behind, even though she was just part of a dream and not real. Now, she wasn’t sure if any of what she’d seen had been a fantasy or if all of it had been reality. Had she left this woman to suffer? It was all very confusing.

Roric was waiting for an answer, his fury growing with each passing second. She could almost feel the air thickening around her. “I told you I had nightmares. I caught a very brief glimpse of her during my last trip to Hell.”

Aimee was almost afraid to ask her next question, but knew she had no choice. “Why? Who is she?”

His voice was filled with emotion, almost reverent when he spoke. “My Lady.” Just two simple words, but they said so much. They managed to convey everything—awe, respect, possession and even love.

Jealousy, hot and totally irrational, raged through Aimee. She clenched her hands at her sides to keep from tearing the drawing out of his hands and shredding it. Roric was nothing to her, and it was best she remember that fact. He was a one-night stand. His purpose was to free himself from the curse. He was bound to this woman, this goddess, who’d she’d drawn.

“You can’t know for sure it’s her.” Aimee could have bitten off her tongue the moment she’d spoken. The glare Roric sent her was filled with unsuppressed rage.

“She’s gaunt and frail, but it’s her. It’s in her eyes.” His gaze narrowed. “How long ago was this?”

Aimee felt like a small rabbit cornered by a large beast. The urge to run was great, but she knew he’d be on her in a second if she tried. He was, after all, a tiger at heart. And not just any tiger, but a white tiger, the largest of all the big cats. He was a loner and a predator by nature. This was not some domesticated kitty. She’d do well to remember that.

“A week at most.” She held up her hands to stop him from questioning her further. His eyes narrowed to slender slits, but he said nothing as she continued. “I saw her for a brief second. That’s it. She never spoke aloud.” Technically, that was true. She didn’t want to tell Roric she thought she’d heard the woman speak in her mind. What was said was between them. And none of it had any bearing on the situation facing them.

The woman had helped her escape from her nightmare, for which Aimee was eternally grateful. If she’d known it was real, she might have been able to find a way to help the woman escape. But there was no going back.