Dusk fell rapidly, and it was nearly full dark when a tiger emerged languidly from the underbrush. In the bright moonlight, its stripes shone pale gold. Laura had never seen a tiger in the wild, and she caught her breath, awed by its dangerous beauty.
Even that tiny sound caused the massive striped head to swing toward the machan. She held utterly still until the tiger resumed its stroll. Ian silently raised his rifle, but held his fire. Laura wondered how he could identify the correct tiger at night, then remembered that he had said that the man-eater had a bad paw. This beast had no limp, so it must be the innocent tigress rather than the rogue they sought.
Catching the predator's scent, the kid gave a thin bleat of fear. Instantly the cat dropped into a stalking position and slunk toward the staked animal, tail switching and hindquarters quivering with anticipation. Laura bit her lip to prevent herself from asking Ian to shoot into the air to drive the tigress away. Doing so might save the kid at the price of alerting the man-eater if it was near.
The kid backed to the end of its tether and bleated again, its terrified cry sending a chill down Laura's spine. The sound also affected the tigress, for she abruptly abandoned her stalk. Majestic as a queen, she walked up to the kid, lowered her head, and sniffed. Briefly the large beast and the small stood nose to nose. Then the tigress gave the kid a friendly swipe with her huge tongue, using a force that staggered the little animal.
Peace having been made, the tigress moved to the water and drank, then disappeared into the night. Laura released her breath. The water hole truce had held, or perhaps the tigress's maternal instincts had been roused by the kid's vulnerability.
Laura glanced at Ian in time to see his head turn toward her. Neither spoke, and she could not see his face in the shadows, but words were not needed to know that they shared the same sense of wonder over what they had seen. For a moment she felt as close to him emotionally as she was physically.
After the tigress, traffic slowed down and eventually Laura began to feel drowsy. She was trying to suppress a yawn when Ian took off his jacket, folded it into a crude pillow, and gestured for her to lie down. By shifting his position a little, he created enough space so that she could rest.
Gratefully she accepted his unspoken suggestion. After unpinning her hair, she curled up on her side, the improvised pillow under her head. Laura had always been aware of the fact that every person had a subtle, individual scent, and Ian's jacket carried his. It made her feel safe, so safe....
She was floating in the dreamy space between waking and sleeping when the insight emerged. The reason she felt so safe with Ian was because he didn't desire her. Most men did, and she was always uncomfortably aware of their yearning. But the feeling that she got from the major was very like what she had felt from her stepfather: kindness and protection.
Because she was so accustomed to generating male desire, she had been disconcerted when Ian was not attracted to her. But the present situation was better. If he did not desire her, it was safe for them to be friends.
It was a delicious thought to carry into sleep.
* * *
Ian kept watch through the night, but the man-eater did not come. His vigil was not unpleasant. The grasses on the far side of the water hole rippled like pale silk in the moonlight, and the soft sound of Laura's breathing was as soothing as gentle music. He liked having her close.
He tried to imagine Georgina sleeping beside him, hair loose and one hand curled against his thigh, but he couldn't quite bring the picture into focus. Georgina might dance all night, but she would never stay quietly in the forest.
At dawn Laura woke and sat up, moving carefully so she wouldn't fall off the machan. A shaft of sunlight slanted through the leaves and struck the hair that tumbled luxuriously about her shoulders, turning it to glowing bronze. Her slanted eyes were the same shade, and Ian once more thought of a cat—a sleek, pretty puss who dined on cream and slept on silk.
"I have an interesting assortment of sore muscles." She yawned and stretched her arms. "But I assume that the man-eater didn't oblige us."
"I'm afraid not," he replied. "I warned you that it might be a dull night."
To his regret, she tied her hair back with a ribbon as she continued, "I'm glad I came. It was quite an education. The kid must be grateful there was no more excitement. A second tiger might not have been as charitable as the first."
Ian handed her one of the chapatis he had brought. After they'd eaten and each had a drink from Laura's canteen, he descended from the machan, then helped his companion down. Her waist was slim and supple under his hands, and he enjoyed touching her even without the undercurrent of sexuality that would have been there before Bokhara. If only...