Free Who Rides the Tiger by Anne Mather Page A

a dinner suit, its white jacket faultlessly pressed.
    'Good evening, Miss Mallory,' he said politely. 'Mr. Harding.'
    'Oh, hello there, Salvador,' said John, rather awkwardly. 'Will you tell Mr. Santos we're here?'
    Dominique felt her stomach flutter uncomfortably. All of a sudden she wanted to turn and run, as she had run before. She wanted to escape from whatever it was that was compelling her to stay. But of course she remained calm, and when Salvador asked them to follow him, she did so, her legs obeying the dictates of her brain.
    They crossed the terrace and entered the house through French doors into a long low lounge. Dominique registered that its decorations were coolly blue and green, and that there were some magnificent curtains at the windows, and then they emerged out of the house again. The lounge apparently ran from front to back, and it was here, on a wide paved patio, that Vincente Santos and his guests were taking pre-dinner drinks.
    The patio was discreetly lit by coach lamps, and here was another magnificent view of the valley. To the right, Dominique could vaguely distinguish formal gardens, and a swimming pool which seemed to curve out of sight, overhung with flowering shrubs in places.
    But the guests on the patio, lounging gracefully in comfortable chairs caught her immediate attention, and she was glad she had chosen to wear the black dress. There were more dramatic creations here.
    Then Vincente Santos detached himself from a group of people and came to greet them. In a dark dinner suit, his linen immaculate, his thin face wearing a strange expression, Dominique thought he was easily the most interesting man there, even though some of the men were more handsome. His lean hard body made John look rather clumsy and over-fed, and she closed her eyes for a moment, willing these thoughts away.
    Then he was saying: 'Good evening, Harding. I'm so glad you could come and bring your most charming fiancee.'
    John seemed tongue-tied and youthful. 'Thank you for inviting us, senhor ,' he said hastily. 'It's a beautiful place you have here!'
    'Yes, beautiful,' agreed Vincente Santos sardonically, but he was not looking at the view, he was looking at Dominique. 'And how are you this evening, Miss Mallory? Well, I trust.'
    'I - I'm fine, thank you, Mr. Santos,' replied Dominique, trying not to sound nervous.
    Vincente Santos gave her a slight smile, and then said: 'Claudia, come here a moment. I want you to meet Mr. Harding and Miss Mallory.'
    A girl came to join them. She was a redhead, her hair a riot of tawny curls. She was wearing a culotte suit of floral silk that shimmered as she moved. She was smaller than Dominique, and rather more voluptuously built.
    'Yes, Vincente?' she murmured, looking up at him intimately.
    'Claudia, show Mr. Harding around, would you? Introduce him to my other guests while I do the same for Miss Mallory.'Dominique sensed John's disapproval, but there was nothing either of them could do about it. The girl Claudia was leading John away and she was left with Vincente Santos.
    However, Vincente was not prepared to embarrass her yet awhile and taking her elbow in his fingers he guided her across to a group of people and began making introductions. Dominique estimated that there must be about twenty guests altogether, but their names became indistinguishable in her mind. She only recalled Frederick Rivas and his wife Alicia. And that was because she had already heard John mention her name. She accepted a Martini cocktail and a cigarette, and managed to make polite conversation with anyone who spoke to her. Vincente seemed quite content to remain in the background, watching her, watching the impression she made on his guests.
    Certainly the male members of the party gravitated in her direction. Not only was she very attractive, but she had a keen sense of humour and could parry their comments quite naturally. Surprisingly, she did not feel out of her element as she had expected to do, and