Free The Tiger Prince by Iris Johansen

entered the room.
    The muscles of his abdomen clenched and his loins immediately hardened in response. Easy, he told himself, he was here for a purpose other than what his body demanded. Easy? The thought was ludicrous; at this moment both calmness and reason were out of the question. She was here.
    Soon he would know more about her than ever before.
    Soon he would touch her for the first time.
    •     •     •
    Jane heard the key turn in the lock of the door behind her. Another click sounded in the lock on the only other door across the chamber. She was a prisoner.
    Her chest was tight with fear. The caged feeling reminded her of the helplessness she had experienced when she had stood sandwiched between Pachtal and Abdar on that lonely street only a few weeks before.
    Darkness hovered over the chamber lightened only by a single oil lamp on the table beside her, and the heavy scent of musk and incense pressed down on her.
    “At last. Come here and let me look at you.”
    She froze, her glance flying across the room to the man lying on the bed.
    In the dimness she could tell only that he was naked and lying on his side facing her. His cheek rested on his hand as his gaze slowly ran over her. “Unusual. It seems Zabrie took me at my word.”
    This time she caught the slight brogue in the words. The Scot, Jane remembered, the man whom Zabrie had ordered brought here, the man who had wanted something different. “Zabrie will come to you later. She’s busy now.”
    “But she sent you to entertain me?” He crooked his finger, motioning for her to come to him. “Don’t be nervous. I don’t mind. I told her I was in the mood for an English lass.”
    He had mistaken her panic for nervousness at his displeasure. She would have laughed if she hadn’t been so frightened. “I’m not English and I’m not nervous. You don’t understand.”
    “I understand I’m going to be a little annoyed if you don’t come over here and let me see what you look like.” She moved reluctantly to stand beside the bed. “I’m sure Zabrie will not be—”
    Dear God, he was the most beautiful human being she had ever seen. He was all lion colors, golden skin, tawny hair pulled back in a queue to reveal a bone structurethat was close to perfect. But his eyes were blue, not a catlike green or yellow, a deep, piercing blue….
    He lifted a brow. “How long before Zabrie arrives?”
    She had forgotten what she had been about to say. She swiftly gathered her composure. “Just be patient.”
    He chuckled. “This isn’t a situation where patience comes easily.” He gestured to his lower body. “As you can see.”
    Her gaze followed the gesture and she inhaled sharply as she saw bold, pulsing arousal, splendid dimension. She quickly looked back to his face. “Zabrie will be here soon.”
    “It’s not Zabrie who made me like this. You walked in the door and I wanted you.” She stared at him in disbelief.
    “It came as a surprise to me too. I didn’t expect it. In those masculine clothes you certainly don’t look very appealing.” He reached out and grasped her wrist. “Take them off,” he said softly.
    Her flesh under his grasp felt strange, hot, tingling, and she was experiencing a queer breathlessness. “No.”
    “You prefer that I do it?” He pulled her down to a sitting position on the bed beside him. His light eyes narrowed on her face, holding her gaze. The scent of him surrounded her, soap and spice and something deeper, darker, blending with the incense-laden air. “Why not?” he murmured. “I might find it interesting changing a boy into a woman.”
    “I didn’t say that I wanted—”
    He started unbuttoning her shirt.
    She instinctively jerked back.
    He quickly grasped both her wrists in one hand. “Shh, it’s all right.” His other hand moved from the buttons to pet her breasts through the material. “I just want to see you.” He smiled as he looked down at the protrusion of her nipples against