Free Eye of the Tiger by Diana Palmer Page A

say something similar, years before, about not knowing if he was liked for himself or what he could provide.
    “I’d like you if you didn’t have a dime,” she told Wade. “You’re pretty refreshing yourself. For someone who’s filthy rich, that is,” she said.
    He smiled at her over his wineglass. “Having fun?”
    “Yes. Are you?”
    “Oh, this could definitely become a habit,” he said, lifting the glass to his lips. “How about dessert?”
    She smiled back. He had a nice face. Very dark. No freckles….
    Just as that registered, Keegan walked through the door of the restaurant with the Irish girl on his arm, and Eleanor wanted to go through the floor.
    Wade glanced up, chuckling. “I’ll be damned. You’dthink he was following us around, wouldn’t you? Hey, Keegan!” he called.
    Keegan spotted him with Eleanor and smiled easily, drawing the Irish girl along with him.
    “Well, what a coincidence,” Keegan said. “Wade, Eleanor, I’d like you to meet my houseguest, Maureen O’Clancy. Maureen, Wade Granger and Eleanor Whitman.”
    Wade rose, smiling as he took Maureen’s dainty hand. “How lovely to see you again,” he murmured with his most wicked smile as he lifted her hand to his lips.
    “How nice to see you again, too,” the Irish girl replied in her delicately accented tones. “We enjoyed our visit to your farm.” Her blue eyes smiled at Wade, and then she seemed to notice Eleanor. “Haven’t we met before?” she asked.
    “At the Blakes’ party,” Keegan prompted.
    “Ah, yes.” Maureen made the connection and smiled cattily. “Your father is one of Keegan’s carpenters, I believe?”
    “How kind of you to remember,” Eleanor returned without blinking. “Isn’t it wonderful how democratic Lexington society is? I mean, letting the hired help attend social functions—”
    “Let’s sit down, Maureen,” Keegan interrupted quickly, recognizing too easily the set of Eleanor’s proud head and the tone of her voice. “Nice to see you both.”
    He all but dragged Maureen away while Wade tried but failed to smother a grin.
    “Hellcat,” Wade accused as he sat back down. “That was nasty.”
    “Do you really think so?” Eleanor asked, her bright eyes smiling at him. “Thank you!”
    He shook his head. “I can see real possibilities in you, Eleanor,” he mused. “You’d be the ideal wife for a businessman—you can hold your own with the cats.”
    “I came up hard,” she told him. “You sprout claws or get buried. She’s interesting, though,” she added, glancing at the corner table where Keegan and Maureen were just being seated. “Imagine how many years of training it must have taken to get her nose at just that exalted angle….”
    “Shame on you!” he chided. “Here, eat your trifle and let’s go. I want to get home in time to play your father a game of chess.”
    She gaped at him as he pushed the delicate pudding in front of her.
    “Well, he likes chess, doesn’t he?” he asked innocently. “I’ll even let him win,” he added, rubbing his hands together.
    “He beats Keegan,” she volunteered. “And Keegan tries.”
    He whistled. “Keegan beats everybody.”
    “Not this time,” she said under her breath, and glancing toward the corner table, she smiled through a wave of pain. Old times and old tactics, she thought. Keegan, playing women off against each other, and the Irish girl didn’t even know it. Perhaps she didn’t care, either. But Eleanor did. She felt as though Keegan had always belonged to her, and it was hard seeing him with someone else.
    It was understandable that she might feel that way, she told herself. After all, Keegan had been her first man. She only wished that it didn’t hurt quite so much. She didn’t dare let him see that it bothered her, either. He already thought, with some good reason, that she was vulnerable to him. It wouldn’t do to let him know exactly how vulnerable.
    So when he looked up from the Irish girl’s