Midnight Rainbow by Linda Howard Page B

running up and down her body. Why didn’t he say something else, anything, rather than lying there so quietly? She might as well have been alone. It was unnatural for anyone to be that soundless, that utterly controlled.
    â€œHow was Dad?”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI just wondered.” Was he being deliberately evasive? Why didn’t he want to talk about her father? Perhaps he hadn’t been hired by her father at all and didn’t want to be drawn into a conversation about someone he was supposed to have met, but hadn’t.
    After a measured silence, as if he had carefullyconsidered his answer, he said, “He was worried sick about you. Surprised?”
    â€œNo, of course not,” she said, startled. “I’d be surprised if he weren’t.”
    â€œIt doesn’t surprise you that he’d pay a small fortune to get you out of Turego’s hands, even though you don’t get along with him?”
    He was confusing her; she felt left out of the conversation, as if he were talking about someone else entirely. “What are you talking about? We get along perfectly, always have.”
    She couldn’t see him, couldn’t hear him, but suddenly there was something different about him, as if the very air had become electrically charged. A powerful sense of danger made the fine hairs on her body stand up. The danger was coming from him. Without knowing why, she shrank back from him as far as she could in the confines of the small tent, but there was no escape. With the suddenness of a snake striking, he rolled and pinned her down, forcing her hands over her head and holding them shackled there in a grip that hurt her wrists. “All right, Jane, or Priscilla, or whoever you are, we’re going to talk. I’m going to ask the questions and you’re going to answer them, and you’d better have the right answers or you’re in trouble, sugar. Who are you?”
    Had he gone mad? Jane struggled briefly against the grip on her wrists, but there was no breaking it. His weight bore down heavily on her, controlling her completely. His muscled legs clasped hers, preventing her from even kicking. “W-what…?” she stammered. “Grant, you’re hurting me!”
    â€œAnswer me, damn you! Who are you?”
    â€œJane Greer!” Desperately, she tried to put some humor in her voice, but it wasn’t a very successful effort.
    â€œI don’t like being lied to, sugar.” His voice was velvety soft, and the sound of it chilled her to her marrow. Not even Turego had affected her like this; Turego was a dangerous, vicious man, but the man who held her now was the most lethal person she’d ever seen. He didn’t have to reach for a weapon to kill her; he could kill her with his bare hands. She was totally helpless against him.
    â€œI’m not lying!” she protested desperately. “I’m Priscilla Jane Hamilton Greer.”
    â€œIf you were, you’d know that James Hamilton cut you out of his will several years ago. So you get along with him just perfectly, do you?”
    â€œYes, I do!” She strained against him, and he deliberately let her feel more of his weight, making it difficult for her to breathe. “He did it to protect me!”
    For a long, silent moment in which she could hear the roaring of her blood in her ears, she waited for his reaction. His silence scraped along her nerves. Why didn’t he say something? His warm breath was on her cheek, telling her how close he was to her, but she couldn’t see him at all in that suffocating darkness. “That’s a good one,” he finally responded, and she flinched at the icy sarcasm of his tone. “Too bad I don’t buy it. Try again.”
    â€œI’m telling you the truth! He did it to make me a less attractive kidnap target. It was my idea, damn it!”
    â€œSure it was,” he crooned, and that low, silky sound made her shudder