Liars and Tigers (15 page)

"Let
me see."

"No."

"Turn
over, Misha," Alex said, taking the tray from her and making a rolling
gesture with his finger.

"I
hate you," she muttered, obeying.

"Please
don't say that. It really hurts my feelings," Alex said softly, as he ran
his hands over her tender mounds. He was pleased to see that the only visible
reminder of the switching was a sprinkling of tiny bruises on the right side of
her cheeks from where the tips had landed.

"Sorry,"
Misha muttered. "Where's Rodin?"

"In
his crate. I wanted to have a few minutes alone with you, and knew he would not
only want to climb into your lap, but also steal your bacon."

"I
don't know what you see in me, Alex," Misha sighed, turning over and
covering her breasts again. "I'm broken beyond repair."

"No
one is broken beyond repair. And you," he took the sheets from her hands
and pulled them down to expose her breasts, "are everything I ever wanted.
Even when you're naughty."

Misha
blushed as his hand traveled from her hand up her arm, his fingers grazing
delicately over her skin. She moved her eyes to follow his stroking as his
fingers trailed across her shoulders, down the length of her throat and between
her breasts. Alex paused and slowly drew back.

"It's
not right. Not now. Excuse me," he said, his voice choking as he quickly left
the room. He closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall with his
eyes closed. What was he thinking? She was too vulnerable right now.
What an idiot I am!

"Alex?"
Misha opened the door and peeked out. She was wrapped in a sheet and her hair
was in disarray. She had never looked more beautiful. "Why did you
leave?"

"I
can't do this to you, baby. I love you. I want you to come to me because you
love me, not because you feel forced or manipulated. I'm sorry."

"Sorry
for what?" Misha asked, standing in front of him and looking up with
golden-specked eyes. "For playing the game that we both started? I knew
what you were doing, and I suspect that you were aware of my knowledge."

"I'm
sorry." He looked away.

Misha
lifted her hands to touch his face, letting the sheet fall to the floor.
"You were on a hunt to capture me. I allowed myself to be captured. I love
you, Alex. I love you."

"I
don't want to hurt you, Misha. I don't want to be the overbearing, arrogant
jerk boss of yours. I want to be your husband one day."

Misha
stepped back, picked up the sheets from the floor, and wrapped them around her
body, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and surprise. "You want to
marry me?"

"Yeah,
I want to marry you. We are good together, Mish. We haven't fought one time
since we got to know each other. I don't go off the handle like I used to, and
you are calmer and more self-assured than I have ever seen you. Where are you
going?"

"To
my room. I need to think. Alone," Misha said, running from him as fast as
she was able.

Alex
watched her departure and sighed deeply. He'd blown it, possibly for good.

***

Misha
closed her bedroom door behind her and dropped the sheets to the floor. She
looked at herself in the large mirror over the dresser and shook her head. Her
eyes and nose were still slightly swollen from the tears she'd shed the night
before, and her blonde hair looked as though she had walked through a wind
tunnel. Her skin was pale gold and, being an avid user of sunscreen, she was
spared the 'farmer's tan'. She had a slender build, but the soft curves of her
hips and breasts were very womanly. Her stomach turned, realizing that she had
stood naked before a man for the first time since Carlos had sculpted her all
those years ago.

Panic
seized her. If she didn't do what Alex wanted, she would lose her job—and
Rodin! But she couldn't afford her own place, not yet. She studied her body in
the mirror. She had matured since her time in Vegas, and her body was softer,
more subtle. She glanced at Rodin sleeping in his crate. He was small enough to
transport, and feeding him was not expensive just yet. Maybe if…

"Hello?"
a thickly accented man answered the phone.

"Carlos?
It's me, Misha."

"Misha?
My Danaid? Someone bought you from me. How I miss your likeness gracing my
studio."

"How
much did you get for that piece, Carlos?"

"Mon
chère! To ask such a thing?"

"I
ask because it was bought for me. What is it worth?" Misha asked.

"The
man, he paid twenty-five for it."

"Twenty-five
hundred?"

"Twenty-five
thousand. It is unique, one of a kind." There was pride in his voice.

"I
want you to buy it back."

Carlos
was quiet. "Does this man know you wish to sell her?"

"He
gave it to me and I can do with it as I please. I need the money. I need to buy
myself a ranch."

"Come
work for me again. I pay you well, yes?"

Misha
hesitated. "You don't even know what I look like now. It's been years
since you've seen me."

"Your
beauty goes beyond the flesh, my Misha. Please, come and talk. We can make
something beautiful together again."

"I
have nowhere to stay." Misha glanced at the cub. "I also have my
cat."

"I
have a big house outside the city with plenty of room. You can stay as long as
you like. Bring your cat. Maybe I make him into a beautiful piece too,
yes?"

"He
is lovely. I don't know…"

"We
can let him chase mice and squirrels. He will be happy, and so will you.
Please, come. I am alone here and would like your company to grace my table
once again."

"Let
me see what I can do. I have several weeks of vacation owed me…"

Misha
avoided Alex for the rest of the day, remaining in her room and not answering
the knocks on her door except when he brought food for Rodin, and took him for
a walk so the tiger could relieve himself. Alex had little to say to her as
well, not even trying to start a conversation.

Misha
could not understand why she was so angry. Or was it hurt? She refused to admit
that it was pure fear that made her want to run. That, and the secret hope that
he would come after her. She leaned her forehead against the wall and tried to
sort out the big knot of confusion that consisted of her thoughts and feelings.

She
waited until the sun set, listening for the tell-tale signs of Alex readying
himself for bed. The front door closing loudly, the beeping of the house alarm,
the sound of his loading the dishwasher; and finally, his heavy footsteps
ascending the stairs. Her heart ached when she realized that he was not even
going to try to say good night to her. It was the first time since she had
lived there that they had not spent any time together, even just talking.

***

Misha
woke at four in the morning and packed her backpack. Guilt plagued her as she
left a note on the coffee maker, telling him that she needed some space and was
heading up north for a few days. She had signed it 'with love', and said that
she hoped he would understand that she could not give him what he
wanted—that she was too broken to make him, or anyone else, happy. After
disarming the alarm, she slipped outside with her backpack slung over her left
shoulder, and Rodin in his crate weighing heavily in her right hand. She
watched the house for lights, holding her breath as she started her truck.
Silently, she drove away from the place she had called home, and the man she
was hopelessly in love with.

The
drive to Las Vegas took less than four hours and she followed the directions to
Carlos's adobe house, which was located just outside of the city. After walking
the tiger cub, she approached the heavy wooden door and knocked.

Her
heart pounded as she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Would he send
her back home once he learned that she had run away?

"Misha!
It is good to see you. And this? A cat?" Carlos proclaimed, hugging her
and looking down at the curious cub. "He has a name?"

"Rodin.
Thank you for letting me come see you. I needed some time to clear my
head."

"Of
course, of course! Come in. Can I get you something to eat? You need some meat
on your bones, my Misha. Men like softness and curves," the artist tsked,
twirling her around in front of him, appraising her. "Your buttocks have
rounded out nicely, and your breasts are still quite high. Yes, I can make a
creation that will bring the Gods to their knees, and have them tremble in awe
when they look upon its beauty."

"You
said that eight years ago when you sculpted me. Just coffee please. And some
ice for Rodin. He's excited, and I don't want him puking all over the
place," Misha laughed.

While
Rodin explored the enclosed back yard, Carlos inquired about Misha's life since
he had last seen her. He steepled his fingers, watching her eyes as she spoke
of school, her job and Rodin.

"Hmm,
your mouth says one thing, but your eyes, another. Who is this man? The one who
bought you from me."

"He
bought the Danaid as a gift for me because he know that Rodin was my favorite
artist."

"The
wounds!" Carlos dramatically held his hand over his heart. "I thought
I was your favorite artist."

"
You
are my favorite
living
artist, Carlos."

"I
want you to pose as Iris for me," Carlos said bluntly.

Misha
paled. "Rodin's Iris? Carlos, that would be, well, obscene! The whole
piece focuses on the, well, you know!"

"A
woman's garden is as beautiful as the sunrise. There is no shame in the human
body."

"Are
you going to cut off my head and my arm? And that position," Misha shuddered.
"I am not a pretzel."

"Iris
is to be sculpted, not displayed. You need money, no?"

"No,
I mean yes, I need money. I need to buy my own place so that I can keep Rodin.
That is, if Alex doesn't take him from me for leaving," Misha said sadly.

"Why
did you leave this man? You love him, no?"

"Oh
Carlos, how can I even begin to tell you how I feel about him? He's smart, and
handsome and generous," Misha lamented. "He makes me feel alive and
beautiful. He is strong and secure, and won't allow me to do stupid
things."

"Like
run away?" Carlos asked wisely.

"Yeah,
like run away. I lied to him and said I was going up north, to throw him
off."

"But
he is intelligent and cunning, yes?" Then, when Misha nodded, "He
will find you then. And when he does, will you return to him?"

"He
blackmailed me into falling in love with him."

"Ah,
Misha," Carlos took her hand in his. "Does it matter how love
happens? No, it only matters that it does happen. You've searched for love your
entire life. Your friend, Jack, gave you a taste, as did I. But this type of
love, the one between you and this man, is a gift."

"I
don't know what to do, Carlos," Misha broke into tears. Rodin raced to her
and jumped in her lap to comfort her. "He wants to marry me. I can't do
that to him."

"Do
what to him? Love him? Marry him? Have his babies? My girl, these things come
in time. Don't waste precious moments worrying about something you cannot
change. You are, what is the expression for when an infant becomes connected
with its parent?"

"Imprinting?"

"Yes,
you are imprinted on one another's hearts. Give your mind a chance to catch up
to what your heart already knows."

"What
if it's too late? My leaving will hurt him." She sniffed.

"What
does the tiger do when he wishes to mate?"

Misha
thought about it. "He sniffs out a female in heat and takes her."

"Trust
that your tiger will sniff you out, mi amore," Carlos winked, "and
that he will take you as his, whether or not you are prepared."

Alex's
hand trembled as he read, and re-read, Misha's letter. He did not know whether
to be angry, hurt, frightened, or amused. Of course he'd expected her to react
poorly to the thought of commitment, but this move was a rash one.

"Jack?
I need your help," Alex said, his chin holding the phone in place as he
threw some clothes into a gym bag.

"Sure,
Boss. What can I do you for?"

"I
need you to come to the house and keep an eye on Kena and the pups. The breeder
is coming tomorrow to check them out but I won't be here."

"Going
on a trip with Mish?"

"No,
going on a trip to find her. She took off. I blew it. I told her I had set her
up and wanted to marry her. She claimed she knew all about it and had trapped
me instead."

"That
sounds like her. Where do you think she went?"

"She
said up north. That's not all. She took Rodin," Alex said.