Iris Johansen - The Tiger Prince

The Tiger Prince

Iris Johansen

TheMask

He rose to his feet and movedover to the table by the door and was surrounded by the pool of light cast bythe oil lamp. She tried not to look at him, but to no avail. Dear heaven, hewas as beautifully exotic as a jungle animal and just as free from shame.

A faint smile touched his lips."This must have been meant for you."

On the table was an extravagantfeathered mask of brown, black, and turquoise peacock feathers. "Prettything. I'd like to see you in it." He held up the mask to his own eyes."Would you care to oblige me?"

The exotic feathered maskcovered the entire top of his face and a spray of sable peacock feathers juttedout on either side. His blue eyes shimmered through the almond-shaped holes andthe close fit of the mask enhanced the beautiful molding of his cheekbones.

He looked wild, wicked, andcompletely male, a rare, splendid creature from an alien land.

BANTAMBOOKS

NEWYORK TORONTO LONDON SYDNEY AUCKLAND

Prologue

Promontory Point, Utah

November 25, 1869

Wait!

Dear God, he hadn't heard her.He was still striding across the wooden platform toward the train. In a momenthe would be out of reach.

Panic soared through JaneBarnaby and she broke into a run, the faded skirts of her calico gownballooning behind her. Ignoring the pain caused by the ice shards piercing herfeet through the holes in the thin soles of her boots, she tore throughice-coated mud puddles down the wheel-rutted street toward the platform over ahundred yards away. "Please! Don't go!

Patrick Reilly's expressionwas only a blur in the post-dawn grayness, but he must have heard her call, forhe hesitated for an instant before continuing toward the train, his long legsquickly covering the distance between the station house and the passengerrailway car.

He was leaving her.

Fear caught in her throat, andshe desperately tried to put on more speed. The train was already vibrating,puffing, flexing its metal muscles as it prepared to spring forward down thetrack. "Wait for me!"

He kept his face turnedstraight ahead, ignoring her.

Anger, fired by desperation,flared within her and she bellowed, "Dammit, do you hear me? Don't you dareget on that train!"

He stopped in mid-stride, hisbig shoulders braced militantly beneath the gray-checked coarse wool of hiscoat. He turned with a frown to watch her dashing toward him down the platform.

She skidded to a stop beforehim. "I'm goin' with you."

"The hell you are. I toldyou last night at Frenchie's you were to stay here."

"You gotta take me."

"I don't have to donothin'." He scowled down at her. "Go back to your ma. She'll belooking for you."

"No, she won't." Shetook a step closer to him. "You know all she cares about is her pipe. Shedon't care where I am. She won't mind if I go with you."

He shook his head.

"You know it'strue." Jane moistened her lips. "I'm goin' with you. She doesn't wantme. She never wanted me."

"Well, I don't want youeith" A flush deepened his already ruddy cheeks, and his Irish broguethickened as he said awkwardly, "No offense, but I don't have no use for akid in my life."

"I'm not so little, I'malmost twelve." It was only a small lie; she had just turned eleven, buthe probably wouldn't remember that. She took another step closer. "Yougotta take me. I belong to you."

"How many times do I haveto tell you? I'm not your father."

"My mother said it wasmost likely you." She touched a strand of the curly red hair floppingabout her thin face. "Our hair is the same, and you visited her a lotbefore she went on the pipe."

"So did half the men ofthe Union Pacific." His expression softened as he suddenly knelt in frontof her. "Lots of Irishmen have red hair, Jane. Hell, I can name four menon my own crew who used to be Pearl's regulars. Why not pick on one ofthem?"

Because she desperately wantedit to be him. He was kinder to her than any of the other men who paid hermother for her body. Patrick Reilly was drunk more than he was sober when hecame to Frenchie's tent, but he never hurt the women like some men did and eventreated Jane with a rough affection whenever he saw her around. "It'syou." Her jaw set stubbornly. "You can't know for certain it's notyou."

His jaw set with equalobstinacy. "And you don't know for certain it is me. So why don't you goback to Frenchie's and leave me alone? Christ, I wouldn't even know how to takecare of you."

"Take care of me?"She stared at him in bewilderment. "Why should you do that? I take care ofmyself."

For an instant a flicker ofcompassion crossed his craggy features. "I guess you've had to do enoughof that all right. With your ma sucking on that damn opium pipe and growing upin that pimp's hovel."

She immediately pounced on thehint of softening. "I won't be a bother to you. I don't eat much and I'llstay out of your way." He was beginning to frown again, and she went onhurriedly. "Except when you have something for me to do, of course. I'm ahard worker. Ask anyone at Frenchie's. I empty slops and help in the kitchen. Isweep and mop and run errands. I can count and take care of money. Frenchieeven has me time the customers on Saturday night and tell them when they've hadtheir money's worth." She grasped his arm. "I promise I'll doanything you want me to do. Just take me with you."

"Hell, you don'tunder" He was silent a moment, gazing at her pleading face beforemuttering, "Look, I'm a railroad man. It's all I know and my job here isover now that the tracks have been joined. I've got an offer to boss my owncrew in Salisbury and that's a big chance for an ignorant mick like me. Salisbury'sway across the ocean in England. You don't want to go that far away."

"Yes, I do. I don't carewhere we go." Her small hand tightened on his arm. "Try me. I promiseyou won't be sorry."

"The devil I won't besorry." His tone was suddenly impatient as he shook off her grasp and roseto his feet. "I won't be saddled with no whore's kid for the rest of mylife. Go back to Frenchie's." He started toward the train again.

The rejection frightened butdidn't surprise her. She had been rejected all her life by everyone but theinhabitants of Frenchie's crib and had learned long ago she wasn't like thechildren of the respectable wives who followed the railroad crews from town totown. They belonged in a world of clean crisp gowns, Saturday night baths, andchurch on Sunday mornings while she...

Jane felt suddenly sick asmemories flooded back to her of the lantern-lit haze of Frenchie's tent, wherethe cots were separated only by dirty blankets hung on sagging ropes, thesweetish smell of the opium her mother smoked from the funny-looking glass bowlby her cot, Frenchie's hard palm striking her cheek when she wasn't quickenough to do his bidding.

She couldn't go back tothat now that escape was so near.

Her nails dug into her palmsas her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "It will do you no good toleave me. I'll only follow you."

He reached the train andplaced his left foot on the metal step.

"I will. Youbelong to me."

"The hell I do."

"I'll follow you to thisSaddlebury and"

"Salisbury, and you'dhave to swim the goddamn ocean."

"I'll do it. I'll find away. You'll see that I'll find a way to" Her voice broke and she had tostop.

"Dammit." His headlowered, his gaze fixed on the ridged metal of the step. "Why the hell doyou have to be so damned stubborn?"

"Take me," shewhispered. She did not know what else to say, what to offer him. "Please.If I stay, I'm scared someday I'll be like her. I... don't like it there."

He stood there, his shouldershunched as moment after moment passed. "Oh, what the hell!" Hewhirled, jumped back down on the platform. His big, freckled hands grasped herwaist and he effortlessly picked her up and lifted her onto the train."Jesus, you're tiny. You don't weigh anything at all."