Anne Mather - Who Rides A Tiger

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Mills & Boon are excited to present The Anne Mather Collection – the complete works by this classic author made available to download for the very first time! These books span six decades of a phenomenal writing career, and every story is available to read unedited and untouched from their original release.“He who rides the tiger, dares not dismount…”When Domique meets her enigmatic employer Vincente Santos, she is swept away on a torrent of feeling – ending in a whirlwind marriage! But soon there is trouble brewing in her Brazillian paradise…When she finds out that Vincente’s motives for making her his wife are not as clear cut as she thought, Dominique is devastated. But she is still willing to risk her heart on the man she believes is her destiny. Being with Vicente is as perilous as riding a tiger – Dominique knows she will never willingly let go, but what if she is thrown…?

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The hills in the morning light were a mixture of shades of grey and blue and brown, sometimes dark and forbidding, and at others green with foliage. In the ravines fast rivers surged unceasingly, while here and there were collections of dwellings, and the upward drift of blue smoke. A road wound between the hills like a dun-coloured snake, disappearing sometimes beneath the overhanging cliffs of hard rock. The shadow of the helicopter moved steadily onwards, and she began to wonder how much longer it would take. Then, suddenly, Salvador began the downward sweep and below she saw a green valley, spreading out as their height decreased, totally at variance with its surroundings. And in the valley she saw the town of Bela Vista.

There were houses on the outskirts of the town, huge affairs with swimming pools and tennis courts, while nearer the city were tall blocks of apartments, and offices, and schools. At the furthest point from the town towered a cluster of machinery and buildings that Dominique presumed must be the refinery and the laboratory where John worked.

The helicopter came down lower and below them Dominique could see a kind of park with a stretch of greenery big enough to take the powerful propellers of the helicopter. Salvador brought the craft level, steadied it, and then put it down neatly on the stretch of green, not far from the bustling main thoroughfare of Bela Vista.

‘So we are here!’ he said, giving her a slight smile. ‘We have landed safely, and there is your fiancé eagerly waiting for you.’

Dominique looked, saw several people at the perimeter of the area, all seeming strange and unfamiliar to her, and for a moment her heart missed a beat. Then she recognized John, but he had changed enormously. He now sported a thick beard and moustache, and his hair had grown rather long since his arrival. He must have had it cut, she supposed, but it was still straggling on the collar of his shirt. Big and broad, dressed in denim slacks and a brilliant orange shirt, he looked almost a stranger.

She got out of the helicopter carefully, with Salvador’s assistance, and then before she had time to hesitate John was beside her, hugging her enthusiastically, pressing his rough cheeks to hers.

‘Dominique, Dominique, Dominique,’ he was saying excitedly. ‘Oh, it’s marvellous to see you, Dominique!’

She struggled to free herself, self-consciously aware of the eyes of the sightseers watching them. Salvador was watching them, too, a strange expression on his face.

‘John!’ she protested, at last. ‘Let me get my breath!’

John gave her a final hug and then, keeping his arm across her shoulders, walked with her across to Salvador.

‘Thanks, Salvador,’ he said casually. ‘Sorry about the mess-up! But these things happen, don’t they?’

‘It was nothing, senhor ,’ replied Salvador carefully.

Dominique noticed that his voice was cold. Obviously, like his master, he didn’t like John much either.

Then they were free to go, and John was leading her across to a low slung blue car and putting her case into the back.

‘Well?’ he said, spreading his hands. ‘What do you think of it?’

Dominique shook her head. She was not yet over her first impressions of John, and his question made her aware of how engrossed she had been with her own feelings to the exclusion of everything else.

‘I – I haven’t had a chance to take much in yet,’ she exclaimed. ‘But from the air it was beautiful. It’s amazing to think that such a place could flourish here, among these mountains.’

‘Yes, isn’t it? Still, you’ll soon get used to it. I’ve been offered a permanent post here and I’m seriously thinking of accepting it.’

Dominique gave him a faint smile. ‘Are you? I thought you only expected to be here about two years.’

‘So I did,’ replied John, turning on the ignition, and starting the engine. ‘But like I said, they’ve offered me a better position, and I like it here now I’ve got used to it. Oh, I know it’s a bit isolated, and some people don’t like the country, but I do. And I’d like to see a lot more of it. I thought we’d take the opportunity on our honeymoon of exploring a bit of the interior. We can hire almost everything we need – tents, sleeping bags, cooking equipment and so on.’

Dominique wrinkled her nose. ‘I thought we were going to Petropolis.’

‘We were. But this is more exciting, don’t you think?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Dominique doubtfully, and it was left at that.

They drove along the Rua Carioca towards the outskirts of the city, and Dominique said: ‘Where is your apartment?’

‘Not far from here. But we’re not going there. The Rawlings have a house, just outside of town, and they’ve invited us both for lunch. That’s who you are staying with, you remember?’

‘Of course.’ Dominique nodded, quelling the feeling of disappointment she felt that she was not to have some time alone with John for a while yet. There were so many things they needed to talk about, and she felt she needed to get to know him all over again. He seemed much different from the well-dressed, gentle young man she had known in England, and it was a little disturbing to realize you were going to marry someone in five weeks who had become a stranger to you. Still, she argued with herself, they would soon change that once they were alone together.

The Rawlings’ house was detached but unobtrusive, without any of the expensive embellishments she had noticed on some of the houses here from the air. Inside, it was dull and unimaginative, and after meeting Marion Rawlings Dominique didn’t have to wonder why.

Marion Rawlings was a woman of about thirty-five, with wheat-coloured hair that could have looked very attractive but didn’t. She wore old-fashioned dresses, which came to well above her knees, making Dominique supremely conscious of the length of her own skirt which had not seemed at all unusual back in London, or Rio either for that matter.

She greeted Dominique with a lack of enthusiasm that was rather daunting, but her husband, Harry, more than made up for it, shaking hands with Dominique vigorously, while his rather narrow-spaced eyes viewed the attractive picture she made with a rather embarrassing intensity. Dominique decided she was not going to find the five weeks before her wedding passing very quickly.

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