Iris Johansen by The Ladyand the Unicorn Page B

gown as impersonally as if he were dressing a small child, pulling the jersey over her shoulder before swiftly zipping the back. “But I’m not going to let you gain that kind of power over me until I can be sure I mean more to you than the payoff of a debt.” He straightened slowly and looked down at her with narrowed eyes. “I’ve discoveredthat you’re a very dangerous lady as far as I’m concerned, Janna. You’re fast becoming something of an obsession, and I’m not at all pleased with the situation. I’ve become accustomed to being totally in control of my life and emotions. I won’t be put into a position where either one can be manipulated.”
    Janna experienced a queer thrust of pain that pierced the sensual mist that had enveloped her. What had she been thinking of, to be so beguiled by the sexual expertise of a man like Santine? That he considered her dangerous was almost laughable when viewed in the light of his threat to her. As he had said, Santine liked to be in complete control, and she’d already discovered how possessive he could be. He would never tolerate the personal freedom that was essential to her even if he came to care for her. And that possibility was probably very slim indeed, she thought wryly. She’d been offered lust, not love, tonight.
    She sat up straight and looked up at him steadily. “Then wouldn’t it be wiser to send me away?” she asked coolly. “That would solve all your problems.”
    “Would it?” Santine’s lips twisted. “Somehow I don’t think so. I have an idea that I’d last about a day before I sent someone to bring you back to me.” His hand reached out, as if compulsively, to touch her thick, lustrous braid. “Like I said, it’s an obsession.” He pulled his hand away reluctantly and drew a deep breath. “No, you’ll stay with me until I can rid myself of it. They say that nearness breeds boredom, and it always has before for me.” He smiled mockingly. “You’ll be my little pet, whom I can stroke or ignore at will. And when I’ve regained my perspective enough to take you to bed without its meaning a thing, I’m going to make love to that gorgeous body in every way I can think of.”
    He turned and strode swiftly out of the gazebo and down the path toward the woods beyond.
    •     •     •
    In the next week it seemed Santine was determined to treat Janna as the pet he had termed her. He insisted that she not only eat all her meals with him, but that she be his constant companion no matter what activity he was engaged in. Janna found herself playing chess, going for long sunrise swims, and listening to records on Santine’s magnificent stereo system. Even when he was involved in business with Dawson or one of the vice presidents who flew in for an occasional meeting when urgency demanded, she was ordered to be present. This usually meant that she sat quietly curled up in Santine’s brown leather chair with a book she seldom bothered even to pretend to read.
    Santine in action was much more fascinating to study than the most interesting printed word. He was brisk, dynamic, and totally brilliant. In addition, he had a driving energy that was almost boundless, and an incisiveness that cut unerringly to the marrow of any subject he was confronted with. If this was Rafe Santine at leisure, she wondered ruefully what he must be like when he was operating at full strength. Even when he was occupied with supposed leisure pursuits, he exhibited a restlessness and competitiveness Janna found simply astounding. She had a shrewd idea that more than big business was a game to Rafe Santine. Every facet of his life seemed to fall into that category, and he played it with keen gusto.
    She gradually discovered there were other, more human characteristics to admire in Santine than the drive and the brilliance that had made him a legend. He possessed a wry sense of humor that surfaced unexpectedly from time to time to surprise and delight her, and,