To Marry a Tiger by Isobel Chace Read Free Book Online Page A

you,” he promised her. “But if my aunt knows of your visit here she will have lost no time in telling my mother. If you had any choice in the matter, I am afraid that you now have none at all! Marry me you will, and soon ! ”
    Ruth knew that she should have felt nothing but misery at the thought, but a curious sense of elation fountained up within her. She had felt at home from the instant she had set foot on Sicilian soil and the prospect of never having to leave the island again could not help appealing to her.
    “But I can’t do that to Pearl!” she exclaimed. “For, whatever you say about her, if you think you have to marry me, you would have felt the same about her!
    Mario’s face fell into its familiar, cynical lines. “I think not,” he said. “No one could possibly imagine that I was the first man Pearl had ever known—”
    “But that’s barbaric!” Ruth exclaimed, shocked.
    His smile mocked her. “It is Sicilian!”
    “Besides being unkind,” Ruth added painfully. “ I don’t think you’re right about Pearl. And even if you are, I don’t think it’s very chivalrous to say so!”
    He said nothing, only smiled with real amusement. “ And ,” Ruth went on, her sense of grievance getting the better of her, “I may not be as pretty as my sister, but I have had some boy-friends of my own!” He was unfeeling enough to laugh aloud. He reached forward and took her face in his hand, forcing her to look at him.
    “No, you’re not as pretty as Pearl!”
    Ruth blushed. “You’re hurting me!” she complained.
    “I am not!” he retorted. “Don’t lie to me, Ruth! And if you really want to know, you’re not pretty at all! But you have the rudiments of beauty. You ought to accentuate your eyes when you make up and do something about your hair. I’ll see that you do when you’re my wife!”
    “Then the occasion will never arise!” Ruth said somewhat smugly.
    His eyes lit. “Is that a challenge?” He came closer still and kissed her gently on the lips. “I never refuse a challenge. Remember that!”
    She was sadly shaken. She watched in a fright as he slowly rose to his feet. He was so very tall and his broken nose gave him a devilish look that scared her. “N-nor do I!” she stammered bravely.
    “Indeed?” She wished he didn’t look quite as though he were enjoying himself so much. “Then I’ll make the necessary arrangements as soon as possible.”
    He was gone before she could think up a sufficiently stinging retort, shutting the communicating door with a sharp click. Her bravery fell away from her and she felt cold and shivery. It was a pretty pickle! She wondered what they would have said in the staff room of the school where she taught, but her imagination failed her. There they had all the correct, liberal ideas of how people ought to behave. They were more likely to discuss the price of food than the archaic customs of a foreign people, with quaint ideas of a woman’s honour and shotgun weddings!
    But there was one thing that disturbed her more than anything else. Despite her fear of him, even her disapproval of him, she found that she liked Mario Verdecchio. She liked his strange humour and the strength in his fingers when he touched her. He was unexpected, and being with him was like a ride on a scenic railway, as exhilarating as it was frightening. Of course it was ridiculous to consider, even for a minute, that she would marry him, but she couldn’t help thinking that life was going to be very tame back in England, in the school where she taught, when he wouldn’t be there to taunt her.
    Saro went to the door and whined gently, looking sorrowfully over his shoulder at her.
    “I’m coming,” she told him.
    There was one thing about a dog, he gave one something to do. Ruth dressed quickly and went downstairs with him into the rough garden at the side of the house. There was a path that went steeply uphill and through a clump of cypress trees. Saro went first, his tail