Iris Johansen (3 page)

Janna’s eyes widened in surprise as she finally realized what he thought her. “I think there’s some misunderstanding,” she said softly. “I haven’t come to offer you what you seem to think, Mr. Santine. In fact I haven’t come to offer you anything at all. I’m here to ask you to contribute a rather large tract of property you own to a very good cause.”

There was an odd flicker in the depths of Santine’s eyes. “You’re rather an unconventional charity canvasser, Miss Cannon,” he said softly. “But I must admit you’ve caught my interest. What property am I to deed to your splendid cause?”

“You own eighteen hundred acres about eighty miles southwest of Los Angeles,” Janna replied, her
brown eyes grave. “We need that property desperately, Mr. Santine.”

“Pat?” Santine fired at his assistant, without taking his eyes off Janna.

“She must be referring to the tract owned by your Camino Real Estate subsidiary,” Dawson supplied briskly. “It’s been scheduled for a commercial development early next year.” He paused. “You recently turned down an offer in the area of two million dollars for it.”

Janna could feel a sinking sensation in her stomach. Though she realized that California real estate was exorbitantly expensive, she’d had no idea that this particular property was so valuable.

Santine darted an amused glance at Dawson. “And you thought Diane was expensive,” he murmured wryly. His gaze returned to Janna with a lingering amusement. “I’m curious to know why you think I’d turn over a valuable piece of real estate to you out of the goodness of my heart. I hadn’t realized that I’d acquired the reputation of being quite such a philanthropist.”

There was a sound from Dawson that was halfway between a snort and a delicate cough. “Sorry,” he said solemnly.

“Pat doesn’t share your views, evidently,” Santine said dryly. “And he knows me better than a good many people. Doesn’t that discourage you, Miss Cannon?”

It did, but she couldn’t let him know that. “I can’t afford to be discouraged, Mr. Santine,” she murmured. “We must have that land.”

“That’s a sizable piece of property,” he said cynically. “You do think big, Miss Cannon. Tell me, what worthy organization do you represent?”

“We’re going to need every acre,” she said solemnly. “It’s not greed, but necessity, that’s driving me to you. I’m a game warden and curator at a wild-animal reserve near San Diego. Our lease has been broken,
and we have only another two weeks before we’ll have to start rounding up the animals and shipping them to zoos if we can’t find another home for them.” Her lips tightened resolutely. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

“A wild-animal reserve,” Santine said slowly. “Yes, you would need a large amount of acreage for that. But why
my
land?”

“The climate in that area is mild and the terrain basically what the animals are accustomed to at our own reserve,” Janna replied eagerly. “It’s very important that they not be exposed to any abrupt or radical changes. Your property would be ideal.”

“How kind of you to say so,” Santine said ironically. He strolled over to a huge brown leather easy chair and dropped into it, stretching his legs out lazily in front of him on the matching ottoman. “And why is it so important that these specimens have no shocks to their fragile psyches?”

Ignoring the mockery in his face, Janna answered swiftly. “Because we’re dealing primarily with endangered species. The reason Professor Sandler first established the reserve was to provide a natural environment to encourage the breeding potential of several species of wildlife that refused to reproduce in captivity. If we can’t find a way of persuading them to mate, there’s a very real possibility that they may soon be extinct.”

“How regrettable,” Santine said coolly, his impenetrable gaze fixed on her face that was now alight with passion. “It seems to mean a great deal to you, but I don’t see how you can expect me to share your enthusiasm. I can’t say that I’ve ever been overly fond of animals.” One thick dark brow arched mockingly. “I’ve never even kept one as a pet.”

“You don’t have to be sentimental over animals to admit that we have a duty to preserve them,” she argued desperately. “If you believe that Darwin’s theory of evolution was essentially correct, then you
must believe that we have a responsibility to encourage the evolution of our fellow species. If you believe that God put us in the Garden of Eden for a purpose, then you must know that it’s the gravest of sins to kill off our companions in that garden. Either way, we have a moral obligation that can’t be denied.”

“That very neatly covers all the bases,” Santine drawled, a glint of admiration in his eyes. “And very eloquently put, too. Your Professor Sandler is obviously a wise gentleman.”

“He’s quite brilliant and completely dedicated,” Janna said simply. “You couldn’t ask for anyone finer to head a project like this. He’d be happy to come and detail our plans for the new reserve in depth with you.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m quite content with his deputy,” Santine said, a tiny frown creasing his brow. “Your professor seems to inspire a surprising amount of devotion in his employees. He must be quite a man.”

Janna nodded eagerly. “Yes, he’s really wonderful, and so worried about the closing of the reserve. We’re staying at a motel in town. May I call him and tell him that you’re at least considering contributing the land?”

Santine gazed at her for a long moment, his dark eyes veiled and thoughtful. “Yes, I think you could say that I’m considering your request, Miss Cannon.” There was a shocked exclamation from a stunned Pat Dawson, and Santine turned to give him a mocking smile. “It’s not all that insane, Pat,” he drawled. “Remember, it will be tax-deductible. In my income bracket, I need all the deductions and shelters I can arrange, according to my accountants.” Then, as Dawson continued to stare at him with his mouth agape, he ordered briskly, “Why don’t you run along to your office and give this Professor Sandler a call? Tell him that Miss Cannon and I are discussing the terms of my contribution.”

Dawson rose swiftly to his feet, his face wiped clear of all expression. “Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it right away, Mr. Santine.” He turned to Janna. “If you’ll furnish me with the phone number, Miss Cannon?”

She obediently fumbled in the pocket of her khaki slacks for the paper with David’s number on it and put it into Dawson’s outstretched hand, her dazed eyes still fixed in wonderment on Santine’s expressionless face. “It’s room 26B,” she said automatically.

After all the heartrending anxiety they’d had about their problems, was the solution going to be as easy as this? Rafe Santine waved his magic scepter and suddenly everything was resolved. She was vaguely conscious of Dawson’s swift withdrawal, as the library door closed softly behind him. “You’re going to give it to us,” she whispered, feeling almost ill with relief. “You’re actually going to do it?”

“I didn’t say that,” he replied coolly. “I said that I’d consider it.” He took his feet off the ottoman and pushed it away from him with one foot. “Now, come here and sit down and tell me why I should give you a gift worth more than two million dollars.”

Janna felt her hopes deflate as rapidly as they’d risen. Of course it wasn’t going to be that simple. No hardheaded businessman of Santine’s stamp was going to release that much money without considerably more discussion and probing than he’d done as yet. She moved slowly across the room and dropped gracefully down on the ottoman in front of him.

“I don’t know what else to say to you,” she admitted hesitantly, her brown eyes wide and solemn in a face that was suddenly a shade paler. “I can only appeal to your kindness and generosity. Besides the essential issue of saving the endangered species, without your help these animals will lose their freedom and have to go back to a life behind bars.” Her face was shadowed with pain at the thought.

He was studying her with cool calculation. “I think
that matters to you even more than the other,” he observed impersonally. “You detest the idea of your precious four-footed friends in cages, don’t you?”

She nodded, her gaze dropping. “I hate to see anything caged,” she admitted softly, her voice passionately intense. “I couldn’t stand to see them go back to that after living free.”

“I see,” Santine said slowly, his dark gaze running over her with a curiously searching glance. “I’d wager you’re a great deal like your charges in that love for freedom. You’re rather like a young wild thing yourself, Miss Cannon.”

Janna’s eyes flew up to meet his, and she felt her heart give a queer flutter as they encountered their dark intensity. “I don’t think it’s really important what I am or how I feel,” she said huskily, moistening her lips nervously. “It’s the wildlife reserve we should be discussing.”

“But I don’t want to discuss the wildlife reserve at the moment,” he said arrogantly. “If I know Dawson, he’ll be stripping your brilliant professor of every scrap of information he possesses, on the chance that I might want it.” His lips curved cynically. “A very ambitious young man, Dawson.”

“He seems very pleasant,” Janna said noncommitally, trying to inch away unobtrusively from his overpowering nearness. It was strange that though they weren’t even touching she should feel this sensation of being trapped and held. It was as if the heat and vitality emanating from him were reaching out and enfolding her in a velvet webbing.

“Sit still,” he ordered tersely, his face darkening in a frown. “I’m sure you’re not generally a fidgeter. You have a tranquility about you that’s very appealing, in this high-powered world we live in.”

She obediently was still and tried to smile. “I suppose I’m a bit uneasy,” she admitted simply, gazing at him with a steady frankness. “I don’t know what you want from me, Mr. Santine.”

“I’ll get around to that in time,” he said impatiently. “Right now I want to know all about you. Since you’re a petitioner at my gates, I’d indulge my little whim if I were you.”

It was a far from subtle threat. The man was obviously used to getting his own way, and for some reason it pleased him to display a curiosity about one Janna Cannon. He was quite right. Under the circumstances she mustn’t antagonize Santine unduly, if simply satisfying his curiosity would placate him.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” he said succinctly, leaning back in his chair and regarding her with narrowed eyes. “You can start with your background.”

She shrugged. “I’m afraid you’ll be quite bored, Mr. Santine. There’s nothing in the least exotic about my life. I was born and raised on a farm in Oklahoma. My mother died when I was three, and my father just before I graduated from high school. My only living relative is my grandmother, who still lives on the farm. I’ve always wanted to work with animals, and I attended the University of Oklahoma, majoring in zoology. I worked my way through school by taking jobs at zoos around the country during the summer and as a veterinarian’s assistant during the school year. After I graduated, I went to work immediately for Dr. Sandler.”

“Very concise and to the point,” Santine drawled mockingly. “All the facts without really revealing anything about yourself. But then, I rather expected that.” He leaned forward suddenly, startling her. “Because opening up to me would have violated your sense of personal freedom, wouldn’t it, Janna?”

She felt a little frisson of fear run through her. How had Santine realized that about her in the short time they’d been together? Those dark eyes were fixed on her with catlike intentness, and she had the odd feeling he could see right through the barricade of reserve she’d built around herself. “None
of us likes to have our privacy invaded,” she said defensively. “I’m sure you don’t yourself, Mr. Santine.”

“You’re right. I hate it,” he admitted silkily. “But then, I’ve reached a position where I don’t have to stand for it any more, while you’re still vulnerable. Very vulnerable.” He repeated those last words with a thoughtfulness that had a trace of underlying satisfaction in it. He suddenly reached out and touched the curve of her cheek. “You have incredibly beautiful bones,” he commented absently. “Very unusual.”

“My grandmother is a full-blooded Cherokee Indian,” Janna said quietly, forcing herself to sit still under that curiously gentle touch. It was almost completely impersonal, so why did she feel as if her skin were burning beneath his fingers?

“Interesting,” Santine said softly, his hand dropping away from her face to linger on the thick, lustrous brown braid that nestled on the curve of her breast. He slowly leaned back once again in his chair. “Then that aversion to captivity is probably inherent, which would only make it stronger. I’m making progress.”

“Progress?” Janna asked warily, her brown eyes fixed on him with the fear of a gazelle that suddenly senses danger.

“You’re something of a challenge, Janna,” Santine drawled. “I can’t remember ever being so intrigued with a woman before. I suppose it’s that skittish, wild aura about you that arouses all my aggressive hunting instincts.” His voice dropped to a silken murmur. “You see, I’m not at all like you. I have no scruples about capturing and caging my quarry if it pleases me to do so.”

She could feel the color rush to her cheeks as bewilderment and panic surged through her. “It’s probably the unconventional way I dropped into your life,” she offered desperately. “I’d probably bore you to tears in no time.”

He chuckled in sheer enjoyment. “No, you wouldn’t
bore me,” he said wryly. “Do you realize this is the first time that I’ve ever had a woman try to talk me out of an attraction for her? A relationship with you might be a little chastening to my ego, but it wouldn’t be boring.”

Janna leaped to her feet and began to pace back and forth. “We’re not a bit alike,” she protested. “I might amuse you now, but it wouldn’t be long before I’d get on your nerves. If you do feel this socalled attraction for me, it will vanish in the twinkling of an eye.”

“God, I love to watch you move,” he said absently, his eyes on her pacing figure. “It’s sheer music to the senses.” Then his glance zeroed in on her face, and it was anything but vague. “I don’t expect that you’ll amuse me for long,” he said bluntly. “I grow bored easily these days. However, you may serve your purpose for the time that I’m in Carmel.”