He looked around, then wordlessly spat on the dirt floor, narrowly missing a small rug. With an annoyed grunt, he motioned the men back outside.
"Don't know why we have to keep searching . . . a lot of bother for nothin'," she heard a voice mutter as they filed back out.
"Could've been downin' some cold ones," a second disgruntled voice said.
Connors belted the man on the ear. "Shut up, do as you're told."
Isabeau exhaled in relief as the last one stomped out. After they left her heart beat so fast she couldn't move right away. Several minutes elapsed before she got up and looked outside.
On shaking legs, she watched as they disrupted the lives of one family after another. Angrily, she swung away from the door. As she did so, the precariously attached hair piece went flying and hit the wall.
Clapping her hand over her mouth, Isabeau cut off the hysterical laughter before it could escape. Bending to retrieve the piece, she carefully straightened it out and placed it back in the trunk.
It was another half hour before Connors and his crew left. His voice easily carried on the still air as he ordered the men to search further up the river.
Finding a wide-brimmed bonnet, Isabeau placed it on her head and tied the ribbons under her chin. It effectively hid her hair and shielded her face.
Striving to be casual, she left the shanty, enormously relieved to be out of the small enclosure.
A small boy stood in her path. Her eyes met his. She saw his eyes narrow, then he turned to stare at the retreating men. Isabeau continued to walk slowly, her face tightening in fear. The boy nodded and grinned, a slow grin, then he walked away, whistling a tune.
Isabeau reached the edge of the encampment, relieved when no one else seemed to pay her any attention.
She felt lightheaded by the time she reached the park. Standing on the edge of the green, Isabeau had a sudden fear . . . what if Hawk had become fed up and decided to leave? What if he was already gone? Not only was she risking herself, but now there were promises she had made to two other people.
He must be there. He had to be there. Surely she meant more to him than a casual one-night stand.
Isabeau found Lila at the swings. She and Megan appeared to be any normal mother and young daughter on a spring day outing. There was nothing to distinguish either of them as homeless.
Lila pushed Megan's swing, the child's face lit up as she shrieked with delight. Megan waved happily to Isabeau, her arms curled tightly about the rope of the swing. Her hair swung out like a dark banner as the swing lifted her high into the air. As the momentum slowed, she jumped off, landing on her knees.
Isabeau reached down to help her up, gently touching the delicately carved abalone comb in her hair.
"Megan, what a beautiful comb."
"It was a present from Da."
"Your daddy must have loved you a great deal to give you such a beautiful gift." Isabeau said softly.
"Whenever I wear it, I think of Da," Megan said.
Isabeau released Megan's hand and the child skipped over the grass. Isabeau marveled at the resiliency of children.
"Isabeau."
"Are you all right?" Lila touched her arm in concern. "You're very white. It must have been very frightening, seeing those men again. I'm so relieved you've made it safely out of the encampment. You were not recognized?"
Isabeau blinked hard. "No," she managed, "I made it out okay." She drew a shaky breath. "Let's see if we can find that hotel."
Lila hesitated, her eyes avoiding Isabeau's. "It is all right, Isabeau, I don't expect you to look after us. We will do just fine as we were."
"I want to help you," Isabeau said lightly. "Do you know where the hotel is?"
"It's not far," Lila reassured her. She went to tell Megan they were leaving. Taking her daughter's hand, they walked across the grass and into the mainstream of pedestrians strolling the boulevard.
"Will anyone bother your personal things?" Isabeau asked worriedly, looking back.
"No. We have so little, no one steals from anyone else."
"I'm sorry," Isabeau murmured, embarrassed, "I just wouldn't want anything to happen to your belongings because I asked for your help."
"Don't be self-conscious about our circumstances," Lila said softly. "Believe it or not, we are better off than some. We have a shelter. Many in the housing projects sleep like sardines piled one upon the other, barely a body's space to themselves. I once saw a man sleeping on a board resting on two whiskey barrels. The Mission Sisters bring food to us regularly. At least we are alive. I work sometimes when the seamstress in town is overloaded with orders. They let me bring Megan as long as she is quiet.
"I have prayed every night to the good Lord to deliver us from this life, for the sake of my daughter. Perhaps you have been sent to us for this purpose."
Isabeau was disconcerted by her faith. "You saved me. I want to help you in return. No one should be homeless," she finished quietly, thinking of the homeless in her own time.
Lila touched her arm lightly. "Please know that no matter the outcome, I thank you for your efforts."
They reached the hotel a short time later. Isabeau gazed up at the imposing structure, swallowing nervously, thinking of her flight of the night before.
"Well," she put on a brave smile, "let's go."
They entered the building and a uniformed doorman stepped forward to usher them into the foyer, a smile on his face.
Calmly, Isabeau approached the main desk. The clerk was new and his brows rose inquiringly and haughtily.
"Has Mr. Morgan in suite ninety-two checked out yet?"
"No, Ma'am," the man replied, frowning. "May I inquire your business --"
"Thank you, but I'll speak to him personally." With a smile, Isabeau nodded and turned away.
"Oh, but miss," the clerk called after her in some urgency, "Mr. Morgan is extremely busy today. He is not to be disturbed."
Inclining her head in acknowledgment, Isabeau scanned the expensive furnishings in the lobby. During her work as a photographer, Isabeau had become accustomed to inhabiting and working in all types of surroundings. She largely took them for granted.
Lila, however, was clearly ill at ease, repeatedly glancing toward the entranceway. It wasn't hard to discern her thoughts were clearly on escape.
"Come and sit down a moment," Isabeau urged her softly, indicating a quiet corner at the far end of the lobby. "I have to go speak with Hawk. I need you to wait until I return." Isabeau could see Lila's indecision. Reaching forward, she enfolded the other woman's nervously twining fingers, trying to quell her fears.
"Please," Isabeau beseeched, "stay while I go upstairs. I know he can help you."
Lila looked at Isabeau, then her daughter. "I will do as you wish," she promised quietly.
Patting her arm reassuringly, Isabeau walked quickly across the lobby and up the grand staircase before she lost her nerve. She wasn't sure of the reception awaiting her.
Pausing at the top of the stairs, Isabeau gripped the smooth wood of the balustrade. Turning, she then moved along the lushly carpeted corridor, staring at the toes of her boots as she stopped outside door number ninety two.
She stood a moment. Her palms were sweating and her mouth felt dry.
What look would be in his eyes? Would he be glad to see her, or --
She grasped the cold brass knob firmly, then stepped back hurriedly as the door opened from within. Three men in dark suits stepped out of the room, each of them in turn tipping their hat and murmuring a polite good day to her.
The door partially closed, but not before Isabeau observed the flurry of activity going on inside Hawk's suite.
Perplexed, she pushed the door open and stood in the aperture, eyes curiously skimming the room wherein stood half a dozen men.
Hawk stood with his back to her, but she recognized him immediately . . . the width and breath of his shoulders stood out from the others.
She felt her breath catch somewhere betw
een her rib cage and her throat, making her feel faint as a wash of memory engulfed her and she recalled the time they had spent together in his bed. Memories trickled through her like warm honey.
"Excuse me, Ma'am." Grasping the door frame for support, Isabeau moved aside as another man exited the room.
Hawk wore dark trousers and a white shirt, sleeves carelessly rolled up, jacket and tie discarded. His long dark hair was askew, as if he'd run his hands through it repeatedly.
He was deep in conversation with several men, his words rapid, brusque and businesslike. As if sensing he was being observed, he jerked his head up, eyes passing briefly over her, then snapping back.
Later, upon reflection, Isabeau realized it was amazing he did recognize her, clad as she was, with her hair darkened and drawn severely back.
Across the width of the room, dark eyes blazed with relief followed by the unmistakable heat of anger.
Isabeau's chin jerked up. Defiantly, she glared at him, a thin breath quivering through her as she took an involuntary step back. All hell looked ready to break loose!
Chapter Thirteen
"Isabeau!" Hawk barked.
A hush fell on the room and every pair of eyes turned to her. Isabeau gnawed her lip, her eyes never leaving his face. He looked furious, his mouth compressed to a white line.
Isabeau tightened her hand on the doorknob, feeling the shiver start at the back of her neck, zigzagging a path down her back. Dammit! No man should look so good when he hadn't shaved!
"All right, everyone, you can leave." The command was issued to the room at large, although Hawk's eyes never wavered from her face. "Johnson --"
A short man in a dark suit stepped forward, pushing dark rimmed glasses up on his nose as they slid downward.
"Yes, sir?"
"Take names and see that everyone is paid whatever amounts are due."
"I'll take care of it, Mr. Morgan."
Bemused, Isabeau watched the man Johnson leave, then noticed Malry standing across the crowded room. Malry, surprisingly, wore a striped three-piece double breasted suit that to her eye looked tailor-made. His dark grizzled hair and beard were neatly trimmed and his boots polished. As he walked out the door he threw her a wink. "Glad to see you back, lass."
Isabeau stepped aside self-consciously as the rest of the men began to file out the door.
She closed the door and Hawk seemed galvanized into action. With mixed feelings of awe and anticipation she waited as he strode to her, not sure what to expect.
"I don't want you to yell at me." She swallowed. "I want you to hold me."
Roughly, he pulled her into his arms. Isabeau collapsed into him. Clinging breathlessly, she reached around and squeezed him harder and harder. Moisture gathered in her eyes as she let her fingers tangle in his rich, dark hair.
"I'm so glad to be back. I wasn't sure I'd see you again."
Shamelessly, she burrowed into the haven of his arms.
The euphoria lasted a mere moment.
Pushing her from him with hands clamped tightly upon her shoulders, Hawk showed her a face livid with rage. "Now, tell me --" he began harshly, then paused, obviously fighting for control. "Do you mind telling me what the hell's going on? I've been out of my mind wondering what had happened to you, and you just meander back in here like you had gone out for a stroll."
With a sigh, Isabeau twisted away from him. Tossing back her head, she challenged him with her own anger. "Damn it! What was I supposed to do -- hang around while you and Malry duke it out over my honor? For God's sakes, did you have to tell him everything?"
"I don't know what you're --" he stopped, comprehension dawning. "You think I told Malry about the other night?" Hawk shook his head. "God! That seems like a long time ago, after the hell I went through turning the city upside down to find you. I didn't tell him we'd made love --" he lowered his voice, "as much as I wanted to shout it from the top of the hotel."
Some of her ire receded.
"Malry jumped to conclusions. Incidentally, the rooms were booked several months ago. He had no idea you were actually in the bedroom."
"Fulfilling his suspicions," Isabeau added.
"Listen, it doesn't matter what he thinks or thinks he knows." Hawk ran a hand through his hair. "Christ, he was ready to tear me apart if I'd hurt you."
That touched her to think Malry was looking out for her. Her next thought brought her up short. "Well, there's still Amelia," she reminded him.
"Listen, Isabeau, we do have to talk about Amelia. I have some explaining to do -- and I'll be the first to admit things are really mixed up. Is Amelia the reason you took off last night?"
Isabeau turned away, her fingers biting into the cushiony softness of a loveseat. "Everything seemed so perfect, so right," she admitted gruffly. "When I heard you and Malry arguing, suddenly I was just another woman sleeping with someone else's fiancée."
He groaned. Moving closer, he gently cupped her chin. "Isabeau, tell me something, do you think I'm the type of man to cheat on a woman I care about?"
"No, but I saw red for a few minutes. The man I think you are -- I couldn't believe you'd be engaged to someone and go behind her back. Usually, I don't act so impulsively."
Except, of course, lately.
"Well, that's what we have to talk about, my, er, engagement to Amelia." Hawk moved away from her. He didn't look guilty, but almost confused. "First, though, I can't impress on you enough how dangerous the streets can be, especially for a woman on her own."
"I know, I know. I went for a walk to clear my head and was on my way back to the hotel, only --" she paused, gnawing her lip as his face darkened again.
Only?" He prompted softly, teeth bared in a dangerous smile.
"Listen --" Isabeau began in a rush, swinging away, "I was kidnapped --"
"What!"
"I'll make you a deal. I-I'll tell you everything, but later. There's something -- someone -- more important right now."
Staring out the window at the city below, Isabeau quickly told him about Lila and Megan.
Several moments ticked by. When no comment was forthcoming, she looked over her shoulder at Hawk's impassive face.
"How did you meet up with this woman?" he asked.
Isabeau set her jaw. "I can tell you all of that later."
"I can make inquiries," he finally conceded. "It may take a few days. Don't get too caught up in this," he warned her. "There's a possibility nothing may turn up."
Delighted, she ran to him, impulsively throwing her arms about his neck. "I knew I could trust you to help. I knew you'd come through."
"Really? You can't seem to make up your mind on that account."
Guilty heat flamed into her face, guilt that for a short time the night before she hadn't trusted him to do the right thing. "You're right," she admitted, "but I won't make that mistake again."
With a deep growl, Hawk crushed her to him. His fingers splayed gently across her throat and he pulled her chin up and drew her mouth to his.
Heat seared them, intense, instant heat, stirring to life the still smoldering memory of their encounter from the night before. Isabeau wanted nothing more than a repeat performance.
The hard, gentle caress of lips and hands shivered a multitude of sensation along her sensitive skin, until all she wanted to do was drown in feeling.
Reluctantly, he stepped back and released her. They still had to clear the air about certain things.
Opening her eyes in disappointment, Isabeau dropped down to stand flat on her feet.
She tried to calm herself but all she saw was Hawk . . . strong, dark Hawk. The man she loved. A future together seemed so uncertain and perhaps unattainable. A wave of sadness and loss shook Isabeau, making the tears start to her eyes.
She watched Hawk reach around her and pick up his jacket. Pulling it on, he jerked his arms into the sleeves, the gesture somehow indicating to Isabeau that something was bothering him.
In the next instant, muttering an oath, Ha
wk stepped close again. "I missed you, Isabeau," he whispered, his voice dark and gravelly as he dropped his forehead to hers. "I was really worried." Dark blue eyes held green.
Isabeau's throat felt tight, her lips quivering with similar emotion. Lifting her gaze, she touched her mouth to the warmth of his neck, nuzzling the skin and breathing his scent as she enjoyed the roughness of the whiskers along his jaw.
Carefully, she pushed her hands under his jacket, curving her hands and arms around his ribs and behind his back. "What was going on when I arrived?" she murmured.
"I hired investigators to find you." His voice was terse. "They've been combing the city. Little did I realize you would arrive back on your own." He snorted. "So when am I to meet Lila and Megan?"
"They're in the lobby."
"Now?"
"Well," she said defensively, "I could hardly leave them in that place. They did save my -- " she stopped. "Never mind that, you can talk to them now." Hurriedly, she turned and walked to the door.
Hawk gave her a narrow-eyed glance. "This conversation is not through. Be warned that before the day is over, I'll have the whole story."
"It's a deal."
Stealing a glance sideways at the grimness of his features, Isabeau hoped she had not raised Lila's hopes to have them crushed. As they walked into the lobby, she ruefully admitted that sometimes her emotions got too involved when she wanted to help someone.
She indicated Lila and Megan as they waited at the far end of the lobby. Lila sat straight in a high-backed chair with her daughter asleep in her arms.
Lila spotted them approaching and shifted her daughter in an attempt to rise. An emotion akin to fear flitted across her face as she sank back into the chair and stared up at Hawk.
Isabeau was puzzled, then recalled her own initial reaction upon her first meeting with Hawk. At the time, his fierce scowl had caused her no little disquiet. At the moment, however, she didn't see anything frightening or overbearing in his manner. She couldn't understand Lila's intimidation.
Clearly sensing the woman's disquiet, Hawk spoke gently, trying to put Lila at ease. After several moments, he strode back across the lobby to the main desk to speak at length with the clerk. When he returned, he took Isabeau aside.
Time Travel Romance Collection Page 18