Aim for the Heart

by Ingrid Weaver

  She rotated her hips and raised one eyebrow.

  "I meant smile." He sucked lightly on her lower lip. "Hungry?"

  "Mmm. I thought I smelled coffee."

  "I ordered breakfast from room service. Coffee, fruit, yogurt, Danish pastry. Do you want to do it in bed?"

  She raised her other eyebrow.

  "I meant breakfast, but I'm open to suggestions." He chuckled. "Lucky for us I asked them to send up another box of condoms along with the pastries."

  She pulled her hand from his grasp and smacked his chest. "And here I was wondering how I was going to face you this morning. How am I going to face that kid from room service?"

  Hawk caught her hand and brought it to his lips, his expression suddenly serious. "Sarah, do you regret making love with me?"

  She wanted to argue his choice of words. They hadn't made love. She knew what love was, and it wasn't this. But his eyes still held shadows of the need she'd seen the night before, and she didn't want to hurt him….

  Sarah had a moment of panic.

  She couldn't remember the color of Jackson's eyes.

  Were they brown? Green? She closed her eyes and called up an image of Jackson. He was wearing battle dress uniform, his gear slung over his shoulder. The transport was loading. She had driven him to the airfield. He had already kissed her goodbye and was no longer looking at her.

  "Sarah?" Hawk eased his weight to his knees. "What's wrong?"

  She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut. Jackson wasn't looking at her because he was skilled at saying goodbye, too. He was like her, an army brat. He knew better than to drag things out.

  Hazel. They were changeable hazel surrounded by spiky brown lashes. The panic receded. She blinked and opened her eyes.

  Blue eyes framed by long black lashes bored into hers. Hawk let go of her hand and skimmed his palm over her shoulder and then down to her thigh. "Did I hurt you, Sarah? I'm sorry. I—"

  "No, you didn't hurt me." She brushed her fingers over the hair on his chest. "And I don't have any regrets. It was great. What time is it?"

  "Almost ten-thirty."

  "Ten-thirty?" She drew up her legs and rolled to the side. "I should get going. Where's my phone?"

  "Sarah, your mission is over." A thread of steel ran through his words. "Don't do this."

  She swung her feet to the floor and looked around the bedroom. She spotted some of Hawk's clothes at the foot of the bed. Through the doorway she could see the edge of a linen-draped service cart. Her clothes would still be in the sitting room. Why hadn't she heard the door open when that service cart had been wheeled in? Had she remembered to switch her cell phone ringer back on? The Major should have called her by now. Had she slept through that, too?

  But Hawk was right. Her mission was finished. The assassin was dead, the conference had ended, the threat was over. There wasn't any reason to feel this lump of failure in her gut.

  Be a good little soldier.

  She rubbed her eyes. No, not yet. Another hour, another few minutes. What would it hurt?

  The bed creaked. There was a slide of skin on cotton. "You were thinking of him, weren't you?"

  She dropped her hands and stood. "I was wondering why my C.O. hasn't contacted me yet."

  "That's not who I meant." Hawk tied the belt of his robe as he moved in front of her. "You were thinking of your fiancé. The man you loved."

  Damn, he was too perceptive. She dragged the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around herself, tucking one corner between her breasts. She wasn't normally self-conscious about her body, but she suddenly felt too exposed. "Yes."

  "Because you believe you still love him?"

  "Drop it, Hawk."

  "I'm sorry for your loss, Sarah, but I don't want to share you."

  "Share me? I think you have the wrong idea. What happened here last night—"

  "Was inevitable." He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "It was wonderful."

  "It was sex, Hawk."

  "It was more than that and you know it."

  This was crazy, she thought. How could she talk about Jackson when she could feel the heat of another man between her legs, and the smell of the sex they'd greeted the morning with still hung in the air? Gathering the hem of the sheet so she wouldn't trip, she walked to the other room.

  Cutlery clinked as she bumped into the room service cart. She glanced down at the breakfast Hawk had ordered. A small brown paper bag was tucked beside the white china coffeepot, no doubt the extra condoms he'd ordered. There also were pots of jam, fruit, cheese, yogurt, a basket of pastries and two plates. Across one of the plates lay a single long-stemmed red rose.

  Sarah bit her lip as she looked at the rose. Drops of moisture clung to the leaves. The petals were furled on the brink of unfolding. Hawk must have ordered the flower along with the food and the condoms. The gesture was sweet, exactly the kind of thing she might expect from him, but didn't he realize she didn't need to be romanced? She didn't have room for it in her life. Jackson had never wasted their money on flowers. He'd known their love didn't require gestures like that.

  She turned her back on the flower and the breakfast and bent down to gather her clothes.

  "How long ago did he die, Sarah?"

  Hawk's voice came from behind her. She didn't look back. She grabbed her skirt and her blouse, then glanced around to look for her underwear. "It will be four years next spring."

  "Has there been anyone else since then?"

  "No."

  "That's a long time for such a passionate woman. Seems to me if you'd only wanted sex, you would have had it before now."

  Damn his logic. "I don't want to talk about him, Hawk."

  Hawk's bare feet moved into her vision. He dangled her bra from his hand. "Why? Because he was so perfect?"

  "Yes, and because I don't want to hurt you." She snatched the bra from his hand and straightened up. She carried the wrinkled clothes to her suitcase, opened the lid and tossed them inside. "I had hoped you would understand what's going on between us."

  "Explain it to me."

  She picked up her blouse again, automatically smoothing it out so that it would pack better. "It's a mutual attraction that has been exaggerated by the situation. You were still feeling the aftereffects of yesterday's violence and you'd had a large amount to drink so…"

  He caught her elbow and spun her to face him. "Is that really what you believe? That I was drunk and needy and you went to bed with me out of pity?"

  She saw the hurt in his eyes. She never wanted this to happen. "Hawk, no, I didn't think that. Last night was special. For both of us. But you can't deny the circumstances were exceptional."

  "What about this morning? What's your excuse for that?"

  "I'm not making excuses, but I didn't make any promises, either. You asked me to stay for one night. I did. Let's leave it at that."

  "Sarah."

  She lifted her hand to his cheek. His jaw was hard. She trailed her fingertips along the edge. "I like you, Hawk, and over the past few days, I've grown to care about you. Otherwise, I wouldn't have slept with you. But that's all there is between us. That's all there can be."

  He inhaled against her hand. He regarded her in silence, his gaze intense.

  Sarah had seen that gleam before. He was figuring something out. Once again she was vividly aware of the power of his intellect. She felt even more exposed. She tugged the edge of the sheet a bit higher. "I really did believe you understood. You told me you were in love once, too."

  "It wasn't the same."

  "Wasn't it? Faith died fourteen years ago, but you're still unmarried. I know that much because it was in your file. You've dated but you haven't had any steady relationships."

  "That's true but it's not the same."

  "Of course, it is. You must still love her."

  "You've got it wrong, Sarah. I'm not pining over some perfect love. I don't have any illusions about why I'm still single. I know why. It's because I haven't wanted to repeat my mi
stake."

  "Your mistake?"

  "Your fiancé died on a training mission five weeks before your wedding. Mine died on our wedding day when her car skidded through a guard rail."

  She felt something turn over inside her. This was more than she'd guessed. Hawk hadn't given any hint his relationship with Faith had been that serious. He'd not only been in love, he'd been engaged. To lose someone on the very day you were supposed to start a life together…

  She knew the pain he must have felt. Yes, she knew that feeling of emptiness, of loss, of the world falling in.

  Hawk put his finger under her chin. "I can see the sympathy on your face, Sarah, but I told you before it's misplaced. This isn't like you and your Captain Jackson, so don't feel sorry for me."

  "But—"

  "Faith wasn't on her way to the church when the accident happened. She had left me waiting at the altar."

  Sarah drew in her breath. "What?"

  "She called me at the church to tell me she was on her way to elope with Jibril."

  It took a moment for his words to sink in. Faith had jilted Hawk before she'd died? And she'd chosen Jibril?

  Sarah's head reeled. She needed more time to think about this. She knew she'd just been handed a key to Hawk's…what? His past? His psyche? His heart?

  But she didn't want his heart, did she?

  And how could any woman have chosen Jibril over Hawk?

  Each question led to another, yet many of the things that she'd wondered about were finally beginning to make sense. Hawk's initial difficulty with trusting her, his single-minded devotion to his work, those tension-filled meetings between Jibril and Hawk…

  And how could any woman have chosen Jibril over Hawk? That question wouldn't go away.

  "Oh, Hawk," she murmured. "How that must have hurt. It would be like losing her twice. You wouldn't even have the comfort of your memories."

  "The memories were lies, Sarah." He cradled her face in his hands, stroking her temples with his thumbs. "What you and I did was honest."

  Honest. Yes. No wonder he had said he didn't want to share her. Faith had chosen someone else. Sarah pressed her palms against his chest. More questions slid into her mind. "She died fourteen years ago. You started your research fourteen years ago."

  "My work was all I had left. That's why I made it my life. It was the one thing I could trust." He kissed the bridge of her nose. "Come back to bed with me, Sarah. You were right. We don't need to talk about this now."

  "You just gave your work away."

  He nudged aside her hair and kissed her ear. With the tip of his tongue he traced a line down the side of her neck.

  "You were using me to fill the void."

  "Sarah…"

  "You're using me, Hawk. That's why you're trying to make what happened between us into more than it was. You're trying to fill the void that was left when you gave away your research."

  He grasped the edge of the sheet, tugged it aside and cupped her breasts in his hands. With a wordless murmur he bent forward to close his mouth over her nipple.

  She fisted her hands in his hair. "Hawk."

  He circled her nipple with his tongue, flicking and stroking, coaxing a response. His chest rumbled with another murmur as her body reacted quickly and unmistakably. He pressed closer and sucked hard.

  Shards of pleasure flashed through her body. She knew he was doing this to end the conversation…but she hadn't wanted to have the conversation in the first place.

  So what if he was using her? She was using him, too, wasn't she? Her grip on his hair turned into a caress.

  Hawk wrapped his arms around her back and straightened up, bringing his face to hers. He took her mouth in a kiss that wasn't gentle.

  Someone knocked at the door.

  Hawk kicked away the sheet that was pooled around her ankles, lifted her up and backed her toward the bedroom.

  The knocking continued.

  Sarah broke off the kiss and looked past his shoulder. "Hawk, wait."

  He rubbed the edge of his teeth over her collarbone. "They'll go away."

  Her pulse was pounding. She struggled to focus. "No, I should check this out. The hotel security people should have stopped anyone from coming up unannounced."

  "Sarah, it's over. We're safe."

  There was a final hard rapping against the door. Someone called out from the corridor. "Captain Fox?"

  At the sound of the familiar voice, Sarah returned to reality with a thump. She shoved at Hawk's chest. "Put me down. I have to answer."

  He set her on her feet, brought her hand to his mouth and gently nipped the base of her thumb. "We'll send whoever it is away."

  "We can't, Hawk. It's Major Redinger."

  * * *

  Hawk knew he was being studied. The Major was good at it, though. He hadn't interrogated him and he hadn't stared. He had asked politely after Hawk's health, congratulated him on the dramatic publication of his research and had confirmed that according to all available government sources, the threat to his life was over. Now he appeared content to stand by the window and look down at the street as he waited for Sarah, sipping coffee from the cup that he must know had been meant for her.

  Hawk tightened the belt of his robe, crossed his arms and leaned one hip against the desk as he watched the Major. Mitchell Redinger could have posed for an Army recruiting poster. Even out of uniform, he had the classic bearing of an officer. He radiated reliability, from his square jaw and sharply honed features to the gold wedding ring on his left hand. Although he looked to be in his early forties, silver streaked the dark hair at his temples, giving him an air of mature authority. He was a man accustomed to command, someone whose orders would be obeyed not because of the rank he'd acquired but because of the respect he'd earned.

  He would be a formidable adversary, Hawk decided, but it wasn't yet clear whether he was Hawk's.

  Hawk glanced toward the bedroom door. The sound of running water still came from the bathroom. He had waited until Sarah had stepped into the shower before he'd answered the Major's knock. He'd wanted to give her the opportunity to compose herself—he knew how important it was to her to appear professional—but he realized the effort had been wasted. Redinger had scanned the suite as he'd entered, his gaze touching eloquently on the unused spare cot, the scattered clothes and Hawk's gaping bathrobe. Although his expression had remained impassive, he couldn't have failed to reach the obvious conclusion.

  If it had been up to Hawk, he would have told the Major to come back later or, better yet, to butt out and leave them alone. He didn't want to share Sarah with the Army any more than he'd wanted to share her with her old love.

  But Sarah had made her choice. The sound of the Major's voice had sent the woman who had trembled in Hawk's arms and matched his hunger stroke for stroke only minutes before into full retreat.

  Only, the retreat had begun before that, hadn't it? Sarah had given him as much as she'd been willing to give. She had been honest. That was all he'd really asked of her.

  Was she right? Were his feelings due to the emotions and the aquavit from the night before? He'd been empty and adrift. She had been there for him. There was no doubt the circumstances of the past few days had intensified the attraction. What he had felt for Faith had been an illusion, yet he'd known Faith for years. He'd known Sarah for three days, so how could he be certain about his judgment this time? Why was he pushing so hard?

  Logically he knew he should gather more facts before reaching a conclusion, but as far as his body was concerned, his feelings were simple. He still wanted her. For another night, for another week, he didn't know where this would lead. He just knew he didn't want to let her go yet.

  Which served to prove there had been nothing logical about his feelings for Sarah from the start. He returned his gaze to the Major.

  Redinger was no longer looking out the window. He was looking at Hawk. He pushed Sarah's rose aside to place his coffee cup on her plate. "Captain Fox is an outstanding o
fficer," he said.

  "Yes, she is. She saved my life."

  "I would expect no less. During each of her missions with my team from Eagle Squadron, she has performed her duty without fail. She has my respect as well as the respect of my men."

  "Good. She deserves it."

  "Although officially Captain Fox is assigned to one of Delta Force's support squadrons rather than an attack squadron, my men and I consider her to be one of our own, Dr. Lemay."

  The Major's tone was too hard to be called polite. His gaze wasn't impassive, it was man-to-man steel. Hawk uncrossed his arms and pushed away from the desk. "I'm sure there's a point to this. If you'd like to make it before the outstanding officer we're discussing joins us, I'd suggest you do it soon."

  Redinger nodded once. He walked around the room service cart, bent down to pick something off the floor beside the wall then moved to stand toe-to-toe with Hawk. He wasn't as tall as Hawk, but that didn't put him at a disadvantage. Strength was evident in the quiet way he held himself, his body exuding a power that arose from more than merely muscle. He held out his hand.

  Hawk glanced down. A crumpled foil packet rested in the center of the Major's palm. It was an empty condom wrapper.

  Hawk took the wrapper, put it in the pocket of his robe and returned his gaze to Redinger's. "I don't think that's any of your business."

  "I disagree. Captain Fox may be an only child, but there are a dozen men who regard her as their sister. None of us would want to see her hurt."

  Hawk scowled. "Then why the hell did you send her on an assignment like this one when she was already injured?"

  "She was deemed fit for duty."

  "She was in pain."

  "She could have refused."

  "Then you don't know her as well as you think you do," Hawk said. "Sarah has too much pride to back down from a challenge. She would never put her own welfare first. As her commanding officer, it should have been up to you to stop her."

  "You don't know Captain Fox at all if you think anyone could force her to do something she didn't want." His voice dropped. It wasn't soft. It was as ominous as the sound of distant thunder. "And I believe you know I wasn't referring to her physical condition when I said we don't want her hurt."