Hawk stared at Adrienne with fascination. Over the space of this wishing-on-a-star conversation, his wife seemed to have slid backward over the years. In her unfettered gaze, Hawk could clearly discern the trusting child she had once been.
"It's not what I wished, rather what a friend of mine wished upon me," Hawk said softly.
"And that was?" Adrienne urged.
Hawk almost laughed aloud; he half thought she might box his ears if he didn't answer her quickly enough for her liking. "Kiss me, Adrienne," he said huskily, "prove to me it's not true. That a friend can't curse you with a wish upon a falling star."
"Come on, Hawk, tell me what his wish was!" Laughter lilted on her lush, pouty lips, and he wanted to kiss her until she made all his private wishes come true.
"Will you kiss me, then?" he bartered.
"Oh! Everything's a deal isn't it?"
Hawk shrugged. "Tit for tat, lass. 'Tis the way of this world. If a villein has beans and no meat, he finds someone with meat and no beans. I'm merely offering you a mutually satisfying trade."
"Do I get coffee too?" she asked shrewdly. "Tomorrow morning? For the kiss tonight? Toll troll paid in advance?"
"Och, wee lassie, who taught you to drive such a hard bargain?" But if he had his way, he'd coax enough sweet kisses from her tonight that he'd need only roll over in the morning to kiss her again. In his bed.
"Was that a yes, Hawk?"
"Cease and desist, lass! Shoot me another one of those beguiling looks and I'll be giving you my buttery with the coffee and perhaps toss in a few horses."
"I have your word, then?"
"You have my word and my pledge."
"Deal." Adrienne sealed their bargain hastily. Answers, coffee, and the excuse for a kiss. How could she ask for more? "My answer first," she demanded.
Hawk's great dark head fell forward, his mouth to her ear. Shivers slid up her back when his breath fanned her neck. "What? I can't hear you?" she said, as he mumbled something indistinct.
"It's really too foolish to bear repeating…"
"A deal's a deal, Hawk!" she complained, shivering violently as his lips grazed her neck again and again.
Hawk groaned. "He wished for me the perfect wife. That my wife would be all that I ever dared dream of… all I ever hoped for. And then he wished that she would refuse to love me. Refuse to touch me. Refuse to share my bed."
"Why would a friend wish such a thing?" she asked indignantly.
"Why would a wife do such a thing?" he countered smoothly against the tender lobe of her ear.
She felt the tip of his tongue against her skin, and wondered why herself. Why would a wife say no to this impossibly beautiful, intriguing man?
Her pulse quickened; she turned her head and stared straight into burnished ebony eyes of unfathomable depths. Bewildered by the flush and quiver of emotion, she touched a finger to his perfectly sculpted lips. Her mind cried out to identify this new feeling, to control it, but her body demanded that she know him in a sense that had nothing to do with reason or logic.
"Let me love you, lass. I won't take anything you don't wish to give." His eyes lingered on her face, a seductive visual caress that heated her blood, and she wondered what might have been—if she'd only met him when she'd still believed in happily ever after. What would it feel like to let him run his beautiful strong hands all over her shaking body, to be kissed and teased and finally completed with the raw, pulsing steel of his hunger. Her senses were overwhelmed by the Hawk; the spicy, male scent of him, the silky feel of his hair, the rock-hard press of his body against hers.
I'll stop him in just a moment, she promised herself as he scattered kisses along her jaw. One kiss on his lips was the deal, she reminded herself.
Her conscience momentarily assuaged, she permitted the glorious rasp of his callused palms against her skin, the whisper of his shadow beard against her neck.
Suddenly she was doing more than permitting. Her arms crept up to circle his neck. She buried her fingers in his silky dark hair, then slid them down his neck to his powerful shoulders, tracing the contours of each sculpted muscle.
Adrienne drew a shaky, bewildered breath. She couldn't get enough oxygen in her lungs, but that ceased to matter as Hawk replaced her need for air with a need for his lips, a need for his tongue, a need for his need of her.
"I am the one, lass," he warned her softly. "It all stops here. With me. The best and last. Oh, definitely your last."
My last, she reluctantly acknowledged, for she doubted that any other man could match this one.
In that breathless moment, the past blurred into utter insignificance. It was as if Eberhard had never touched her, as if the twentieth century had never existed. As if all her life she had been heading toward this moment. This man. This magic.
Hawk traced kisses across her jaw, over every inch of her face; her nose, her eyelids as they fluttered closed, her brows, and then he stopped, his sensual lips hovering a flicker of a tongue away from hers. Would she? Dare she?
Adrienne's tongue flickered out and she tasted the man she'd wanted since the moment she'd laid fascinated eyes on him. "Oh my," she whispered. She wanted him, wanted this, more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life. A husky sound rumbled deep in his throat; he splayed his hand at the base of her neck and arched her head back to receive his kisses. The pink tip of his tongue circled her lips, tasted every corner, every fullness, teased her senseless; until it was too much for her, and her lips relaxed beneath his, molded to his, opened for him as her whole body seemed to be opening and crying for him. She was the bud of a rose, unfurling to the golden heat of the sun. "Magnificent," she whispered, unaware that she'd spoken her thoughts aloud.
But the Hawk wasn't unaware—he heard her one word and desire slammed through him so savagely that he shuddered. Hot and hard, ruthlessly, the Hawk moved his mouth over hers. He slanted across her lips with a relentless hunger that caused stars to shimmer behind her shut eyes.
Adrienne's eyes flew open for the sheer pleasure of looking at him and she saw that he was looking directly into them with such a smoldering promise of passion that she whimpered against his mouth.
Hundreds of feet below, nature conspired with the raw, unquenchable mystery of passion in its rhythm; the sensual tempo of the waves as billions of gallons of water came in with a fury, then eased out. Wave after wave of sensation crashed over Adrienne; she was adrift in a sea of such passion that she literally felt herself being reshaped, molded to this man's touch, just as the rocks below her were molded by the ocean's relentless caress.
The Hawk's tongue was hot silk, exploring her mouth, teasing her tongue. "Oh," she whispered, "I never knew…"
"Is kissing me so bad, then, lass?"
"It's not the kissing that's bad…" Her words were lost in a soft moan as she tipped her head back for more kisses.
"What's bad, my heart?" Hawk nipped her neck, gently.
"Oooh!… you!"
"Me? I'm bad?" He wouldn't let her answer for a long moment while he nibbled at her lower lip, teased it, sucked it into his mouth, then slowly released it.
Adrienne drew a shaky breath. "Well… I mean… you are a man…"
"Yes," he encouraged.
"And very beautiful at that…"
"Mmm… yes?"
"And I hate beautiful men…" Her hands moved over his shoulders, his broad muscled back, and tapered down over his tight waist to his muscular buttocks. She was shocked at her own daring, thrilled by the groan of pleasure she coaxed from him.
"I can tell. Hate me just like that, lass. Hate me like that again. Hate me all you need to hate me."
In one fluid motion, the Hawk tumbled her gently to the ground and stretched his hard body over hers. Adrienne was amazed; she'd never been this intimate with Eberhard, never experienced anything like it before, this heady feeling of lying beneath a man. How tantalizing it was: the thrust of her breasts against his broad chest; the possessive way he snared and kept one of he
r legs between his; the ridge of his enormous cock against the curve of her thigh. When he shifted his weight so that rigid muscle rode rock-hard between her legs, the heat simmering between them flared, causing muscles to clench inside her she hadn't known she possessed. He rotated his hips, rubbing in slow erotic circles against her. She felt light-headed, disoriented by the sensations he evoked. She arched against him, wrapping a leg over him to pull him closer—to trap the heated man of him snug in the ache between her thighs.
He tugged gently at the bodice of her gown and slid it down over her shoulders, baring her breasts for his attentive expertise. "Beautiful," he murmured, his fingers teasing the puckered crests. When he circled the rosy peaks with his tongue, tendrils of fire radiated through her body, culminating in exquisite heat in her belly, and lower still.
"Oh my God!" Adrienne tossed her head in the fragrant grass and threaded her fingers possessively through his dark mane.
Hawk groaned, his hot breath fanning her breast. "How do you do this to me, lass?" She was all he'd ever dreamed he might one day have, then counseled himself sternly to give up the dreaming as a foolish lad's fancy.
But now he felt very much like that foolish lad again.
He almost laughed at the rightness of it. After all the women he'd had, he loved this one. The full enormity of his realization astounded and delighted him; he lowered his lips to hers, demanding wordlessly that she love him back. He put every ounce of longing, every shred of roguish seduction at his disposal into that silent plea—he kissed her so deeply, he no longer knew where he ended and she began. Her hips yielded when he thrust against her and rose hungrily to find his when he drew back. Primitive sounds escaped her lips, which were swollen and plum-colored from his fierce kisses.
"Love me, Adrienne," he commanded roughly. "Love me!"
Her only reply was a throaty moan.
"Tell me you want me, lass," he demanded hungrily against her lips.
"Please…" came her choked reply as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. I'll stop him in just a minute. It will be easier if I don't look at him.
"Do you want me, Adrienne?" Hawk asked, pulling back from their kiss. Her plea wasn't enough of an answer; he had to hear her say the words. That even with her eyes closed, she knew it was him on top of her, him kissing her.
But she didn't answer, and her eyes remained shut.
Hawk groaned and kissed her again anyway, losing himself for a moment in the texture and taste of her sweet lips. But doubt hammered at him. He was aware that if he didn't push the issue, he might yet carry her to his bed tonight in her sensual, drunken arousal. But he didn't want Adrienne incoherent. He wanted her wide-awake, fully aware and asking him to touch her. He wanted her to meet his gaze levelly with honest, unabashed hunger, and say the words. Hawk tore his mouth from hers, panting hard.
"Open your eyes, Adrienne." He forced himself to lie still; his hips rigid against the seductive arch of her body.
A wordless moment of shallow breaths passed, their lips inches apart.
"Look at me. Say my name. Now," Hawk commanded.
Adrienne's eyes opened just a sliver. Don't make me acknowledge this… don't ask so much! they pleaded. And again, her body quested upward, begging him to move atop her, to seduce her in her drunken arousal so that tomorrow she could pretend it hadn't been her choice.
"Look at me and say my name." His voice broke harshly on the words. His beautiful, chiseled mouth hovered only a whisper away from hers.
Adrienne stared up at him mutely. Tears stung her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks.
"Why can't you do it?" he demanded, his brogue rough velvet over broken glass. "Is it so impossible? Sidheach. That's all you have to say. Or James, even Lyon. Laird Douglas would do!" Anything but Adam.
Adrienne stared, revulsion at her own weakness choking her. She'd learned nothing! One more inch, one scant movement, and she would be lost as never before. Where the body goes… the heart will follow… say his name and kiss him again, then you can just kiss your soul goodbye. This man has the power to destroy you in ways Eberhard never could.
"What will it take to make you forget him?"
And he thought it was Adam, but it wasn't Adam. It was Eberhard. And there would be nothing left of her this time if she played the fool again.
"Say my name, lass, for the love of God!" Hawk roared. He was shaking with a mixture of barely restrained passion and disbelief that she could respond to him so erotically, so completely, yet still withhold his name. "If there is any chance for me at all, Adrienne, call out to me! If you can't even say my name, then I stand no chance of ever gaining your love!"
His last plea was the agonized cry of a wounded animal; it laid open her heart.
A pulse throbbed in his neck and she raised her hand to place trembling fingers against it. Harder and harder she steeled her heart, until it was safe again behind a glacier of remembrance and regret.
He pushed her hand away.
"Say it." He forced his demand through gritted teeth.
"Now isn't this just sooo touching. I'll help her." Olivia's voice dripped venom. "Just call him the king's whore," she purred. "That's all we ever called him."
* * * * *
The storm raging in him stilled at precisely that moment.
"Is it true?" Adrienne finally whispered, her eyes wide and deep with hurt. Hurt and something else. Hawk saw the unspoken cry in her slate depths. He wanted to deny it, to explain the nightmare away. But he would not lie to this lass. She would have to take him in full truth or not at all; when she accepted him, if he even had any chance left, she would possess him entirely. Bitterness welled up, cloaking him in a despair so complete he almost cried aloud with the agony of it.
"I was called the king's whore," he replied stiffly.
Shadows leapt and flickered in her opalescent silver eyes. Darkness he had vowed to ease, he had fed with his own hands.
He rolled from her and rose slowly, then walked away into the night as silent as a wolf, leaving her on the edge of a precipice with his vengeful ex-mistress. He hoped she'd simply push the spiteful Olivia over the edge, but he knew it was not going to be that easy. For if he judged rightly, his wife would be in Adam's bed in no time now.
She was lost to him.
Better that he had never met this lass so that he might never have known the sweet rush of emotion, the absolving passion, the freeing wings of what love might have been.
He wandered that night, lost in memories of that time when he had been commanded by his king. All for Dalkeith and his mother, for Ilysse and Adrian. Aye, and fair Scotia from time to time when his king had been wildly foolish. Nay, there had never really been any choice.
Hawk's eyes searched the night sky for yet another falling star. He intended to wish upon every one for the rest of his life if necessary. Surely ten thousand wishes could undo one. But the cloud cover had returned and there wasn't one flicker of a star to be seen in the absolute darkness that surrounded him.
* * *
CHAPTER 17
"oh my dear, i thought you knew!" olivia gushed.
"Go to hell," Adrienne said softly as she forced herself to her feet.
"I'm trying to help you—"
"No you're not. The only person you're trying to help is yourself—to a heaping helping of my husband."
"Ah, yes. Your precious husband. Have you no curiosity about his time at court?" Olivia purred invitingly.
"Do you really think I'm stupid enough to believe you would tell me any truth about him? A woman like you?"
Olivia stopped midsentence, her mouth hanging slightly ajar. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"
Adrienne's slate-gray eyes coolly met Olivia's heavily kohled ovals. "Just that you're the kind of woman who measures her success by the men she beds and the women she bites and one day soon, and not too far off from the look of you, you're going to be nothing but a plump, unwanted old woman with no friends. And then how are you going to p
ass the time?" Olivia might have taken her in years ago, but not much fooled her anymore.
"How dare you, you petite salope!" Olivia spit out. "I was only offering my help—
"By following us, spying on us, and then bringing up his past? His past is gone, Olivia." Adrienne wasn't aware she was defending him until she heard herself doing it. "Some people learn from their past, grow better and wiser. My Hawk has done that. You're just angry because you know he's not the man he used to be. If he was, he would have stayed in the gardens with you instead of spending the evening talking with me."
"Talking? He and I used to… talk… like that too. He's just temporarily inflamed with a new body. He'll get over it. And when he does, he'll come back to my bed."
"You're wrong," Adrienne said calmly. "And you know it. That's what really upsets you."
"Old dogs do not learn new tricks, sweet young fool," Olivia sneered.
Adrienne flashed a saccharin smile at the older woman. "Perhaps not. But sometimes dogs give up their old tricks entirely."
"You speak like a woman in love. Yet you wouldn't say his name," Olivia declared, arching a penciled brow.
Adrienne's smile faded. "I speak for both myself and my husband when I suggest you leave Dalkeith at first light, whether the horses are rested or not. You are no longer welcome here. Don't ever come back."
* * * * *
I sure can pick 'em, can't I? she brooded as she picked her way through the garden.
Just as with Eberhard, the boat-deck-tanned playboy elite who'd manipulated her so flawlessly, she'd been a fool for a beautiful illusion. The real beauty had to come from inside. A man called the king's whore… well, what kind of beauty was there in that?
Worse yet was the thought of what she'd been about to do, would have willingly done with the Hawk, if Olivia hadn't come along. His pleas had virtually undone her defenses, and she knew full well that had Olivia not interrupted them, she would even now be lying beneath his magnificent body, just another one of the king's whore's conquests.
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