Warrior's Embrace (24 page)

“It was the only way I could get their
attention. That was over a small zoning problem.”

“It wasn’t so small, as I recall. You were
trying to keep one of our city’s few remaining tracts of wooded
land from being turned into an industrial park.”

“The industrial parks we have are not filled.
If the planning commission had gotten its way, there would soon be
no place left for the people of Tombigbee Bluff.”

They set up the board and started another
game as they talked. Hawk checkmated her in an amazingly short
time.

“Don’t expect to always win so easily.”

“But I do.” He smiled. “I don’t think you’re
paying attention.”

It was true. Only half her mind was on the
game; the other half was on her opponent. She vowed to herself to
do better.

They both played with savage intensity. When
she threatened his king, conversation ceased.

The room was perfectly still except for the
occasional click of marble chess pieces against the board. Outside,
a summer rain began to fall, tapping lightly against the
windowpanes and the old tin roof of Elizabeth’s ancestral home.
Gentle breezes stirred the pine trees to a melodic whispering.

Black Hawk looked up from the chessboard.
“It’s cozy in here, Elizabeth... just the two of us.”

She didn’t comment, but she had felt the
coziness as well. After living as a virtual recluse, it felt good
to have a guest in her house, to share a simple game of chess.

They gazed at each other over the chessboard
for a long time, and then, almost self-consciously, they both
turned their attention back to the game. Both reached out at the
same time, and their hands collided over one of her pawns.

“Pardon me,” she whispered.

“I believe it was my turn,” he said.

“Certainly.”

She forced her attention back to her chess
pieces, and played out the game to its conclusion. The rain had
picked up speed and was whipping the house in a fury by the time
Elizabeth and Hawk had made all their moves.

“I believe this is stalemate,” he said.

“So it is. Nobody won.”

“You re right. Neither of us won.” His eyes
seemed to burn through her. “Another game?”

“No. It’s very late.”

She straightened the chess pieces and left
the board set for a new game, while he sat in the chair, watching
her. Her gaze slid sideways. His naked chest was still crisscrossed
with marks, but they were no longer red and angry.

He was healing rapidly. Soon he would be
gone.

“You are responsible, Elizabeth.”

“For what?”

“My rapid healing.”

“Do you read minds?”

“No. I read faces. You were watching me,
studying my wounds.”

She didn’t bother to deny it.

“You have skilled hands, Elizabeth,” he
added.

The double meaning in his words was
intentional, she was sure.

“Good night, Black Hawk,” she said, careful
to use both his names.

“Sweet dreams, Elizabeth.”

Upstairs in her bedroom, she undressed and
drew her bath, taking her time. She was in no hurry to go to bed.
The bed hadn’t been a sanctuary for her for a very long time.

Dressed in a gown of vivid blue, she stood at
the window, looking out at the rain. Downstairs Hawk would be
climbing into bed. Perhaps he was already there, stretched out
naked on the sheets.

All the feelings he had unleashed in her came
roaring to the surface, a raging river sweeping away everything in
its path. She turned from the window and actually started across
the room, when she heard Mark Laton’s parting words echoing from
her past.

“Your first mistake was in trusting me. Your
second was in falling in love. I didn’t hurt you, Elizabeth. You
hurt yourself.”

She stood very still, torn by indecision and
doubts. She had been running ever since she came back from Yale,
hiding herself away in her shuttered house, defining her life by
working hours at the bank, weekends with Aunt Kathleen, and the few
pitiful social exchanges she allowed. Safe. Her life was safe.

And she was stifling herself to death.

Her silk gown whispered as she walked toward
her door. She was going to Hawk. He had said the next move was up
to her, and she was making it.

But this time she was older, smarter, and
much, much wiser. She was not going downstairs expecting love and
marriage, a cottage for two, and happily ever after. She was merely
seeking companionship and release. Two days, three, and then it
would be over. Nobody would be hurt. Hawk would leave, and she’d go
back to her safe life.

She hurried, excitement pulsing through her.
When she reached his door, she didn’t hesitate, but pushed it open
and walked boldly inside.

The rain still whipped at the windows, and
not even a sliver of moonlight relieved the intense blackness. She
strained her eyes, searching for Hawk among the shadows.

“You came.” His voice was strong and
beautiful. If he had been aroused from sleep, she couldn’t tell
it.

“Yes.” Now that she was in his room, she
hesitated, not sure how to proceed.

“I knew you would.”

“Did you?”

Attuned now to the darkness, she saw him get
off the bed. He was tall and noble and magnificent as he walked
slowly toward her.

“Yes. I’ve already claimed you. You’re mine,
Elizabeth.”

Hawk had known Elizabeth would come to him.
Stretched on top of his bed still dressed in jeans and moccasins,
he had waited for her. Now he released her and snapped on the small
lamp.

“Why?” she asked, nodding toward the
light.

“I want to see you.” Slowly he circled her,
taking her in from all angles. Her gown was slashed to the waist,
front and back, and slit high on both sides. She had a beautifully
defined body, tight musculature, satiny skin.

“Walk for me, Elizabeth,” he commanded
softly.

She moved with the grace of a woman aware of
her own sexuality and comfortable with it. The satin gown revealed
long, enticing glimpses of leg. Her hair was down, rippling like a
bolt of black silk in the lamplight.

When she reached the door, she placed her
hand on the handle as if she intended to leave, then glanced at him
over her shoulder.

“You won’t leave until you get what you
want,” he said.

She turned slowly. “No. I won’t go until I
have you, Hawk,” she whispered. “Every inch of you.”

She arched one shoulder and her gown strap
slid down as far as her elbow. With her gaze smoky and promising,
she reached across and pushed the strap over her wrist.

As he started toward her, she lifted her long
hair off her neck and let it filter through her fingers. Hawk
peeled her gown away until it lay in a dark blue pool at their
feet. He explored her then, taking his time.

At last, when her knees threatened to buckle,
Hawk lifted her and carried her to the bed. With her dark hair
spread against the white sheets, she looked exotic, almost
native.

He put his hand on his belt, but she reached
up and stopped him. “I want to undress you.”

“Yes,” he said.

She sat up and pressed her face against his
stomach. Her warm breath fanned his skin, and her tongue sent
shivers through him.

“You still wear your knife.” She pulled his
weapon from his belt. The blade glinted in the lamplight.

“A warrior is always prepared.”

She ran her fingers over his blue-jean-clad
thighs. “I can see that.”

There was a whispering sound as she slid his
jeans off. Hawk poised above her, drawing out the anticipation
until the room was fairly humming with tension. Elizabeth raked one
fingernail lightly down his chest and across his abdomen.

“Show me, Hawk.”

For a very long while time suspended. And
when he finally cried out his release in Muskhogean, the language
of his people, he gathered her close. She was so still, he thought
she had fallen asleep; then she lifted herself on one elbow and
looked down at him, smiling.

“Do you think the battle is over, Hawk?”

He cupped one cheek, tangling his fingers in
her damp hair. “Do you dare challenge me?”

“Yes.”

He laughed, delighted with her. She was all
he had imagined and more—much, much more.

“You’re a sorceress,” he said.

And then they were lost.

Just before dawn pinked the sky, she gathered
her silk gown off the floor and stole across the room. Hawk lay
against the sheets, watching her go. When she reached the door, he
spoke.

“You are mine, Elizabeth.”

“No, Hawk,” she said, turning slowly. “You
are
mine.”

The door closed softly behind her. Hawk
closed his eyes, smiling.

Outside in the hallway, Elizabeth leaned
against the door, her heart hammering. What had happened? Hawk was
no longer a need she could satisfy, someone she could make love to
and walk away from: He was an obsession.

Elizabeth turned and ran her hands lightly
across the bedroom door. “Sleep well, my noble warrior,” she
whispered, then walked away.

o0o

She didn’t see him the next morning before
she left for work. Considering how they had spent the night, she
supposed he was sleeping.

Elizabeth was too energized to sleep. When
she entered her workplace, she felt as if she could accomplish
miracles. She caught herself humming aloud as she sat at her desk
going over her morning reports.

“My goodness,” she said to herself, laughing.
Then she swiveled her chair and looked out the window. She saw Hawk
everywhere, in the solid oak tree that graced the corner of the
bank parking lot, in the hot sun pouring through the window, in the
bird that suddenly rose from the branches and soared toward the
sky. It was only a blackbird, but still she thought of Hawk.

She spent the day dreaming about him. She
imagined what he would say to her when she got home from work. She
imagined what he would do, where he would take her, where he would
touch her. It was all she could do to stay in the bank until
closing time. Twice she thought of pleading sickness and going
home, just to be with Hawk.

“Elizabeth McCade,” she whispered to herself
when the day was finally over and she was roaring down the highway
toward home, “you are a wild woman.” Then she threw back her head
and laughed. It felt good to be wild and free again.

o0o

Hawk met her at the front door.

“I’ve waited for you all day,” he said,
pinning her against the wall, exploring her with his lips and his
hands.

She dropped her purse and her car keys onto
the wooden floor as she wrapped her arms around him. She didn’t
care where they landed.

Their passion escalated quickly, exploding in
a frenzy that left them both panting.

“I’ve wanted this all day, Hawk,” she said,
leaning her head against his chest.”

“So have I, Elizabeth.”

He carried her upstairs, placed her on the
bed, and tenderly undressed her. She lay quietly while he went into
the bathroom. She heard the taps turning, heard water running,
heard the rattle of bottles as he found bubble bath and dumped it
in the tub.

She stretched, feeling languorous and
decadent. When he came back into the room, she smiled at him.

“There’s nothing like having a love slave in
the house,” she said.

He stalked her, his eyes bright with
laughter. When he was standing over the bed, he slowly stripped off
his jeans. “Who is the slave, Elizabeth? You or me?”

“Both of us,” she whispered, reaching for
him, reminded of the words they had spoken on the cellar stairs the
first day he had come into her life.

He carried her into the bathroom, and
together they got into the tub, heedless of the tight squeeze. They
frolicked in the bubble bath, laughing and teasing each other.
Their play quickly changed to passion, and they came together in
the water.

Afterward, he wrapped her in a towel and
carried her to the bed again. She traced the scars on his wet
chest.

“You’ll be leaving soon.”

“Yes. We don’t have much time left
together.”

“How long?”

“Until tomorrow.” He cupped her face,
circling his thumbs on her chin. “I leave tomorrow, Elizabeth.”

The evening shadows lengthened and the moon
started its course across the night sky. Hawk and Elizabeth never
noticed. Stars came out, one by one, reflecting their brightness
against the windowpanes, but the two on the bed paid them no
heed.

o0o

Around midnight a visitor came calling. He
padded lightly through the kitchen and sneaked quietly up the
stairs. He hesitated on the landing a moment, getting his bearings,
then he eased through the half-open door of Elizabeth’s
bedroom.

Hawk clamped his hand over Elizabeth’s mouth
at the same time he reached for his knife. He searched the
darkness, looking for a shadow, a glimpse of light clothing,
anything that would give him a clue about the intruder. There was
nothing... only the soft scurrying sound that had alerted him, and
the instinctive sense that he and Elizabeth were not alone.

He decided to take an aggressive posture.
Still holding his hand securely over Elizabeth’s mouth, he
spoke.

“I have a knife, and it’s aimed at your
heart. Make one move, and you are dead.” With the blade poised to
throw, he released Elizabeth and snapped on the bedside lamp.

A big tomcat marched across the floor and
took his position in a cat basket beside the window.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a cat,
Elizabeth?”

“I don’t. He’s a stray who sometimes comes to
visit.”

“How does he get in? Through that old cat
door in the kitchen?”

“Yes.”

“You have a soft heart for strays, don’t
you?” He smiled.

“Only cats, dogs, birds. Especially birds.”
She ran her hands through his hair.