Mistletoe Mistress

'They'll miss you; things won't be the same…' His voice was deep and gravelly, the words seeming to be dragged up from the depths of him, and almost in the same instant he turned from her with a savage movement that spoke of escape and said, 'More champagne?'

She stood quite still as she watched him cross the room and pour a stream of the golden sparkly liquid into one of the large fluted glasses, her senses reeling. She hadn't imagined the raging desire in his eyes when he had looked at her-she hadn't-but there had been something else too, something…dark. She shivered suddenly, in spite of the perfectly regulated temperature within the building. What on earth had happened in his life to make him look like that? she asked herself weakly, but in the next second she was surrounded by a loud, laughing group who drew her into their midst, forcing her to push her agitation to the back of her mind.

When Hawk joined them, just a moment or two later, he handed her the glass of champagne with a smile and a nod, his face cool and distant and the big body slightly aloof. The brief baring of his soul had gone, to be replaced by the ice man who was in perfect control of himself and those about him-benevolent host, gracious conversationalist, but definitely, overwhelmingly untouchable.

CHAPTER FIVE

The combination of a glass of brandy, two of champagne, and a long day full of emotional turmoil, added to the fact that Joanne had slept badly for the last few nights, ensured that she was asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow that night.

When her neat little bedside alarm woke her at seven the next morning, it was to the realisation that she had completed none of the last-minute preparations she had planned to do on her last evening in England, and that once the taxi had deposited her home the day before she had managed to get up the stairs, into her flat and into bed, and that was all, such had been her exhaustion.

Consequently, the two hours before Hawk arrived were spent in a mad dash that left no room for apprehension or doubts, and when the doorbell rang, spot on nine o'clock, she was just ready.

'Hi.' He was lounging against the outer wall when she opened the door, big and dark in a long charcoal overcoat which was open over a grey business suit and pale blue shirt. His cool self-assurance was staggering.

'You haven't changed your mind, then?' He nodded to her suitcase, placed in readiness at the side of the door, as he spoke, and she forced an answering smile that nearly cracked her face.

'Hardly.'

'It's been done before.' The handsome face was cynical.

'Not by me,' she said carefully. 'If I agree to something I carry it through, difficult though you may find that to believe.'

'I don't find it difficult.' His eyes narrowed to blue slits as he spoke, the intensity of the piercing gaze unnerving, and she had the strange unaccountable impression he was on tenterhooks about something and endeavouring to conceal it-although what she couldn't begin to imagine.

He picked up the lightest of the three cases, tucking it under one arm before lifting the other two, which weighed a ton, with an ease that told her the powerful body was as finely honed as she had suspected.

'Any last-minute goodbyes?' he asked quietly as she joined him on the landing after closing the front door.

'No, just the key to pop through the letterbox of the fiat below.' Now the moment had come she had none of the turmoil of the day before, merely a sense of inevitability. 'I said all my farewells yesterday.'

'Except one.' Dark eyebrows rose quizzically.

'Who?' She stared at him in surprise.

'Me,' he said softly.

'But I haven't left you,' she replied quickly. 'You're coming with me.'

'Ah, yes.' He smiled slowly and her skin began to tingle as the dark, alien side of him took over her senses. 'So our goodbyes are yet to be said?' It was said in a slightly amused voice but again the feeling that there was more below the surface had her staring at him with a straight face, her eyes big and golden in the cream of her skin and her hair framing her face like shimmering fire.

Once in the taxi he chatted easily about this and that, his manner relaxed and informal, but she had her work cut out to appear normal, the proximity of the big muscled body so close to hers sending little shock waves through every nerve and sinew with each tiny movement he made.

'Relax, Joanne.'

'What?' One moment he had been relating an amusing story about a business colleague they both knew, the next the hard blue gaze had fastened on her face and his hand had covered hers, his flesh warm and firm.

'You're nervous, on edge, and there's no need to be,' he said softly.

There's every need. 'I…I know that; I'm fine.'

'Little liar.' It was said quietly, his eyes skimming her face before coming to rest on her mouth, their touch like a warm caress. 'Is it just the unknown that puts that touch of fear in your eyes, Joanne?' he murmured. 'Or are you frightened of me too, of how it could be if you let it happen?'

'What?'

'Don't tell me you haven't felt it because I won't believe it; I've seen the reflection of what I feel in your eyes,' he said huskily. 'You wonder what it would feel like to be close to me, really close, for me to make love to you. You want me, Joanne; you can't deny it. You want me every bit as much as I want you.'

'You're mad.' She stared at him shakily, the fear of which he had spoken turning her eyes dark.

'No, merely honest It's the most natural thing in the world for a man and woman to be attracted to each other; there's nothing wrong in it, and our physical chemistry is so hot it's sizzling.'

'You're talking about an affair.' She couldn't believe this conversation was taking place, but at the same time it was almost as though she had been waiting for just this from the first moment she had laid eyes on him.

'I'm talking about enjoyment, the giving and receiving of pleasure,' he said softly. 'I want you, Joanne, I admit it; I haven't felt like this in a long, long time. We could be good together; I could make you want me in a way you've never wanted a man before.'

'Hawk-'

'What was his name, Joanne, the man who made you retreat into this formidable glass tower you inhabit?' he asked with a sudden intensity. 'Whatever he meant to you, whatever it was like, with me it will be better. I would always be totally honest, there would be no guessing games, no cruelty. When it was over, whoever ended it, it would be quick and final-'

'I don't want a relationship with you.' He was propositioning her on the one hand and telling her he would finish it cleanly on the other? she thought dazedly, anger providing a welcome shot of adrenalin that went some way to quelling the hurt. How dared he? How dared he assume she was just waiting to fall into his arms like an overripe peach? And what about him anyway? If anyone retreated into towers it was him, although his were made of inches-thick steel.

'Yes, you do, although you can't bring yourself to admit it,' he said with an assuredness that hit her on the raw.

She stared at him icily, and something of her utter outrage must have got through because he took his hand from over hers, leaning back in his corner of the cab as he surveyed her with narrowed blue eyes.

'Does my taking the job in France have anything to do with this conversation?' she snapped tightly. 'And I want this wonderful truth that you're always going on about, mind.'

'I offered you the position at Bergique & Son because I feel you would be an asset to the Mallen Corporation,' Hawk said coolly. 'Any personal liaison with me is something quite separate.'

'But it wouldn't go amiss to have a nice warm bed waiting for you when you visit?' she asked tartly. And any emotional involvement would mean he was completely sure of her loyalty to the Mallen empire. That, probably, was what all this was about; he was certainly cold-blooded enough to think that way. Oh, he was just a cynical brute of a man. And to think she had actually been grateful for all his apparent thoughtfulness yesterday, for the way he had steered her through the last difficult goodbyes, for his generosity over the leaving party, for his accompanying her to France to ease the way for her. Ease the way! Fury combined with humiliation at her naivety. It had all been about trying to manipulate her to his will, and in such a