Mistletoe Mistress

feeling-and she could understand Hawk's insistence that Pierre was virtually barred from crossing the firm's threshold now, although she had thought him a trifle hard when he had first told her.

'Perhaps you would allow me the pleasure of taking you to lunch one day?' The charm was out in fall force, but it was too late; she had seen the man behind the mask and they both knew it.

'Thank you but I'm going to be busy for the next little while getting everything together,' Joanne said politely. 'Maybe after then?' Again they both knew there would be no lunch.

'Of course; just let me know when it will be convenient,' Pierre murmured with silky synthetic civility. 'And now you really must excuse me-a previous appointment…'

Joanne breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed behind him, her body deflating in the chair like a punctured balloon. What a creep, but a crafty, astute creep, which also made him dangerous, and that was what she had to remember. He had been fooling people for years until Hawk had come on the scene and spoilt his little games; she had to be on her guard and take nothing for granted.

The next few weeks were challenging, frustrating, exhausting, at times stimulating and other times disappointing, but despite the hard, grinding work, long hours and mental and physical tiredness Joanne welcomed the pace. It made her so numb, so exhausted by the end of the day that all she could do was fall into bed and slip into a deep, dreamless sleep, sometimes without even having eaten her evening meal. But she could keep her thoughts away from Hawk and that was the main thing.

Sometimes she awoke, at the shrill command of her militant alarm clock, with his name on her lips and the faint recollection of shadowed memories buried deep in her subconscious, but mostly she could steel herself to deal solely with the job in hand, and she was glad of it.

He had rung two or three times a week since she had been in France, and she always came off the phone a quivering heap and desperately thankful he couldn't see how the sound of his deep, husky, totally male voice affected her.

Useless to tell herself he was ringing purely to see how the Mallen investment was progressing, that she meant nothing to him, that she was one of dozens, hundreds, of women whom he would invite to share his bed if he felt so inclined. She heard his voice and she melted; it was as simple-and as humiliating-as that.

So in the middle of November, on a particularly foul Friday when the rain was slashing at the windows of her office and nothing had gone right, she viewed the apparition in her office doorway as a figment of her fevered imagination and nothing else. Until it spoke, that was.

'Busy?'

Busy? She stared at Hawk as her brain struggled to respond. He was lounging against the open door, big and dark in a heavy leather jacket and black jeans, which were as different from the designer business suits he normally wore as chalk from cheese. The sight of him stopped her breath.

She forced herself to talk, to say something. 'I didn't know you were coming.'

'Neither did I until this morning.' He didn't move or smile.

She waited for him to elaborate, and, when he didn't, rose quietly from behind her desk, setting her face in a polite smile of welcome befitting a humble employee greeting the illustrious head of the Mallen Corporation. 'It's nice to see you again; is there anything specific you want to see me about?' she asked quietly.

'Don't tempt me, Joanne.' The look in his eyes was so blatant, and so sexual, that she blushed hotly as she held out one small hand for him to shake, and when he simply took her fingers in his and drew her close for a moment, his eyes roaming over her face before he kissed her lips in a light stroking movement that was over as soon as it had begun, she was still too stunned at his sudden appearance to offer any resistance.

'So…' He stepped back a pace, watching her with glittering eyes. 'Have you missed me?' he asked with the Mallen arrogance.

'Missed you?' How could he get so instantly under her skin? she asked herself angrily. 'Of course not.'

'Liar.' It was said matter-of-factly but still grated unbearably, tightening her mouth and narrowing her eyes.

'Hawk, I'm here to work and work I have,' she declared firmly. 'What on earth makes you think I've missed you?'

'Because it's impossible for me to have been feeling the way I have without you feeling something similar.' It was so surprising, and so unexpected, revealing as it did the man beneath the cool, arrogant exterior, that she just stared at him without saying anything. 'I've been sleeping you, eating you, tasting you,' he said softly. 'It's driving me nuts, Joanne. Every time I shut my eyes at night there's a slender titian beauty there, with honeygold eyes and the sort of figure that makes a man ache.'

'Hawk-'

'It makes me ache-hell, how it makes me ache,' he murmured huskily. 'I'm in and out of that damn shower all night.'

'You're talking about sexual attraction-'

'I know; believe me, I know,' he agreed with a sardonic lift of his eyebrows.

'And I'm sure a man of your considerable experience could easily find a number from his little black book to take care of things,' she continued firmly, as though he hadn't interrupted. She was not going to be swept back into his orbit and then discarded so abruptly again; she just wasn't.

'Perhaps I haven't got a little black book?' he suggested softly.

'And perhaps pigs fly?' Joanne said sweetly, desperately glad the trembling in her stomach hadn't communicated itself to her voice.

'You think I'm the worst sort of philanderer, don't you?' It was a statement, not a question. 'And after I've been so restrained too,' he added sadly.

'Huh.' She had seen the wickedly amused glitter in the sapphire eyes and she wasn't fooled.

'Enough of this sparkling repartee.' He grabbed her suddenly, lifting her up and swinging her round as he kicked the door shut. 'You're going to spend the weekend with me.' It was another statement rather than an invitation.

'I am not.' It was hard to think while held close to his big masculine body, but the answer was instinctive anyway. He looked so good, he smelt so good, she wouldn't dare spend time with him.

'Reconsider.' He kissed her again, but this time it was no brief salutation but a long, deep, hard invasion that sent every nerve and sinew into overdrive. She found her arms snaking up to his broad shoulders and had to clench her fingers to restrain them, determined not to give in to the quivering hot excitement. 'Please?' he added softly as he lifted his head.

'No, I'm here to work-'

'Not at the weekends; even the wicked slave-driver Hawk Mallen doesn't expect that. Besides, you've been working too hard,' he said with sudden seriousness. 'You've lost weight, you look drawn.'

'Oh, thank you so much,' she muttered sarcastically, trying to pull away but knowing she wouldn't have any effect on the steel-hard arms. So he didn't like the way she looked now?

'But even more beautiful,' he added gently, his mouth twisting with amusement at her reaction. 'You have an ethereal quality now, as though a breath of wind would blow you away.'

'Hawk, let go of me.' She turned her head towards the door, worried Antoinette and the rest of the office staff would wonder why the door was shut, or, worse still, knock and walk straight in. Antoinette would make a meal of such a tasty titbit.

'Not till you agree to spend the weekend with me,' he said firmly. 'I can stay like this all afternoon; I'm enjoying it.' There was swollen evidence to prove he meant what he said, his hard body stirring against the soft swell of her stomach even as he spoke, and making her legs feel weak at his alien masculinity.

'What…what do you mean by 'spend the weekend'?' she asked breathlessly, fighting against the urge to arch against his maleness, and then betraying her arousal helplessly with a tiny moan as one large hand stroked a sensual path from her throat to her waist, lingering possessively on the swell of one ripe breast.

'I want to show you France, my suspicious little siren.' He moved her slightly from him in order to look down into her flushed face. 'Although I can be persuaded otherwise,' he added softly. 'My hotel room has the biggest double bed you've ever seen-'