Hawk hesitated. “Can you move your shoulder blades, twist around a bit?”
“Why?”
“You’ve only bled about six drops. That’s not enough to clean out the deepest part of the wound.”
Angel rotated her shoulder blades slowly. Her sweater slipped down her back. She gathered the soft folds and pulled them over her head with an impatient motion.
Hawk’s breath shortened at the satin sheen and movement of Angel’s skin. She wore no more on her back than a wisp of apricot bra and two bright drops of blood, one on each wound left by the hook as it stitched through her flesh. Despite her movements, no more blood came.
“This will hurt,” said Hawk.
It was his only warning. One arm slid around Angel’s waist and the other crossed just above her breasts as he bent his mouth to her back. He sucked hard on first one wound, then the other. The force of his suction drew blood, which naturally cleansed her flesh.
After an initial, sharp breath, Angel neither moved nor protested. The intimacy of Hawk’s hard arms and lips held her motionless. His mouth should have hurt her, but all she felt was his heat and strength.
For an instant before Hawk lifted his head, Angel thought she felt his mouth soften and caress her. When she turned to look at him, she saw a drop of her blood on his lips.
“Are you all right?” asked Hawk.
His voice was husky in the odd, breathless silence that had closed around the cabin.
Angel nodded. Her fingertip slowly came up to Hawk’s mouth. Before she could touch the crimson trembling on his lip, his tongue moved, absorbing the drop. His eyes darkened almost to black as the salt-sweet taste of her spread through him. Slowly he stood and pulled Angel to her feet.
“You’re pale,” he said softly. “Lie down on the forward bunk. I’ll bring in the salve and bandages.”
Angel swayed slightly. She felt weak, almost dizzy – and foolish. It was Hawk’s closeness, not pain, that was affecting her so strongly.
With a swift movement, Hawk opened the small door on the far side of the cockpit. Gently he helped Angel onto the triangular bed that filled the space beneath the bow. She lay facedown, listening to him move about the cabin behind her. There was enough room for her to sit up in the bow, but she didn’t. She was content to just to lie quietly, waiting for Hawk to come to her.
Angel heard Hawk’s smooth step, felt the mattress give as he sat next to her, and then the sudden, breathtaking release of the catch on her bra. A warm washcloth moved gently down her back, bathing away the last of the blood.
“Hurt?” asked Hawk, his voice gritty.
“No.”
Angel’s answer was barely a breath.
For a few moments there was only the soft sound of a damp cloth moving over skin. A pause, then Hawk’s fingers replaced the cloth.
“Such beautiful skin,” murmured Hawk. “Smooth, golden.”
He bent down. His mustache brushed over Angel’s shoulder.
“You smell like summer,” he said in a deep voice.
Angel’s breath stopped. Chills moved visibly over her, a helpless response to the silky touch of Hawk.
“This may sting,” he said, sitting up as though nothing had happened.
The salve was cool, as smooth as Hawk’s voice and fingers caressing her. Angel sighed, breathing again, her arms bent and her hands tucked beneath her chin.
Hawk pressed a bandage lightly into place over the twin puncture wounds. He gathered up the ends of Angel’s bra as though to fasten it in place again.
Then he let the lacy material slide from his fingers as he smoothed aside her braid and bent to kiss the nape of her neck.
Angel felt the heat of Hawk’s breath, his mouth, his chest rubbing lightly over her as he caressed the sensitive skin at the base of her neck. She shivered and would have turned over to face him, but Hawk put his hands on her shoulders, chaining her.
His mouth caressed her neck, her hairline, the curve of her skull; and then his hard tongue teased her ears. She moaned and moved reflexively, slowly, arching like a cat to increase the pressure of Hawk’s mouth.
Hawk murmured thickly as he slid the bra straps off Angel’s shoulders with a single swift motion of his hands. His tongue and teeth traced the graceful line of her back down to the sensitive hollow hidden beneath her black jeans. His hands caressed her calves, her thighs, the taut curve of her hips, the heat between her thighs, and all the while his mouth devoured her delicately, ravenously, a sensual assault that was like nothing Angel had ever experienced.
Only when Angel was twisting helplessly beneath Hawk’s knowing touch did he allow her to roll over. He pulled the bra free as she moved and threw it aside. His eyes blazed darkly, pupils dilated until there was little color, only desire.
Angel was more beautiful than Hawk had expected. She was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. Flawless gold skin swelling into nipples flushed deepest rose, her eyes a soft green fire watching him, wanting him.
When he bent his mouth to her breasts, she tried to speak.
“Hawk – ”
“Hush,” he said, his voice gritty.
He wanted only silence and Angel’s beauty, her body’s heat surrounding him. It was too soon for the cold rain of lies to begin.
Hawk’s mouth closed over Angel’s breast, pulling the nipple deeply into his mouth.
The words she had been going to say scattered in the explosion of sensations radiating through her. She moaned and twisted slowly against his caressing mouth in a feminine demand that was as old as desire.
Yet it was new to Angel. Grant had never taken her into his mouth, had never scraped his teeth gently, savagely, over her until she wanted to scream with pleasure, had never stroked her with his tongue until she shivered and cried out. Grant had been cautious of the passion that consumed him each time he touched Angel.
Hawk was not.
Hawk let the currents of desire drive both of them to the heights of need. And then his hands moved quickly over Angel, taking her clothes, leaving her naked to his touch. His fingers tangled in the golden mound of hair below her navel, testing lightly the heat and hunger of her, rubbing over her, teasing her until she shuddered with the tension building in her, consuming her.
“Hawk – ”
His hand moved skillfully, heat showering, words stopping in Angel’s throat.
But not for long.
“Hawk – I’m not – experienced.”
The words came between the shudders of sensual tension that racked Angel’s body, teaching her more than she had ever thought to know about need and pleasure. She didn’t see the cold curl at the corner of Hawk’s mouth or the narrowing of his eyes, his savage anger that the lies had started so soon.
When Angel opened her eyes again, Hawk was naked, swooping down on her, covering her with his body like a raptor mantling its prey. She had no time to speak or think or conceal the cry of pain that came when he took her.
Hawk froze, astonishment and hunger struggling for control of his body until his emotions exploded into a searing rage.
But even as Hawk denied it, he knew that Angel hadn’t lied.
The shock of Angel’s truth went through Hawk, shaking his certainties as nothing had since he was eighteen and his world had been shattered by a woman’s lies.
Like a cornered animal, Hawk fought to protect himself by attacking Angel.
“Hawk – ” Angel said hoarsely.
She moved reflexively, trying to ease the pressure of him inside her. The motion took control away from him,
