A Woman Without Lies

Suddenly Angel felt wholly vulnerable, as though she were naked and an ice-tipped wind was sweeping down out of the dark sky to claim her.

Angel eased her hands free of Hawk’s. She returned to stroking Derry’s hair, but this time the soothing contact was more for herself than for him.

Silently Hawk watched, following every movement of Angel’s hands, her eyes, the last of the sunlight sliding like a caress over her pale hair. And most of all he watched the slow rise and fall of her breasts beneath midnight silk.

The fact that Hawk wanted Angel didn’t surprise him. The fact that he had wanted to comfort her did.

The sooner I get her into bed, the better. I’ve never seen an actress who portrays both strength and vulnerability so easily.

So convincingly.

Only in bed will the act fall apart, freeing me from her soft fascination and lies.

“What was Derry talking about?” Angel asked after a few minutes of silence.

“You mean the grand tour?” asked Hawk.

Without looking away from Derry, Angel nodded her head in agreement. The motions sent strands of her hair whispering over each other.

Hawk wanted to wrap a curling tendril around his finger and then slowly release it, letting the silk and radiance of Angel’s hair caress the sensitive skin between his fingers.

“I’ve never spent any time in the Pacific Northwest,” Hawk said. “Frankly, I don’t know a damn thing about the countryside. Before I build an enclave of exclusive homes, I want to be sure that I have more to offer buyers than high-priced houses and an expensive resort complex.”

Angel waited, her hands still, her fingers relaxed due to an act of will that made her ache. The thought of selling Eagle Head made her want to cry or scream or plead with Hawk not to buy.

Yet selling Eagle Head was the only way Derry could afford the eight years of advanced education and training that being a surgeon would require.

Angel would not stand in the way of that. No matter how much she loved Eagle Head, she loved Derry more.

“That’s where you come in,” Hawk said, his voice as expressionless as his eyes. “You’re my tour guide.”

“What?” Angel asked, not quite believing she had heard Hawk correctly.

“The way Derry is now, he would have a hell of a time getting in and out of a car, much less a boat,” Hawk said, his voice matter-of-fact.

Angel’s hand stilled.

“Beach walking would be impossible,” Hawk continued. “Especially down these cliff trails.”

Angel said nothing.

“Derry said you could do it,” Hawk said, watching her closely. “In fact, he said you were a better fisherman than he was. Better at clamming, too. He said you could cook like a European chef and knew all the best places to be for a hundred miles in all directions.”

“He exaggerates.”

Hawk shrugged. “It’s up to you.”

Angel looked only at Derry.

Then, coolly, Hawk added, “You do understand that I won’t buy a pig in a poke. No tour, no sale. Sorry, but that’s the way life is. There’s no such thing as a free lunch.”

Hawk watched the realization sink into Angel. No tour. No sale.

And no money for her twenty-five percent of the land.

Derry had told Hawk about that – Angel and a quarter of Eagle Head. Hawk assumed that it was payment for services rendered. How else could Angel afford to laze away three months of the year and her holidays, too?

Somebody had to pay for the privilege of Angel’s company. A quarter interest in Eagle Head wasn’t bad wages for three years of “work.”

Angel didn’t see Hawk’s cynical appraisal of her. She was watching Derry, seeing the shadows of pain and sleeplessness beneath his tanned skin. Derry looked very young, but she knew that he wasn’t. Not really.

No one who had lived through the wreck three years ago would ever be young again. Inexperienced, yes. Young, no.

Angel sighed.

Derry must like Hawk very much to promise him me as a tour guide, Angel thought unhappily.

Derry, too, must have sensed the loneliness beneath Hawk’s proud surface. As lonely as a hawk riding a cold wind. And as compelling.

Power and grace and darkness, eyes that see all the way through to the core.

Angel’s hand hesitated over Derry’s hair, then resumed stroking him almost absently.

There’s no real reason not to show Hawk the leisure possibilities of the Pacific Northwest. I would spend my summer roaming the Vancouver Island and the Inside Passage anyway.

It’s hardly too much to ask that I take Hawk along, and in so doing help Derry fulfill a dream.

Angel looked up at Hawk, not surprised to find that he had been watching her. She met his hard, enigmatic eyes without flinching.

“How long will you need me?” Angel asked calmly.

A corner of Hawk’s mouth turned down in a cynical curve. Not more than a night or two, I’ll bet.

But the thought went no further than Hawk’s narrowed eyes. When he spoke, his voice was smooth, without emotion of any kind.

“Six weeks at most,” Hawk said. “That’s all the time I can afford. I have several other land deals coming together.”

Hawk frowned faintly. He had an intricate, interlocking network of stock and land sales that should culminate within six weeks. Then he would either be a great deal richer or he would get to start all over again.

Either way, it would be exciting.

That was what mattered to Hawk. Not the money, but the adrenaline. He had made and lost several fortunes since he quit racing. As in racing, he preferred winning in business to losing or crashing.

But win or lose, the adrenaline flowed. The discovery, the pursuit, the kill. The endless cycle, endlessly exciting, telling Hawk that he was alive.

“Six weeks,” repeated Angel, keeping her voice level with an effort.

“On and off. I’ll be flying in and out.” Hawk gave Angel a dark-eyed glance. “We can hammer out a tentative schedule. You tell me what’s available to see and do, and we’ll figure out the best times for both of us.”

Angel nodded absently.

“No promises,” Hawk added. “I may not like what I see. If I don’t, no sale.”

Angel looked at Derry. Despite the barbiturate’s embrace, he stirred restively and made a small sound. His pain had merely been put at a greater distance, not vanquished.

For an instant Angel’s hand hesitated in its soothing journey as she realized how many times Derry had sat by her bed, watched her restless sleep, and heard her whimper as unconsciousness released the harsh guard she kept on her emotions.

So many times she had awakened to his affectionate smile and encouraging You look better today.

There was really no question about helping Derry. If Hawk needed Angel as a guide for six weeks or six years, she would be there.

Gently, Angel’s hand resumed smoothing back Derry’s springy blond hair.

“Fine,” Angel said quietly, not looking up at Hawk again. “Whatever is necessary.”

Chapter 5