Witchchild Read online

  'I was just twenty when I married,' he ground out, looking as if he would like to pick her up and bodily shake her. 'And the situation was entirely different. My wife and I grew up together, we always knew we would marry.'

  'Okay, so it didn't happen this way for you, but that doesn't mean there isn't such a thing as love at first sight,' Leonie reasoned. 'Or that that isn't the way it happened for Laura and Hal,' she defended.

  He sighed. 'I'm not denying that at this moment in his life Hal is sure he does feel that way about your sister, it's her feelings for him that I doubt,' he bit out grimly.

  'Because your name is Sinclair and hers is Brandon, because you're rich and we're not so rich, because—'

  'The reasons for my doubting the sincerity of her feelings are, as you are so ably proving, too many and would take too long to go into individually,' he told her impatiently. 'Besides which, Hal still has a long way to go before he knows the business as well as he'll need to to take over from me one day. He's going to be travelling extensively over the next few years.'

  'Laura could go with him—'

  'And no doubt she'd want to take her sister along too,' he sneered.

  Leonie chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip. 'Have you always been rich?' she asked at last.

  'Always,' he admitted without apology for the fact. 'My father founded the Sinclair hotels, and by the time I was born they were already a worldwide concern.'

  She nodded. 'Then I suppose you must have a pretty good idea of what it's like to be pursued just for your money.'

  'Yes, I—I believe I was just insulted,' he drawled irritably.

  Her eyes were widely innocent. 'Really? I can't imagine by whom.'

  'Leonie,' he began reasoningly, 'I do not intend to let your sister marry my son.'

  She grimaced. 'I was afraid you were still going to feel that way.'

  Hawk eyed her suspiciously. 'Afraid?' he repeated slowly.

  'Don't look so wary,' she chided. 'I'm not threatening you. Good gracious, do I look as if I could threaten anyone?' She looked down pointedly at her childlike body.

  'It's the non-violent threats that are usually the most dangerous,' he replied.

  She sighed. 'Well, I'm not making any kind of threat. I was just going to tell you that of the two of us Laura is the more practical one—'

  'So practical she knew a meal-ticket when she saw it,' scorned Hawk.

  Leonie gave him a censorious frown. 'When I get Winnie in a seemingly unsolvable situation Laura is always the one who—'

  'I know I'm going to hate myself for asking, but who is Winnie?' he prompted irritably. 'Not one of your cats?'

  She shook her head with a smile. 'The detective in our books,' she supplied. 'No matter how unlikely the situation—and believe me, I've thought of a few over the years—'

  'Oh, I believe you,' he muttered.

  Her eyes glowed with humour. 'Laura is always the one who comes up with the solution to the problem.'

  'I'm surprised anyone reads your books at all; it's difficult to relate to a man named Winnie— even if you did once have one as Prime Minister over here!' Hawk sneered.

  She arched mocking brows. 'That coming from a man with a name like Hawk?'

  'Henry Hawker Sinclair the Second,' he corrected dryly.

  She blinked at the length of the title. 'Then Hal is…?'

  'Henry Hawker Sinclair the Third,' he confirmed softly. 'My father was called Harry, by his friends— none of his enemies was ever brave enough to come forward and say what they called him!' he drawled. 'I was called Hawk to avoid confusion, and now my son is called Hal for the same reason.'

  'What's wrong with Henry?'

  'About the same thing that's wrong with Winnie,' He returned mockingly.

  'Henry seems a good solid name to me,' she shrugged. 'By the way,' she added as an afterthought, 'Winnie is a woman. Now, about Laura—'

  'You write about a female detective?' he said disbelievingly.

  'Are you a chauvinist, Hawk?' she taunted.

  'Not at all, Leonie,' he drawled. 'I was just a little surprised. I don't know why I should have been! Is Winnie as kooky as you?'

  She smiled. 'Things—happen to her,' she nodded.

  'I'll just bet they do,' he jeered. 'You were going to tell me about your practical sister Laura,' he reminded her dryly.

  She sobered. 'Maybe that's the wrong word to have used. Sensible might be a better way of putting—'

  'Believing herself in love with a nineteen-year-old boy is sensible!' scoffed Hawk.

  'I doubt if Hal was any more as innocently gullible as you're making him out to be than he was naive,' Leonie reproved. 'He gives the impression of having always been mature.'

  The man seated opposite her gave a heavy sigh, his eyes narrowed. 'There's nothing wrong with bringing your child up to be independent.'

  'I'm sure there isn't,' she soothed. 'I was just pointing out that Hal is hardly your typical nineteen-year-old.'

  'No—he's a potentially very rich nineteen-year-old,' his father grated.

  'You're going to upset Laura with that sort of talk, you know,' she chided. 'She's very sensitive about the age difference.'

  'Not sensitive enough to stop seeing Hal!'

  'That's the trouble,' Leonie sighed. 'She will if you ask her to.'

  He gave an inclination of his head. 'Then I'll ask her to,' he drawled. 'End of problem.'

  'You don't really believe that.' She shook her head. 'Laura will be heartbroken if you ask this of them—something I'm sure isn't going to bother you too much!—but Hal will resent your interference in his life.'

  'He'll get over it,' his father dismissed harshly.

  'Would you have "got over" loving your wife if your father had disapproved?'

  Hawk gave an impatient frown. 'The situation never arose.'

  Leonie stood up restlessly. 'Because the woman you loved was suitable.'

  'She came from a prominent Texas family, yes,' he admitted grudgingly.

  'Rich,' Leonie drawled. 'Maybe we don't have a lot of money, but Laura is rich in such a lot of other ways—she's kind, totally loyal to those she cares about, and she cares for Hal so much. Oh, Hawk,' she went down on her knees beside his chair, her hands resting imploringly on his legs, 'don't break my sister's heart!'

  He flinched back at her close proximity, the tension slow to leave his body. 'Leonie,' he sighed, 'I can't, in all conscience, approve of this marriage. They've only known each other three weeks, damn it!'

  'You're getting over-anxious again,' she warned lightly. 'Would you give your approval if they'd known each other three months, six months, a year, say?' She looked up at him with excited green eyes.

  He frowned. 'Why do I have the feeling I'm being set up?'

  'Oh, come on, Hawk, answer the question,' she cajoled.

  'Yes, I—' He gave an impatient shrug. 'I suppose any of them might be more encouraging than three weeks!'

  'Twenty-four days,' Leonie corrected. 'I think Laura could even tell you down to the minutes and seconds if you asked her,' she said fondly. 'They met at the hotel Hal is managing over here at the moment, you know,' she added teasingly. 'There was a meeting of authors there, and Laura went along as one of the guest speakers.' She eyed him mockingly as he scowled. 'Thinking about having the conference facilities ripped out?'

  'Thinking about it,' he acknowledged grimly.

  'I shouldn't,' she patted his hand. 'They've met now. So what you're really afraid of is that their love for each other won't last?' she returned to their previous conversation without any loss of the intensity of the subject.

  'What I'm really afraid of is that I seem to have lost control of this conversation,' scowled Hawk. 'I get the distinct feeling I'm being manoeuvred— and I don't like it.'

  She could see that, she realised he was a man who liked to be in control at all times. It was only that she wanted to make things right for Laura and Hal, and this man had it in his power to destroy the beauty of t
heir love. 'I wouldn't do that, Hawk,' she told him truthfully. 'I'm just trying to come up with a compromise that will make everyone happy.'

  'I'd be happy if Hal never saw your sister again,' he drawled.

  'No, you wouldn't,' Leonie shook her head confidently. 'Hal could make life very uncomfortable for you if he chose to do so.'

  'I thought we'd already established that I don't like threats.' His eyes were narrowed.

  'Just as we established that I don't make threats,' she nodded. 'I was just going to point out that Hal would naturally be unhappy—'

  'And he would make my life hell,' Hawk acknowledged ruefully. Even as a kid Hal had been able to make his displeasure felt. And he was definitely no longer a child. If he had been this situation would never have arisen!

  If only this little witchchild would get her hands off his thighs he might be able to think straight!

  The jolt his body had received when she first touched him had had very little to do with surprise, more like shock, an electric shock that had momentarily rendered him helpless. And now that his equilibrium was returning he shifted uncomfortably, his denims suddenly uncomfortably tight. He didn't enjoy having to hide his arousal, because the woman he had been aroused by was the last one who should have evoked such a reaction within him!

  Was she doing it on purpose, this little witch-child? The absolute candour in her sparkling green eyes seemed to say no.

  Her fingers were lightly kneading his flesh now, and she seemed completely unaware of the turmoil she was causing inside him!

  He stood up impatiently, feeling regretful as she overbalanced slightly at the abruptness of his movement, but leaving her to straighten without his assistance, knowing that he daren't touch her right now, that to do so could be his downfall.

  Instead he attacked. 'How the hell many more cats are going to walk through here?' The incongruousness of the question struck him as much as it must her, but he knew he just had to talk about something that would take his mind off the throbbing ache in his thighs.

  Leonie sat back on her heels, eyeing him curiously. 'How many have you seen?'

  'Three—no, four,' Hawk corrected as he remembered the grey tabby he had seen stretched out in the hallway when he arrived.

  She nodded. 'Then there are just two more. That's probably Daffodil and Pansy.'

  'Who the hell has six cats?' he derided impatiently.

  'I do,' she shrugged. 'Daffodil, Daisy, Tulip, Pansy, Rose, and Pop. That's short for Poppy,' she explained. 'I only found out after I'd named him that he was a boy.'

  'You named all your cats after flowers?' He looked at her disbelievingly.

  Her eyes widened. 'Why not?'

  Why not indeed? Someone in a professional capacity could probably give him a lucid answer to that, but it was obvious there wasn't going to be one from this woman! Being in her company for too long was a little like being in a room with a bomb, unsure if it were active or not! She was strange with a capital S.

  Then why did she intrigue him more than any other woman had for a very long time? If her sister was anything like her no wonder Hal was so enthralled with her; predictable this woman certainly was not! Boredom was always a problem with him with the women in his life; he doubted any man would have time to be bored with Leonie Brandon.

  'They're all inside today, except Daffodil and Pansy, because of the rain.' Leonie took his silence to mean he wanted to hear more about the cats.

  And damn it, she had piqued his curiosity! 'Why aren't—Pansy and Daffodil in too?' What stupid names to give those haughty creatures!

  She shrugged. 'Because they like the rain.'

  A stupid question deserved an equally stupid answer. Hell, he had better things to talk about than six oddly-named cats! Or their intriguing owner, he told himself sternly. Her twin couldn't be that innocent if she had enticed a nineteen-year-old boy into her net, but the woman in front of him, with her childlike body and guileless green eyes—how had he ever thought she could be the one involved with Hal?—was decidedly no match for the passion he would demand of her. She was probably still a virgin, and they were one breed he definitely avoided.

  But an image of her kept flashing in and out of his mind, of her slender legs entwined with his, those pert little breasts crushed against his chest, the nipples nuzzling against him, her face flushed with ecstasy.

  'We were talking about Hal and your sister,' he prompted harshly, his self-contempt at his thoughts chilling his eyes.

  Leonie nodded, her bright red hair moving silkily against her cheek as she got gracefully to her feet. 'What if they leave it three more months before coming to any decision about marriage?'

  'A year,' he insisted instantly.

  'Six months appears to be the middle line.' She gave him one of those guileless smiles, her eyes wide and innocent.

  He had been out-classed, out-manoeuvred, at a game at which he had always been considered an expert. And all because of a pair of wide green eyes—and a taut little bottom beneath tight denims, he acknowledged self-derisively. You are getting senile, Sinclair, he berated himself, when the mere movement of a woman's body against her clothes can distract you from your purpose!

  He straightened. 'I told you, I don't want a gold-digger in my family,' he snapped insultingly. 'Six years wouldn't be long enough for me to accept that!'

  'You may have to,' she told him heavily. 'Laura might be willing to accept any terms you care to make, but Hal has definite plans of his own, and he's the one you'll have to convince that you're only doing this for his own good.'

  She was right, this little witchchild. Hal was his son all right, and there was no way he would have stood by and meekly accepted his father's interference in his life in this way, at any age. But he wasn't about to let Leonie Brandon know that he realised they might all have to compromise, him most of all!

  'I'll deal with my son, Miss Brandon,' he said confidently. 'And when the time comes I'll deal with your sister too!' He turned to leave.

  Leonie followed him out of the room. Even if she had made no sound as she walked, her perfume, the elusiveness of a spring flower, told of her presence; Hawk had never been so aware of a woman's perfume. He turned to face her all the more sharply because of that as she spoke quietly at his side.

  'I'm afraid I still haven't introduced myself to you properly,' she shrugged as his eyes narrowed. 'My name isn't Brandon, it's Spencer.'

  She was married! This witchchild was married? He glanced at her left hand, noticing for the first time the thin gold band on her finger that he had missed when he looked at her earlier. And he knew the reason he had missed it—he had been too intent on the beauty of the delicate hands, had imagined them caressing his body—Damn it, this couldn't go on! He could have his pick of women, he certainly didn't need to get mixed up with this strange, married one!

  'It's what you are that matters to me,' he ground out. 'And as far as I'm concerned you're just the sister of the woman trying to trick my son into marrying her!'

  Leonie stood shaking her head as she watched him leave. Laura and Hal were in love, genuinely in love, and the objection of Hal's father to that love could cause a rift between them all that might never heal.

  She had to admit that she had been dismayed herself when Laura returned home, from speaking at one of the literary meetings Leonie took such pains to avoid, to drop into an armchair and dreamily sigh that she was in love. Laura had always been the level-headed one, the sensible one, and an announcement like that had to be taken seriously.

  'But he's too young for me,' Laura wailed regretfully. 'A boy disguised as a man!'

  A boy? Dear God, what did that mean? 'Tell me about him,' Leonie prompted softly.

  'He's so tall and—and handsome.' Laura blushed. She was her sister's mirror image, except that her eyes were occasionally filled with an unspoken sadness. 'He was the manager of the hotel where we held the meeting, and—'

  'Then he can't be that young,' Leonie said with some relief.
/>   Laura's eyes rolled expressively. 'His family owns the hotel!'

  Leonie became suddenly still. 'He's one of the Sinclairs?' Everyone had heard of the multimillionaire family!

  'Son of the Sinclair,' her sister nodded, her dismay reflected in sea-green eyes. 'Oh, Leonie, he's young, so much younger than I am, but when he looked at me I knew I loved him. And he said he felt exactly the same way!'

  'You talked to him, then—Of course you talked to him,' Leonie chastised herself for her stupidity. 'Otherwise how would you know his name?'

  'He said he's coming to see me tomorrow night,' Laura groaned. 'That we should start discussing our wedding plans!'

  'He said that?' Leonie gasped at the speed with which the relationship had progressed. When Laura had left this evening she had been heart-free, yet a few hours later she was obviously deeply in love.

  'Yes.' Her sister blushed again. 'Oh, Leonie, he asked me to marry him!'

  And he had continued to ask every day since that evening three and a half weeks ago!

  Leonie had liked Hal instantly; she had found him not to be the boy Laura had led her to believe, that he had been a man for some time, possessed of a confidence that had been inborn in him. And he was obviously deeply serious about his feelings concerning Laura, spending every moment that he could with her.

  Hawk Sinclair wasn't going to find it at all easy to 'deal with' his son!

  Hawk's temper hadn't cooled in the least by the time he returned to the penthouse suite of the hotel.

  Jake Colter, his assistant and friend for the last fifteen years, looked up from the contracts he had been working on, his blond brows rising over laughing blue eyes as Hawk let out a bellow for Sarah, his private secretary. 'How did the meeting with the mercenary author go?' he drawled.

  Hawk's scowl deepened. 'It didn't! Sarah, where the hell are you?' he bellowed again.

  The elegantly calm woman who had organised his business life for more years than he cared to think about emerged from her bedroom that adjoined the lounge, not at all perturbed by the chaos Hawk seemed to have brought back with him. After ten years she was probably used to it!