Hawk's Prey Page 5

  ‘Sean—’

  ‘I wish you had told me, Sean.’ Whitney feigned dismay, ignoring Hawk’s narrow-eyed look at her interruption. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to propose for years, and now it’s too late.’

  ‘Ah, and there’s the way of it then.’ He shook his head morosely, falling in with her game, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. ‘Still, if it couldn’t be me you couldn’t have chosen a better man than Hawk.’

  ‘I’m glad you approve.’ She smiled at him warmly, Hawk scowling now.

  ‘And what’s wrong with you, me lad?’ Sean gave him a piercing look. ‘Dazed by your good fortune, I bet,’ he said knowingly.

  ‘Something like that,’ Hawk drawled.

  Sean nodded, as if pleased with the answer. ‘If you ever get tired of him, Whitney love, remember there’s always Sean O’Gilligen. I’d be good to you.’

  ‘I’ll bet,’ Hawk muttered as the other man went back down to his galley. ‘You shouldn’t have encouraged him, Whitney.’ He frowned at her.

  She shrugged, spreading pâté on her toast. ‘I’ve always joked about with Sean like that, it doesn’t mean a thing.’

  ‘I meant about us,’ Hawk grated. ‘The less people who believe that the better.’

  All the enjoyment suddenly went out of the evening. ‘Because of Geraldine.’

  ‘Because I was your guardian for six years, damn it!’ He glared.

  ‘And now I’m twenty-two and all grown up!’ She glared back at him.

  ‘Not that grown up!’ he rasped.

  They ate their pâté in stony silence, Whitney unable to believe how Hawk could be so bloody-minded about what was, after all, just a bit of fun. He knew as well as she did that the rumour about the two of them would go no further than the Freedom; the men that worked for him on board were fiercely loyal, even without the financial inducement.

  Only Geraldine had been immune to the loyalty Hawk evoked, spending his money, using his power, but giving him very little in return; the two of them hadn’t even shared a bedroom the last three years of their marriage. Hawk had acted as if the enforced celibacy didn’t bother him, but it must have been a terrible blow, considering his continuing fidelity, when Geraldine had told him she wanted a divorce so that she could marry the man who had been her lover for several months.

  ‘Sad thoughts?’

  She looked up from her beef Wellington to find Hawk watching her frowningly. ‘I can’t remember,’ she avoided awkwardly.

  ‘Strange,’ Hawk drawled disbelievingly. ‘I can never remember your having a lapse of memory like that before.’

  She blushed at the taunt. ‘Then it should tell you that my thoughts were private,’ she snapped, wincing as she realised just how awful that had sounded. But how could she tell him she had been wishing she could have eased his celibacy all those years! ‘I’m sorry,’ she told him regretfully.

  He nodded abruptly. ‘We’ve grown so apart this last year,’ he realised ruefully. ‘Do you realise that today when I picked up your things was the first time I’ve actually seen your home?’

  ‘You’ve been invited—I’m sorry.’ Once again she regretted her caustic tone—he had received enough of that from Geraldine over the years! ‘You’re a busy man—’

  ‘Never too busy for you, Whitney.’ He placed his hand on hers on the table top. ‘I’m always here if you should need me.’

  She always needed him. This last year without him had seemed never-ending, the few invitations she had initially made to him to visit her so gently rebuffed at first that she hadn’t realised what was happening. And then his refusals hadn’t even been politely made any more, and finally she had stopped asking, realising that the part of his life that had contained her had been irrevocably closed.

  ‘What did you think of my home?’ she asked lightly, not encouraging another rejection.

  His mouth quirked. ‘An interesting concept,’ he remarked slowly.

  Whitney laughed at his tactful answer. ‘You didn’t like it!’

  ‘Having the bedrooms downstairs and the living area upstairs threw me a bit,’ he acknowledged drily. ‘But I soon found my way around.’

  She had taken one look at the old house, fallen in love with it and its location, and decided that it was designed completely wrong inside. A few minor changes and it was perfect.

  ‘Is it a new fashion?’ Hawk still seemed a little dazed by her upside-down idea of living.

  ‘I don’t think so.’ She shook her head. ‘I just prefer it that way. After all, what’s the use of having those lovely views from the top of the house if you only go up there to sleep?’

  ‘There is that,’ he drawled.

  ‘You’re laughing at my logic,’ she said without rancour.

  ‘Maybe a little,’ he conceded lightly. ‘I’ve just never thought of it like that before.’

  ‘But can’t you see—’

  ‘I can,’ he said dazedly, a little bewildered by his own sense of understanding the upside-down design of her home. ‘It might be different if you had a garden, but as you don’t I can see that it would be more comfortable the way that it is.’

  She nodded. ‘It’s also more private. I don’t need to draw the curtains at all in the lounge because no one can see in at me.’

  ‘As I said, it’s an interesting concept,’ Hawk drawled drily.

  ‘But not something you would want at Hawkworth House,’ she realised mockingly.

  ‘Well I do have a garden,’ he reasoned. ‘And Rusty might get a little confused if I started messing around with his living arrangements.’

  She smiled at the mention of Hawk’s red setter. ‘How is he?’

  ‘Getting old, like the rest of us,’ he sighed.

  Whitney frowned. ‘He isn’t ill, is he?’

  Hawk shook his head. ‘Just more temperamental than ever. I don’t think fatherhood agrees with him,’ he added derisively.

  Her eyes widened. ‘Rusty is a father?’ She had thought he was getting too old for that.

  Hawk laughed softly at her stunned expression. ‘He got to Mrs Russell’s Honey before the male golden labrador she had picked out for her baby! She wasn’t in the least amused when she saw the pups!’

  Remembering Hawk’s snobbish next door neighbour at Hawkworth House, and the almost fanatical way the other woman had protected her dog, Honey, she guessed that was probably a slight understatement. ‘I bet they were adorable.’ She smiled at the imagined pups.

  ‘Mrs Russell didn’t think so, but she managed to find homes for them all. Rusty isn’t too thrilled by the presence of his son and heir!’

  ‘You bought one,’ Whitney realised excitedly.

  ‘Oh no, Mrs Russell gave me the choice of the litter,’ he said, tongue-in-cheek. ‘She also told me I had better have one or she would send Honey over to dig up the prize roses!’

  The conversation flowed more easily between them after this nonsense, so that by the time Whitney said good night she felt as if she and Hawk had reached at least some sort of closeness again. The paternal kiss he gave her on her forehead before they parted told her it wasn’t the sort of closeness she would have liked!

  But it was more than she had had from him the last year, the knowledge that he was only feet away from her in his own suite down the corridor making it impossible for her to sleep.

  After lying awake for some time not even feeling sleepy she decided to go back up to the library to get a book to read, Tom Beresford and her story on him far from her mind as she thought of the days ahead with Hawk. It was going to be so good being with him again, although Hawk couldn’t guess that she was going to use this probable last chance with him to try and make him see her as a woman. If she failed when completely alone with him, then she might as well give up!

  ‘…we shouldn’t be disturbed in here.’

  Whitney froze as she heard Hawk enter the adjoining lounge—and he obviously wasn’t alone. What was he doing wandering about the yacht at one o’clock in the morning? And
who could possibly be calling on him at this time of night that he didn’t want to be disturbed with? The realisation that it was probably a woman, possibly even Geraldine Beresford, kept her seated in the chair.

  ‘No one saw you come on board?’ His question was accompanied by the chinking of glasses as he poured himself and his guest a drink.

  ‘No one,’ his visitor confirmed. ‘I’m not some rank amateur!’

  It was a man’s voice! And it sounded vaguely familiar. Whitney strained to hear their hushed voices now.

  ‘I had to leave a couple of men on deck,’ Hawk sighed. ‘You know Whitney is on board? I had no choice,’ he protested as the other man gave a disapproving snort. ‘She was getting too inquisitive.’

  ‘He certainly didn’t like seeing her at lunch today,’ the other man acknowledged grimly.

  My God, Whitney realised, this man was involved with Tom Beresford. And Hawk?

  ‘I’m not going to let him or anyone else hurt her,’ Hawk grated. ‘She’s just a child who doesn’t realise what she’s become involved in.’

  ‘I don’t think he quite sees it the same way,’ the other man drawled. ‘And he’s going to be very wary when he finds out she’s staying here with you.’

  ‘Whitney was my ward, she works for me,’ Hawk scorned dismissively.

  ‘It’s the last part that seems to be bothering him. It’s making him unsure of you. And we can’t have that, not after all the work we’ve done.’

  ‘Now look, Glyn—’

  Glyn? Glyn Briant, one of Tom Beresford’s ‘minders’? Whitney felt sick and bewildered. It couldn’t be because Hawk was involved with Tom Beresford that he wanted her story stopped; she couldn’t believe that! And yet what else could all this mean?

  ‘Does she have the file and photographs with her?’ the man called Glyn asked impatiently.

  Hawk sighed. ‘She says not, but I searched her home earlier and I know they aren’t there. By the time I realised they were probably in her bag all the time it was too late to prevent her taking it back. Unfortunately, I am an amateur!’

  ‘That’s all he’s really interested in from her,’ the other man said grimly. ‘But until he gets them your ward is a hindrance he doesn’t need. Needless to say I’d like to take a look at them, too,’ he added interestedly.

  ‘When I agreed to come in on this I specified that Whitney was never to be involved—’

  ‘Hawk, she involved herself,’ the other man rasped. ‘She was warned off, but she just kept coming. And you know that there are too many other people who could get hurt for us to back off now. If you can give him what he wants, maybe he’ll forget all about Whitney Morgan.’

  ‘OK,’ Hawk sighed, ‘I’ll get the file and photographs for you.’

  ‘And what are you going to do with Miss Morgan in the meantime?’

  ‘Take her to the Med for a few days and hope he forgets her, as you said,’ Hawk grated grimly.

  ‘A few days, even a few weeks, wouldn’t be enough time for that,’ the other man muttered. ‘She’s been making herself too visible lately.’

  ‘Then just what do you suggest I do?’ Hawk rasped, obviously not expecting the other man to have a solution either, swearing softly under his breath as the other man seemed to take his time thinking about it.

  ‘Maybe if we could show him that Whitney is harmless,’ Glyn finally said slowly.

  ‘And how do you propose to do that?’ Hawk demanded impatiently. ‘I had her editor order her off the story six months ago, and yet she went right on with it.’

  ‘And now he’s as jumpy as a kitten!’

  Tom Beresford, jumpy? If he had been at lunchtime, he had hidden it well!

  ‘We’ve come too far, risked too much, to screw up this deal now,’ Hawk bit out.

  ‘We aren’t going to screw it up,’ the other man told him with cool confidence.

  ‘We are if I lose the little trust I’ve gained with him. He’s already so damned wary.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you be, especially with this latest development?’

  ‘Whitney is my responsibility, I’ll handle her,’ Hawk announced arrogantly.

  ‘Will you?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘She doesn’t come over as a young lady that likes to be “handled”,’ Glyn Briant mocked.

  ‘She’ll do as I tell her,’ Hawk told him fiercely.

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ the other man murmured. ‘I haven’t come this far to lose out because a little girl got too nosey!’

  ‘You won’t,’ Hawk assured him grimly.

  ‘Cancel this trip to the Med for a while, will you,’ the other man instructed. ‘I don’t think it would look too good if the two of you sailed off into the sunset right now!’

  ‘There’s nothing like that between Whitney and I,’ Hawk grated harshly.

  ‘Do you think Geraldine is going to believe that?’ the other man scorned.

  ‘Who the hell ever knows what Geraldine thinks?’ Hawk dismissed impatiently.

  ‘And how can she really object, in the circumstances?’ the other man taunted.

  ‘I don’t like Whitney being involved, Glyn,’ Hawk bit out abruptly.

  ‘We don’t have a choice,’ the other man told him arrogantly. ‘She’s got herself caught in the middle, and she’ll have to take her chances like the rest of us.’

  ‘If she becomes suspicious—’

  ‘Then you’ll have to handle her,’ Glyn told him icily. ‘No one else has to know we’re involved in this deal. And we have to get it moving soon. Lives depend on it.’

  ‘Whitney—’

  ‘Nothing will happen to your little ward as long as you can convince him she’s under your control. And in the meantime, get those photographs and the file; at least they give us something to barter with!’ he assured Hawk impatiently.

  Whitney couldn’t hear any more of the conversation as the two men continued to talk in hushed voices as they left the lounge, Glyn Briant obviously leaving. Lives depended on Hawk making some deal with Tom Beresford? Hawk’s life?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  WHITNEY felt as if she sat across the table from a stranger at breakfast the next morning. The Hawk who could become involved with the shady dealings of a man like Tom Beresford wasn’t the same man who had taken her into his home seven years ago and shown her a kindness that had made her love him. But then that Hawk wasn’t the same man who had dismissed her from his life a year ago either, his duty over, his affection removed.

  When had he changed so dramatically? Why had he changed? She had always assumed, with the considerable business holdings the Hawkworth family had when Hawk took over the running of them seven years ago, that he must have continued their success. He always gave the impression that he had. But she had gone over and over in her mind what the reason could be for Hawk dealing with a man like Tom Beresford and the only conclusion she could come up with, that sounded at all feasible, was money. And she felt responsible if that were true. Hawk had given up the career he loved and was successful at, to become the respectable businessman worthy of her guardianship, and if he had failed at the task and lost all the Hawkworth money then it was her fault. He had probably lost Geraldine for the same reason, the other woman not the type to have patience with failure, especially if it meant there was no longer as much money available for her to spend.

  Although none of this really justified Hawk’s involvement with Tom Beresford. And the other man, from the conversation she had heard between Hawk and Glyn Briant the night before, obviously wasn’t completely convinced either, hence Hawk’s urgent need to prove himself.

  When had Hawk changed from that reservedly affectionate man she had always loved to become as corrupt as Tom Beresford, a man she despised?

  ‘You’re very quiet this morning?’

  She looked up with a guilty start, avoiding Hawk’s direct gaze, too disillusioned by what she had heard to look at him and not show the emotion. ‘I didn’t sleep all that well,’ she told him t
ruthfully, sleep eluding her completely after what she had overhead.

  He nodded understandingly. ‘It’s always a little strange the first night on board, even when you aren’t moving!’

  Last night hadn’t been strange, it had been devastating! Tears misted her vision.

  ‘You’ll be pleased to know,’ Hawk continued casually, ‘that I’ve decided to stay on in London for a few more days.’

  She swallowed hard. ‘That means we aren’t going to have our trip around the Med?’

  ‘You weren’t that keen on going anyway,’ he chided lightly.

  She was now, though! Hawk hadn’t actually become actively involved with Tom Beresford’s corruptive methods yet, and if she could get him away on her own and try to persuade him he would be making a mistake if he was tempted by that easy money then she would gladly give up the story on Tom Beresford. Anything, to stop Hawk’s involvement.

  ‘It would be fun, Hawk.’ She looked up at him beseechingly, her hand on his arm.

  He avoided her gaze this time. ‘Something has come up,’ he told her abruptly. ‘I have to stay on here for a while. In fact, I’m going into town now so why don’t you go back to bed for a while; you look washed out. I’ll leave instructions for you not to be disturbed.’

  How could she be anything else but disturbed when Hawk was contemplating personal suicide!

  ‘I’ll pick up the file and photographs on Tom Beresford from your house for you if you like,’ he added casually.

  All the breath seemed to be knocked from her body at the suggestion. She couldn’t give him the file now even if she wanted to, not when she knew he was going to use it to barter to his destruction. ‘I—er—I think it’s in my desk,’ she lied, moving her feet slightly to touch her bag reassuringly as it lay next to her chair, the file and photographs nestled inside seeming to burn at the touch.