Hawk's Prey Page 7

  ‘I can.’ She slipped his shirt off his shoulders.

  She had seen him dressed in only a pair of bathing trunks hundreds of times, and yet there was something so much more primitively fascinating about seeing his bare chest bathed by moonlight, his trousers fitted low on his waist. The hair on his chest gleamed golden, and her fingers ached to know him.

  ‘This is wrong, Whitney,’ Hawk groaned as she placed featherlight kisses across his chest. ‘Whitney, I can’t stand it when you do that!’ he groaned achingly as her tongue caressed the hard brown nubs on his chest. ‘If you don’t stop now…!’

  She had no intention of stopping. The cloak of darkness had given her the courage to do all the things to him she had always longed to do, her hands caressing him as her lips slowly moved down his body. He made no further effort to resist her but neither did he encourage her, seeming lost to the explosive demands of his body.

  Passivity could be as encouraging as a passionate response to a woman who had loved for as long as Whitney had, she felt, taking her fill of him as they lay down together on the sofa behind them.

  They kissed heatedly, deeply, Hawk the master now as he lay half across her, impatiently pushing aside the robe to pull open the buttons of her nightshirt. So much for her not to show herself on deck; she was almost naked!

  Her breasts fitted perfectly into the cup of his hands, as if both had been made for just such a purpose, and all the breath fled her body as he tugged the aching nipple into the moist warmth of his mouth.

  Hawk, her arrogant Hawk, shuddered against her with need as her hand moved to caress his thigh, a groan of satisfaction escaping his lips as she claimed him.

  He had a magnificent body, strong and yet gentle, and she wanted all of him, all he had to give.

  Her mouth clung to his as she released her arms from the robe and nightshirt, the two laying discarded beneath her as she wrapped her naked body about Hawk’s. A spasm shot through his body as her heated flesh moulded with his, her nipples aching nubs that soon knew the pleasurable release of his lips and hands, their bodies moist with perspiration as they clung together amid the maelstrom.

  Whitney had dreamed of this moment all of her adult life, meeting all of the passionate demand she had known Hawk was capable of with her own need, rapidly reaching the point where she needed him inside her, wanting to reach that fiery haven with him.

  She was on fire, so deliciously moist, welcoming his lips and hands wherever they touched, her thighs closing about him as he slowly caressed her, her head falling back against his arm as the warmth threatened to burst and engulf her.

  Hawk tasted of brandy as his mouth parted hers once again, but the two of them were intoxicated with something so much more heady than mere alcohol, Hawk’s thighs moving against her in rhythmic need now, the caress of his hand matching that rhythm.

  ‘Hawk!’ she cried out as she knew she was about to reach that haven without him, determined not to.

  ‘You’re going to hate me afterwards,’ he groaned, his tongue outlining her lips.

  ‘As long as you know it’s me I don’t care,’ she assured him, knowing by the way he become so suddenly still that it had been completely the wrong thing to say. She could have cried with her disappointment as Hawk looked down at her with dazed eyes, seeming to see her for the first time.

  She had said she didn’t mind if he used her, but she hadn’t realised she would only be a substitute for the wife that had left him and that he still loved!

  The robe was cool against her still-heated flesh as she struggled into it, bundling her nightshirt up in her hand as she watched Hawk cross the deck. He stood with his back towards her, his shoulders hunched over, his breathing ragged.

  ‘We’ll be having guests on board tomorrow,’ he announced suddenly.

  Her eyes widened; this certainly hadn’t been what she had been expecting him to say!

  He turned abruptly, the golden eyes tormented. ‘Geraldine and her husband will be here for dinner.’

  Now she realised why he had been drinking.

  God! Could his visitor tonight have been Geraldine herself? Had the other woman left him aching and unassuaged?

  With a cry of pain she turned and fled to the lower deck.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  HAWK wasn’t on board the Freedom when Whitney finally left her suite the next morning, Stephen Hollister informing her that his employer had left hours ago to go to his office in town.

  Maybe she had deserved the pain and humiliation Hawk had dealt her last night—after all he had told her he would only be using her—but he hadn’t needed to be quite as cruel as he had been. A simple, ‘I’m still in love with my ex-wife’, would have done it; he hadn’t needed to show her quite so eloquently that it had been Geraldine he had been thinking of as he made love to her.

  Whitney couldn’t help wondering if the other woman had been the driver of the car she had seen leaving. If Hawk were having an affair with the other woman while trying to do business with her second husband, Whitney couldn’t help thinking he was in serious trouble, worse than she had even guessed. Tom Beresford would never sit back and accept Hawk having an affair with Geraldine.

  Maybe she was being a little premature. Hawk had frankly admitted it had been some time since he made love to a woman, any woman, and his instantaneous response had been evidence of that.

  But last night he had shown her that if he couldn’t have Geraldine, or a woman he could pretend was Geraldine, then he didn’t want a woman at all. And Whitney knew she couldn’t stay on Freedom and see him again knowing that.

  Getting off via the gangway proved to be impossible, several of the crew always working or talking there. And Whitney didn’t think that was accidental either; Hawk was taking no chances on her getting away!

  The only alternative seemed to be to go over the side with it’s drop into the water. If she climbed over and then slowly lowered herself there shouldn’t be too much of a splash to alert the crew to her movements when she let go.

  The opportunity came after lunch, with several of the crew downstairs having their own meal, and the others relaxed as they chatted together near the gangway. Whitney seized her chance.

  She had never realised how high the sides of the yacht were before!

  It was almost her length again to the murky water, and she knew that far from gliding into the water as she had hoped to do she was going to make quite a splash! Tears flowed unheeded down her cheeks as she realised the ridiculous situation she had got herself into now; she neither had the strength to climb back up nor the nerve to let go.

  She was beginning to think her arms were going to be wrenched out of their sockets when someone swore directly above her. She looked up guiltily to see Hawk glaring down at her.

  He didn’t say a word as he clasped hold of her wrists and began to pull her back up on to the deck, but the grimness of his expression was speech enough; he was furiously angry.

  Whitney used her feet to help herself up, soon standing next to him on the deck, her shoulders aching unbearably where they had taken the strain of her full weight the last half an hour.

  ‘You little idiot!’ Hawk rasped between gritted teeth as she rubbed the painful joints.

  She shot him a scathing look. ‘I already realise that, thank you,’ she told him haughtily.

  ‘Just what were you hoping to achieve?’ he demanded to know.

  ‘Freedom!’ She glared at him.

  ‘You don’t even swim all that well; you could have drowned! I thought I was seeing things when I went down to my suite to change and saw you dangling outside the window!’ He still looked a little shaken.

  She had even been stupid enough to choose Hawk’s suite window to climb past! Although she knew she couldn’t have held on much longer, and then there would have been even more of a fuss, with the crew knowing of her stupidity, too.

  ‘How long had you been there?’ Hawk frowned, taking over the task of massaging her sore shoulders, his movement
s unconsciously arousing.

  ‘Too long,’ she groaned.

  ‘Why, Whitney?’ He was suddenly still. ‘If it’s about last night—’

  ‘Last night is only part of it,’ she cut in sharply. ‘I don’t like what you’re doing, Hawk.’

  ‘Am I hurting you?’ His hands rested lightly on her shoulders as he frowned his concern.

  ‘I don’t mean this.’ She shrugged away from his touch. ‘Why are you involved with Geraldine and Tom Beresford?’

  He avoided her gaze, his expression shuttered. ‘That’s none of your business,’ he rasped.

  ‘You’re destroying yourself—’

  ‘I’m doing what I have to do,’ he bit out coldly.

  She shook her head. ‘Well I don’t have to be a party to it.’

  ‘You’re already too deeply involved to get out now without getting hurt,’ he told her grimly.

  Did he know she was in love with him? She avidly searched the harsh remoteness of his face, realising he was talking about her knowledge of Tom Beresford and not what had happened between the two of them last night.

  ‘Can’t you see that this isn’t the way to get Geraldine back?’ she groaned.

  He stiffened. ‘Why should I let her go if I want her back?’

  ‘It wasn’t your decision!’

  ‘Whitney—’ He stopped, his mouth compressed angrily. ‘Give me the file and photographs you have on Tom Beresford and maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to keep you out of it.’

  She frowned. ‘You know I have them?’

  He nodded abruptly. ‘They’re probably wrapped up inside that plastic bag with your handbag.’ He looked pointedly at the bundle she held on to so tightly. ‘Right this very minute,’ he added grimly.

  She blushed her guilt. ‘If you knew that all the time,’—and she knew that he had—‘why didn’t you just take them?’

  He shrugged. ‘I wanted you to give them to me without coercion.’

  ‘But there’s nothing in there for him to worry about,’ she protested. ‘Only supposition and conjecture. Tom Beresford is too clever to incriminate himself,’ she added disgustedly.

  ‘Let me see.’ Hawk put out his hand for them.

  She fought a battle within herself, all the time knowing that if she didn’t give them to Hawk he could just take them by force, that the time for being patient was long past. And although she had done her research well, had enough to confirm her own suspicions, she really couldn’t think why Tom Beresford wanted them so desperately; she had gone through both the file and photographs again closely that morning and found nothing to really worry Tom Beresford. Except the fact that she was interested enough to have taken the photographs and collected the information. To a man in Tom Beresford’s position that could be enough to make him nervous.

  With a sigh she took the file and the envelope containing the photographs out of her polythene-wrapped bag and gave them to Hawk, frowning as he moved to the low coffee-table to tip the contents out on to the surface.

  Hundreds of instant snapshots fell out of the envelope, Tom Beresford on his own, meeting people, with Geraldine, Geraldine on her own, Geraldine meeting people. The last had just been a morbid curiosity about the woman Hawk loved.

  Hawk looked up at her ruefully. ‘If nothing else, Tom should be able to have you charged with invasion of privacy,’ he drawled mockingly, beginning to sort through the numerous photographs.

  ‘He would have too many explanations to make if he did that,’ she said disgustedly.

  He shrugged. ‘You aren’t a bad photographer.’ He spoke absently, lingering over some of the photographs and quickly flicking through others.

  Whitney watched him curiously. ‘What are you looking for?’

  His expression instantly became guarded. ‘You don’t have too much concrete evidence on Tom Beresford,’ he challenged, instead of answering her. ‘You told Martin you were close to accusing him.’

  Her cheeks became flushed with anger. ‘I’ve got enough to have him worried.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Hawk acknowledged non-committally, collecting all the information together. ‘I thought you would have a lot more than this after six months.’

  ‘You’re going to just hand all that over to him?’ she realised wearily.

  ‘They needn’t concern you any more,’ he told her harshly.

  ‘And you,’ she groaned. ‘Aren’t I to be concerned about you, either?’

  He shrugged. ‘You were trying to leave just now, and now that you’ve given me the information I needed I’ll see what I can do about having you taken off Freedom.’

  ‘Ask his permission, you mean,’ she scorned. ‘Hawk—’

  ‘Whitney!’ he grated, standing up, his superior height forbidding. ‘For God’s sake just stay out of it now. Later—Well, maybe later we can talk.’

  ‘When?’ she groaned heavily. ‘When you’ve become as corrupt as he is?’

  His head went back coldly. ‘I think you should go and have a soak in the bath; your shoulders will begin to stiffen up otherwise.’

  It was a dismissal, and one she was loath to obey. ‘Why should you want to be associated with Tom Beresford when he’s married to Geraldine?’ she persisted. ‘You should hate the man.’

  ‘Or pity him!’ Hawk rasped.

  She shook her head in bewilderment. ‘I don’t understand you.’

  ‘You don’t need to,’ he bit out. ‘In fact, it’s better if you don’t. I was responsible for keeping you safe for six years of your life, and I don’t want anything to happen to you now.’

  ‘As you said before, I’m already involved,’ she derided. ‘And no matter what you would like to think about last night you responded to me,’ she challenged, needing that reassurance at least if she were to remain here with him. Trying to get off Freedom had been a mistake, she realised that now; she could be no help to Hawk if she didn’t stay with him.

  He drew in a shuddering breath. ‘I know exactly what happened last night, but do you?’

  She couldn’t meet his gaze. ‘I know you’re worth so much more than Geraldine Beresford!’

  ‘Don’t attempt anything tonight, Whitney,’ he urged coldly. ‘You could ruin everything.’

  ‘I wish I could!’

  ‘Don’t, Whitney.’ He grasped her arms and shook her slightly. ‘There’s too much at stake for this.’

  Tears flooded her eyes. ‘If it’s money—’

  ‘It isn’t,’ he refuted grimly.

  She drew in a ragged breath as he took away the excuse she had been using for his behaviour. ‘Then why?’ she groaned.

  He shook his head, releasing her abruptly, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets. ‘Go and take your bath. And for God’s sake behave yourself tonight.’

  ‘And if I don’t?’

  Hawk sighed. ‘Then we could both have reason to regret it!’

  Maybe it was because in the past Hawk had always seemed so strong and confident to her that she found his weakness now so upsetting. Whatever it was she felt thoroughly dejected as she got ready for what promised to be a tension-filled evening, at best—at worst, a disaster!

  But if Geraldine thought she could treat her with that cool condescension she had usually shown her in the past she was going to be disappointed; Whitney was no longer that slightly insecure teenager who flinched at every cutting barb; she was a woman now, and she wasn’t afraid to show that she wanted Hawk for herself.

  Whitney doubted Hawk had taken note of the lack of actual material to the shimmering purple and black gown when he had thrown it into her case yesterday, and if he had he probably wouldn’t have realised how the material clung to and enhanced the curves of her body, narrow straps over her shoulders that widened only slightly over her breasts, so that a considerable amount of their creamy softness was still visible at the sides, her nipples firmly erect against the gossamer material. To emphasise the lack of material at the top of the dress she had swept her hair loosely on top of her head, the back
of the dress dipping almost to the base of her spine.

  She felt beautifully confident in the dress, her head held high as she left her cabin to join Hawk in the lounge, faltering only slightly as she saw Glyn Briant was already there.

  She moved forward determinedly as the two men broke off their conversation as soon as she entered the room, her gaze fixed challengingly on Glyn Briant as she crossed the carpeted floor to join them. He was a man of about Hawk’s age, with short brown hair, and brown eyes that were coolly assessing at the moment. He was good-looking in a pleasant sort of way, seeming to become visibly less obtrusive as he sensed her hostility towards him.

  ‘Miss Morgan,’ he greeted smoothly, putting out his hand.

  ‘Mr Briant.’ She ignored his hand, bristling even more when he smilingly let it fall back to his side. ‘All alone this evening?’ she taunted.

  He gave an inclination of his head. ‘My employer and his wife will be here soon.’

  ‘You were given the job of coming on ahead to “check us out”,’ she derided.

  ‘Whitney—’

  ‘Could you be dangerous, Miss Morgan?’ Glyn Briant watched her with narrowed eyes.

  She flicked a glance at Hawk, whatever reaction he had first shown to the seductive style of her gown erased by the tension about his mouth and eyes. He didn’t seem at all in awe of the other man, just displeased with the way she was baiting him. ‘Perhaps Hawk could better answer that?’ she challenged softly.

  ‘I gave up trying to second-guess you years ago, Whitney,’ he said wearily. ‘You’ll go right ahead and do what you want, regardless.’

  Regardless of what? If there really were a danger to Hawk because of her reckless behaviour then she would stop it right now, couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him, no matter what he was involved in.

  She put her arm through the crook of his, smiling at Glyn Briant, although the warmth didn’t erase the pain from her eyes. ‘Hawk exaggerates,’ she dismissed. ‘He’s always been able to make me do exactly what he wants.’

  A speculative gleam entered the narrowed brown eyes. ‘Really?’

  ‘No,’ Hawk rasped harshly.