On Wings of Magic (18 page)

Without waiting for a response, she dipped her head again, her lips searching for and finding the flat masculine nipples. She heard him groan softly and the sound spurred her on, a dizzying sense of power mounting to her head.

More than once in her life Kendall had been called upon to defend herself physically, and she had learned to do so quite skillfully. As she’d half seriously told Hawke, she knew several methods of causing pain, nasty little tricks picked up from several somewhat questionable acquaintances. But that ability to defeat someone twice her size had never given Kendall a feeling of power. That had been survival, pure and simple. But this…

This feeling of power, of having Hawke at her mercy, was strange and exciting. A brief illusion to be cherished for its brevity.

Glorying in the feeling, she caressed his nipples, using her tongue and teeth, and aware of an avid hunger she’d never known before. Her fingers tugged at the fine black hair on his chest, and then she moved lower, her mouth following the trail of hair arrowing down his flat stomach. She felt a heady need to explore every inch of his body, to know it as well as he knew hers.

Instinct guided her, curiosity fueled her desire. She had never known that a man’s body could be so beautiful, and she went a little crazy in her attempt to imprint each strong characteristic on her mind and heart.

Her fingers trailed over his stomach and beyond, something inside of her dimly astonished at the soft, satiny feel of his skin. Gently now, she touched him, only half aware when he drew in his breath sharply,
harshly. Just as she had concentrated before on what he had been doing to her, she concentrated now on what she was doing.

She bent her head suddenly, tasting his strength. She heard a groan rumble from deep in his chest, and that evidence of his pleasure increased her own. Knowledge came from somewhere, from deep in herself or from the desire to please him. She was completely uninhibited, no reluctance marring this experience for either of them.

The feeling of power remained, urging her on. She was in control, and that was a fascinating experience. In no other way could she control so completely, and the woman in her reveled in that.

“Kendall!” he rasped heavily, and then the room swung crazily and she found herself on her back, staring up at him. The gray eyes contained a hot glitter. “Witch … beautiful witch. God, you’re driving me out of my mind!”

There was no gentleness in his kisses then, only driving need and a hunger that rose in a flaming fury to meet her own. Kendall clung to him eagerly, branding him with her mouth, her nails unconsciously digging into his back. She felt him move strongly and welcomed him, her body arching against his, beneath the weight that trapped and possessed.

Kendall felt herself rise to meet him, impatient, driven. She held him with all of her body, using muscles she’d been unaware of until then, and saw the surprise and sudden flickering excitement in his eyes. His face was hard and taut, the lamplight casting shadows and highlights, and Kendall wondered dizzily if there would ever be enough time to know his face in all its expressions.

Together, they moved in a graceful rhythm, as if each were a part of the other. Time vanished … or stood still … or had never existed. Only the two of them and this piercing, spiraling excitement existed. Like a runaway ocean wave, it swept them up and carried them along in a fierce rush.

Kendall moaned raggedly when the wave reached its peak, calling out his name mindlessly and hearing her own name torn from his throat with a shuddering groan.

And then the wave burst on the shore, leaving them spent and very nearly numb, damp bodies tangled together.

The air-conditioned room felt almost cold to her heated body, but Kendall felt too pleasantly exhausted to move. As a matter of fact, if somebody had yelled fire, she wouldn’t even have opened her eyes. Apparently, Hawke felt the same.

Stirring slightly beside her, Hawke murmured, “Do you always sleep in an icebox?”

“It’s your hotel,” she pointed out, rousing herself enough to snuggle closer to him.

“It’s your room. What’s the thermostat set on?”

“What strange things you find to talk about … and at such strange moments.” She sighed sleepily. “I don’t know what the thermostat’s set on.”

“I like my creature comforts. And it’s like the fringes of Siberia in here.” He began to run his fingers through her hair. “You’re better than a cat though.”

“I beg your pardon?”

He chuckled softly. “Well, your cat’s been sharing
my bed, you know. Almost as good as an electric blanket. But you’re better.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He raised his head suddenly, looking down toward the foot of the bed. “Hell. No wonder I’m freezing. What did you do with the covers, you brazen hussy?”

Kendall giggled, nuzzling her face into his neck. “I didn’t do anything with them. An impatient male foot kicked them away.”

“Liar.”

“I swear.”

“I don’t remember that.”

With another sleepy giggle, she told him, “I’m not surprised. You had other things on your mind. It’s really very flattering. To me, I mean.”

“Get the covers.”

“Get them yourself.”

Hawke sighed. “Didn’t you hear the voice of your lord and master?”

“Lincoln freed the slaves.”

“You’re going to let me freeze on a technicality?”

“No, you’ll freeze on a bed.”

“Cute. That’s cute.”

Kendall delicately bit the side of his neck. “It’ll teach you not to make dumb conversation with a woman you just seduced.”

“
I
seduced? Who rang the bell?”

“What bell?”

Hawke released a sighing laugh. “Are you going to get the covers?”

“No.”

“You should be whipped.”

“Feeling energetic?”

He chuckled softly and managed somehow to pull the covers up around them without dislodging Kendall. “Maybe later.”

“I can hardly wait.” She smothered a yawn against his neck, feeling herself drift and letting sleep come.

Chapter 9

When the phone began ringing early the next morning, Kendall’s first thought was a disgusted I
can never sleep late in this damn place!
Eyes firmly shut, she reached out a hand and fumbled on the night-stand for the phone. Lifting the receiver, she suddenly became aware of an unaccustomed weight across her waist.

Still holding the receiver inches from her ear, she opened one eye and stared at the male arm lying possessively over her stomach. Kendall opened the other eye and turned her head slowly, gazing at Hawke’s relaxed, sleeping face.

Absently, she brought the phone to her ear, murmuring, “Hello?” in a bemused voice.

“Kendall?” It was Rick, obviously hesitant and more than a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry for disturbing
you so early, but—uh—you wouldn’t happen to know where Hawke is, would you?”

She felt an absurd desire to giggle, and hastily choked it back. Oh, well. The hotel staff and guests already considered her a fallen woman. This only confirmed it. Sighing, she said ruefully, “Hang on a minute, Rick.”

“Sure.” There was a definite laugh in his voice.

Kendall covered the mouthpiece with her fingers and poked her companion gently with an elbow. “Hawke?
Hawke
—wake up.”

Gray eyes opened with obvious reluctance and stared at her sleepily. There was a puzzled expression at first, and then a sudden light flared deep in the smoky depths. “Good morning,” he said huskily. Apparently, he didn’t notice the phone.

“Good morning.” She smiled as he rose on an elbow to stare down at her, his arm tightening across her middle. He bent his head, kissing her gently.

Kendall lifted her free hand to touch his cheek lightly, feeling his morning beard scratch her fingers sensuously.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Dawn, I think.”

A purely male grin tugged at his lips. “Just couldn’t wait any longer, huh?”

“Right.” She prodded the middle of his chest with the phone. “But first—you have a call. Rick.”

“Oh.” He looked absurdly disappointed. “Hell. What does he want?”

“I didn’t ask,” Kendall told him politely.

Hawke sighed and took the receiver from her. “What is it, Rick? And it damn well better be important, or I’ll send you back to Florida the hard way.”
His voice wasn’t very clear, because he was pressing tiny kisses against Kendall’s fingers one at a time.

She watched him, still bemused, thinking how nice it was to wake up beside the man she loved, to see his eyes light up when he saw her. She tuned out the conversation between Hawke and his manager, just staring at his face and feeling very alive and very awake in spite of her lack of sleep.

Hawke hung up the phone finally, resting a bit more of his weight on her as he leaned over to reach the nightstand. Without bothering to prop himself back up, he stared down at her wryly. “I guess you heard.”

Kendall blinked at him. “No. I … wasn’t listening.”

He smiled crookedly. “As much as I hate it—and you’ll never know how much I hate it—I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you. There’s a domestic crisis going on in the kitchen, and Rick claims he can’t handle it.” Hawke reflected for a moment. “And if I find out that he could have handled it, I just may kill him.”

Her lips twitched. “And lose a good manager? You wouldn’t.”

“I’d rather have you than that bum any day.”

“How flattering.”

Hawke grinned. “One of these days,” he said ruefully, “you’re going to realize that I never say anything I don’t mean. You seem determined to take everything I say as a joke.”

“It’s safer that way,” she told him solemnly.

“There you go again.” He shook his head despairingly. “What do I have to do to convince you I’m serious?”

“Well, you might look a little more dignified with your clothes on.”

He lifted a quizzical brow. “But naked people have very few secrets. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“And very little dignity.”

Firmly, he told her, “The world would be much better off if we all went naked.”

“Very sunburned too.”

“Dammit, will you be serious for just a minute!”

Kendall eyed him consideringly. “You mean you really think we should all go naked? I’m not sure that’s a rational fantasy.”

“Rational fantasy is a contradiction in terms.”

“Thank you, Professor Madison.”

Hawke dropped his head suddenly, burying his face between her breasts. “Oh, God,” he groaned, “how do we get into these ridiculous conversations?”

Kendall raked her fingers through his dark hair and giggled in spite of herself. “It must be lack of sleep. Or exhaustion.” She felt giddy and happy, and didn’t want to think about anything important.

It was amazing to her that she felt so comfortable lying in bed with a man she’d known for an embarrassingly short time. She thought back suddenly to the deal they’d made the first night, and realized that Hawke had kept his end of it. He hadn’t forced her into anything. And not once had she been forced to say no to him. In fact, she’d never even wanted to.

He was sighing against her flesh. “I’ll go along with that,” he said in a muffled voice. “And I could shoot Rick for waking us up.”

“Speaking of Rick—”

“I know.” He lifted his head, gazing down at her
with restless eyes. “But I don’t want to leave you. I have this awful feeling that I dreamed last night.”

The wry statement touched Kendall oddly, and she raised her head from the pillow to kiss him lightly. “Just how important is that crisis?” she murmured invitingly.

“Very, if we want to eat.” The words were light, but his gray eyes had taken on a look she recognized from the previous night. “The cook’s threatening to quit. He’s French, and very excitable.”

“All the best ones are,” she said.

Hawke groaned and abruptly rolled away from her. “I’m getting out of here before we get into another one of those absurd conversations. God only knows where we’d end up this time!”

Kendall laughed and watched him, absently drawing the covers up over her breasts.

“Where’s my robe? I could have sworn—”

“It’s on the floor. There, by the—” She choked suddenly and began to laugh. For the very first time, she got a good look at his scar. It was on his hip, just below the tanned line indicating where he wore his bathing suit. He’d have to back up to a mirror to see it clearly himself.

A very neat, even, double row of teeth marks.

No wonder her question had embarrassed him! Kendall couldn’t stop laughing, and Hawke’s wry expression wasn’t helping any.

He pulled on his robe and tied the belt securely. “I don’t see what’s so funny,” he muttered, obviously lying.

“Hawke—” She finally managed to get control of herself. “How did you get that scar? Or is that a dumb question?”

“How
I got it is obvious.”

Kendall made an effort to straighten out her face. “Did you make somebody mad at you?” she asked innocently.

He sank down on the foot of the bed and dropped his head into his hands. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned.

“Hawke—
what happened?”