Secrets of Seduction (30 page)

Skye badly wanted to refute her aunt’s assertion. All her instincts were clamoring for her to persevere. She wanted to
fight
for Hawk’s love and win.

But Aunt Bella interjected more guidance using the voice of reason. “You know that arguing and demanding will only push Hawk away. You must let love come to you, Skye.”

“You are saying that he must make the choice himself?”

“Yes, exactly.”

No matter how sage the advice, Skye’s natural impulses continued to rebel. She had always been driven to control her own fate. She didn’t want to leave the decision to Hawk, unable to manage the outcome. But for once in her life she might be unable to get what she wanted.

“The Guardians are his life,” Isabella added in a somber tone. “Forcing him to choose between you will only cause him pain. Is that what you want for him? More pain?”

“No, of course not.”

“But that is what will happen if you continue pressing him.”

Skye’s throat grew tight. She’d been proceeding blithely these past few days, her heart filled with love and dreams. But now her dreams were about to be shattered.

“Sir Gawain wants Hawk because he is a born leader,” Aunt Bella went on. “Although some other Guardians are as brave and skilled as he is, few could fill that particular role as well as he.”

Skye swallowed the hard lump of emotion in her throat, attempting to see the decision from Hawk’s
perspective. The Guardians were his calling. They had made him the man he is today. Did she have the right to ask him to give them up?

The reminder led her to question her own motives—and a dozen thoughts crowded into her mind as a result: How selfish of her even to try to persuade him. Hawk was a hero, a man of action. He had dedicated the previous ten years of his life to righting wrongs and saving lives. He did what was right, despite his own self-interest. Could she do any less?

He was making the sacrifice to serve his country. Could she make the same sacrifice? Love meant sacrificing sometimes. And she wanted to prove worthy of his love.

The noble thing would be to let him go. If she loved him, she had to let him go.

With extreme reluctance, Skye nodded at her aunt’s unwelcome counsel. Feeling a hollow, aching need rise up within her, she wondered if she’d made a grave mistake from the very beginning. Why had she let herself fall in love with Hawk? If she had known it would hurt this much, would she still have pursued him?

But yes. Following her heart was in her very blood. Her family loved with a bone-deep fierceness, and she was no exception.

Skye blinked away the sudden sting of tears. She would have to be stoic when she faced Hawk, just as she would have to control any display of painful emotions. She often wore her heart on her sleeve, but she certainly couldn’t tell him of her love, for that would only add to his burden of guilt.

No doubt her aunt was right. She had done all she could. The rest was up to Hawk.

A quarter hour later, when she found Hawk in the corridor outside his study, he halted upon seeing her.

“May I have a moment of your time?” Skye asked quietly.

His gray eyes were wary, before his dark lashes lowered to hide any hint of emotion.

“You needn’t worry,” she hastened to add. “I haven’t come to repeat my entreaties. I only want to bid you farewell.”

“Indeed?” he said politely, distantly.

Skye felt her stomach sink further with dread. Hawk’s expression was impassive, as detached as ever, as it had been in the early days of their relationship.

He ushered her inside the study and went to stand by the window, his profile stark and stunning in the gray afternoon light. It frightened her to think that her greatest fear was coming to pass, but she forced herself to launch into her short, prepared speech.

“I won’t implore you to reconsider, Hawk. Of course I don’t want you to wed Miss Olwen, but I understand why you must put your league first. Your duty is more important than any personal contentment. You must do what you must.”

“Yes, I must.”

His concise response brought the ache back to her chest. She desperately wanted this man to love her, but her hope was futile. Hawk would never open his heart to her. He wouldn’t permit himself. There was no answering fire in his eyes, no feeling at all.

Skye willed herself not to show her despair. “I agree,
you should lead the Guardians. You save lives, Hawk. You shouldn’t be compelled to give that up.”

Even though it means I must give
you
up
.

She felt the ache cut through her heart. Her chest tight, her eyes burning, she offered him a tremulous smile and moved to stand directly before him.

She hesitated a moment memorizing his beloved face, the proud curves of cheekbones and chin and forehead, before saying simply, “If this is farewell … I want you to remember me.”

“I could never forget you, sweeting.”

He lifted his hand, touching his fingertips along the rise of her cheek. “Your name should be Sunshine.…”

His tenderness was like a nail to her heart.

Forcibly she swallowed a sob. “Before I go … will you allow me one last kiss? That is all I ask.”

Resistance was etched in the chiseled planes of his face, but Hawk complied and lowered his head so their mouths could meet.

His lips were warm but not welcoming. Determinedly, Skye slid her arms around his neck to pull him closer, and for a fleeting instant, their kiss turned hard, with a hint of the glorious passion they had always shared. She tried to press herself deeper into the hard, muscular shelter of his body … but almost as suddenly, Hawk broke off their embrace. His hands on her shoulders, he deliberately set her away.

As he drew back, Skye glimpsed something in his eyes … the hot need burning just below the surface. But then his heavy black lashes veiled his gaze.

The implacable lines of his face were like a knife twisting in her heart.

“Godspeed on your journey, Hawk,” she whispered.

Then, before her voice could break entirely, she turned and ran from the room.

Scalding tears filled her eyes, blinding her, but she didn’t stop until she reached her own bedchamber and shut herself inside. Squeezing her eyes shut, Skye stood with her back pressed against the door, tears spilling helplessly down her cheeks.

All her hopes for happiness had gone up in flames. Yet she was crying not only for herself but for the man who would go on living without love.

London was as
cold and gray as Hawk felt. Inside Sir Gawain’s overcrowded town house, however, the heat from numerous chandeliers and perfumed bodies masked the chill.

Hawk gazed out over a sea of colorful gowns and elegant coiffures, fighting a cloying sense of oppression. This was the second major event of his courtship—a dinner and ball hosted by the baronet. Sir Gawain’s great-niece and her parents had stayed at his London home for several weeks now and seemed anxious for Hawk’s appearance.

Their initial meeting had gone awkwardly, though. Miss Amelia Olwen was pretty and gentle and sweet in nature, but utterly, mind-numbingly bland.

She also looked as if she might swoon at the first hint of danger. She clearly found Hawk intimidating, and she was appalled by his scars.

Unlike Skye, who sees your scars as a badge of courage
.

For an instant, Hawk let himself dwell on his last
memory of Skye when she’d kissed him farewell at Hawkhurst. Her eyes had been luminous with sadness, and when she smiled that tremulous heartbreaking smile, he wanted to call off his entire plan.

He’d spent the three nights since arriving in London alternately suffering a restless, dream-tossed sleep or lying awake with a hole in his gut. Not because of the ghosts of his dead family—those he had managed to conquer with Skye’s help—but from haunting regrets at being forced to leave her.

His heart sat in his chest like stone at the thought of cutting her out of his life, never touching, never laughing with her, never seeing her radiant smile.…

Hawk muffled an annoyed oath at himself. He bloody well had only himself to blame for letting Skye’s captivating charm work an enchantment on him. Besides, he was resigned to his unpalatable future. Eventually, in time, his life would be restored to the same place it was before she came into it … cold, gray, empty, joyless.

Shaking off his grim thoughts, Hawk instead focused on watching his future bride dance with her current partner. When the orchestra music came to a close, Miss Olwen cast him a timid glance, as if reluctant to return to his side.

At the sight of her timidity, an unwanted image of Skye slipped into his mind again. She was so alive and vibrant and fearless—so vastly different from the insipid girl he was supposed to wed.

Also unlike Skye, Miss Olwen seemed noticeably reluctant to marry him or even to entertain his courtship, a stance that only added to his internal conflict. For Hawk, their first dance tonight had confirmed that their union would be a grave mistake. But the untenable
problem still remained of how to extricate himself from his obligations—

Just then, he felt a light slap on his back and heard an amused drawl commenting on the irony of seeing a confirmed recluse at a crowded ball.

Turning, Hawk welcomed the unexpected appearance of one of his closest friends and fellow Guardians, Sir Alex Ryder. Ryder was tall and dark-haired like Hawk, but his build was more lean and muscular and his face more darkly tanned by the Mediterranean sun. Ryder had begun his career as a hired mercenary and was an expert in arms and munitions.

He must have just arrived in England from Cyrene, Hawk thought as they shook hands. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon, Ryder. Aren’t you supposed to be enjoying your wedding trip?”

“You know one doesn’t ignore a summons from Sir Gawain, even for nuptial bliss. He bade me return for
your
wedding—but it seems your courtship has not progressed so far.”

Hawk sidestepped the issue. “Did your new wife accompany you here?”

“Yes. Eve didn’t relish us being apart for so long, and she wanted to see Claire.”

Ryder had recently wed the love of his life, the widowed Countess of Hayden, whose younger sister Claire had surprisingly married Macky and settled in London with the former actor.

In fact, there had been a rash of happy marriages among their colleagues in recent years and some births as well. Ryder and Eve were anticipating their first child next spring. Of all their members, though, Ryder was one of the few who originally hailed from the island.

“You plan to settle on Cyrene, don’t you, Ryder?”

“Eventually, yes. Why do you ask?”

Because he couldn’t conquer the desire to ward off his current fate.

“Because I would need to find a replacement if I were to withdraw as candidate for leader.”

Ryder’s gaze narrowed in surprise. “The Olwen chit is that bad, is she?”

“She is not repulsive, if that is what you mean.”

“But you are having second thoughts.”

“You might say so.”
And fourth and fifth thoughts as well
.

A measure of guilt and regret accompanied Hawk’s subversive admission. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint and betray Sir Gawain’s hopes for him. Even so …

Ryder chuckled. “I confess I am not surprised. I never thought you two were suited in the least.”

“I am beginning to agree,” Hawk said with a grimace.

He had also concluded that he would need Ryder’s support to find an answer to his dilemma—or perhaps Ryder in conjunction with another of the elite Guardians.

“Where are the rest of our cadre at the moment?”

“I left Caro and Max on Cyrene, enjoying their newborn son. Thorne and Diana are here in England visiting his father, the duke. And Deverill and Antonia are planning a voyage to America to see his cousin Brandon.”

Hawk was about to reply when a flash of color above his head caught his eye. Both he and Ryder tensed as
they looked up, automatically reaching for weapons they weren’t carrying, given their formal attire.

But there was no need to defend themselves from the lad up in the gallery sitting astride the railing. The boy was garbed as a pirate with eye patch and sash, but the short sword he carried was painted wood, and he looked to be perhaps twelve or thirteen.

“Isn’t that Sir Gawain’s great-nephew?” Hawk asked curiously.

“Yes, Timothy is his name.”

The boy didn’t seem related to his shy older sister, Amelia. Even as they watched, Timothy carefully got to his feet and balanced on the railing with his arms held out—playing at walking the plank of a pirate ship, Hawk surmised.

The incident brought to mind another scene from years earlier, of Skye when she was a young girl, almost falling headfirst over a gallery railing to his feet.

Timothy didn’t look to be in danger of falling. In fact, seeing he had an audience, he winked down at Hawk and grinned broadly.

Precocious, bold, and adventurous was Hawk’s instinctive assessment: the very qualities that might make a good member of their league.

“I’ll be damned,” Hawk murmured. A lad like that could be groomed for the Guardians with a good chance of success.