A Woman Without Lies Part 20

Frightening.

Yes, it was all of that and then some to have your personal beliefs shattered in a single savage instant.

It had happened to Angel twice. Once with Hawk, when she had learned to distrust her own judgment. And once in the wreck, when she had learned to distrust life itself.

It had been very hard for Angel to crawl out of the wreckage of her world, to learn to walk again in a new world, a world that never could be as secure as the old had been.

Love had given her strength. Derryas love. Carlsonas love. And finally, painfully, her own memories of Grant had been allowed to return, healing much of the regret and all of the bitterness.

How much worse it must be for Hawk to stand naked and alone amid the shattered pieces of his beliefs, Angel thought painfully. Hawk, who has never known love.

The sound of the trap being pulled from the seaas green embrace startled Angel. She saw the dark, angular shape clinging to the mesh and came quickly to her feet, drawn again into the world she had chosen, the world she loved. She stood on tiptoe and peered over Hawkas arm.

aItas keeper size,a she crowed. aJust look at that beauty!a Hawkas eyebrow climbed at Angelas enthusiasm. The black-eyed crab was crouched against the trap, waving its thick, serrated pincers around.

aLooks mean as h.e.l.l to me,a Hawk said.

aThe harder the sh.e.l.l, the sweeter the meat.a aThatas not the way I remember that particular bit of folk wisdom.a aNew world, new saying,a Angel retorted blithely.

She shook the trap soundly. Then, swiftly, she grabbed the distracted crab and headed back up the beach.

Hawk coiled the yellow rope, hefted the trap, and followed, wondering with each step how something as soft and silky as Angel had survived a world where teeth and claws were the rule.

Then he remembered her deft capture of the wicked-looking crab. The corners of Hawkas mouth lifted.

Maybe the better question would be how teeth and claws could survive in the presence of an angel.

21.

Hawk waded back from the boat to the sh.o.r.e. Angel waited there, stretched out on her stomach on an old quilt. Her chin was propped on her hands as she watched huge, sleek b.u.mblebees go from blossom to blossom among the scattered wildflowers.

aFeeling sorry for the flowers?a Hawk asked.

aHmmm?a murmured Angel. aWhy should I feel sorry for them?a aThe bee goes from flower to flower to flower, sipping honey and then flying on without a backward look.a aThatas the beeas point of view.a Angelas lips curved upward in a small, secret smile.

Hawk saw the smile as she rolled over gracefully and sat up to take a soda from his hand. Deftly he opened the can and gave it to her.

aWhat other point of view is there?a Hawk asked, popping open his beer.

aThe floweras.a aWhich is?a prompted Hawk, enjoying the very feminine smile on Angelas lips.

aThe flower gets bee after bee after bee.a The corners of Hawkas mouth s.h.i.+fted beneath the midnight mustache. There was a flash of white teeth and then the soft, rough-edged sound of male laughter.

Angel watched, riveted by Hawkas transformation. The hard planes of his face gentled, making his expression younger, more open, a face both experienced and warm. She had thought him harshly handsome before; when he laughed, he was more beautiful than a pagan G.o.d.

Then Hawk turned and smiled directly at Angel. She felt as though she had been handed the sun after years of darkness. Her blue-green eyes drank in every instant of Hawkas transformation.

aBee after bee after bee,a he said. He shook his head, still smiling. aAngel, youare . . . special.a aSo are you. And when you smile,a she added huskily, ayouare incredible.a Surprise changed Hawkas face again. Eyes that had lit with laughter changed to a blaze of brown when he saw that Angel, as always, was telling the truth. No matter how intently he searched her eyes, he saw only pleasure. There were no shadows of fear or unease.

aIall have to smile more often,a Hawk said quietly.

aYes,a Angel said, meeting Hawkas eyes. aThat would be . . . special.a Hawkas lean brown hand reached slowly toward Angel. His fingertips traced the burnished curve of one eyebrow, the straight line above her nose and the hollow beneath one high, slanted cheekbone. He wanted very much to lower his mouth and taste her very gently, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his lips.

Instead, Hawk smiled at Angel again and felt her own smile go through him, transforming everything it touched into radiant colors. Slowly, he withdrew his touch before the pleasure glowing in her eyes became shadowed by fear of him again.

aWhat else do we have to do for our dinner?a Hawk asked.

Although he had turned away and was gathering up the debris of the impromptu picnic, Angel heard the faint huskiness beneath Hawkas impersonal words. Suddenly she realized that she had been sitting motionless while his fingers memorized her face.

A tremor moved through Angel as she remembered what being intimate with Hawk had been like. Gentle, at first, and then fierce, hurtful.

aF-fish,a Angel said. Then she cleared her throat and tried again. aFish.a Hawk looked out beyond the narrow neck of the bay. Wind and whitecaps claimed the Inside Pa.s.sage.

aMaybe we should settle for crabs and clams,a he said doubtfully.

aIn the bay,a Angel added quickly. aFor cod. Maybe even a halibut if weare lucky.a aSalmon?a Angel sighed. aDoubt it, but anything is possible.a Even a smile from a hawk.

Working together they bundled up all the equipment. Angel waded into the bay this time. The heat of the day made the water feel merely bracing rather than punis.h.i.+ng. When she got to the boat, the water was just up to the curve of her hips.

The boatas railing was at her eye level, and there was no sea ladder at the stern.

aNow comes the hard part,a Angel said, s.h.i.+fting her grip on the bucket.

Saying nothing, Hawk dumped everything he held onto the deck. Then he grabbed the railing and pulled himself out of the water and into the boat with a single, powerful movement.

Angel stared in disbelief as Hawk leaned over and plucked the bucket out of her hand.

aWhat hard part?a Hawk asked. aCleaning the crabs?a After a moment Angel realized that Hawk wasnat teasing her. He really didnat know what she had meant. She threw a glance at the sky, silently asking why life distributed physical gifts so unfairly.

aGetting into the blasted boat,a Angel said, her voice rich with disgust. aAt least for some of us mere mortals, itas the hard part.a Hawk looked startled for a moment, then understood. His mustache s.h.i.+fted and glimmered with dark lights as he fought not to smile. Keeping his head down and taking his time about it, he braced the bucket so that it wouldnat be kicked over in a careless moment.

Despite her disgust at her own limitation, Angel smiled.

aGo ahead,a she said. aSmile. Iall get even.a Soft, masculine laughter sent ripples of sensation through Angel. Hawk lifted his head and leaned over the rail toward her, revealing the white flash of his smile.

She noticed that both of his eyeteeth were slightly crooked, and there was a scar along the upper curve of his lip. The small imperfections in Hawkas smile only made it more beautiful to her, like the flaws that made each piece of m.u.f.f gla.s.s unique.

Then the smile vanished, leaving only fierce, clear brown eyes watching her.

aLet me help you,a Hawk said.

aYouare going to loan me your wings, right?a Angel asked wryly.

aSort of.a Hawk grasped Angel under her arms and lifted. He pivoted as he lifted, bringing her smoothly aboard without banging her s.h.i.+ns against the railing. He saw the wince that she tried to conceal. Very gently, he set her down on the deck.

With a sigh, Angel forced her body to relax despite the pain lancing down her back from the hook wound. She knew that tensing against pain only made it worse. She breathed carefully and moved her shoulder.

aIam sorry,a Hawk said. aI didnat mean to hurt you.a aYou didnat.a aYou winced.a aMy backas still a bit sore,a Angel said.

aLet me see.a For a moment Angel hesitated, remembering the last time Hawk had washed the wounds left by the fishhook. But this time she had on a bathing suit beneath her blouse, and it was full daylight rather than the mysterious intimacy of twilight on the sea.

And this time I know that an angel and a hawk are a bad match in bed.

aAll right,a Angel said.

She turned her back on Hawk and unb.u.t.toned everything quickly. When she flexed her shoulders in order to take her arms out of the long-sleeved blouse, she winced again.

aI meant to have Derry check it buta"a The hiss of Hawkas indrawn breath cut off Angelas words. Dark eyes looked at the damage to tender flesh. The twin wounds where the hook had gone in were swollen, angry, hot to the touch.

Hawkas mouth flattened into a grim line. He remembered the instant when Angel had thrown herself at him, protecting his face at the cost of her own flesh.

And then he had repaid her care by making her bleed again, hurting her even more.

aWhen was the last time you soaked this?a Hawk asked, his words like a whip.

Angel tightened to hear the harshness back in Hawkas voice.

aI havenat,a she said carefully, neutrally. aItas rather hard to reach.a Hawk swore softly, a single violent word.

aIall heat some water,a he said curtly.

Angel started to object, then realized it would do no good. She looked at the sun.

Plenty of time left for cod fis.h.i.+ng, she rea.s.sured herself. A whole afternoon.

Maybe even a nap.

She hadnat slept very well last night, with every sense alert to Hawkas presence on the small boat. Not that a bigger boat would have been any better. At times, the knowledge that she and Hawk shared the same world was enough to unnerve Angel.

While Hawk heated the water, Angel spread the picnic quilt over the pad at the stern of the boat, where she had slept the night before. Carefully she stretched out on her stomach.

Though she wore only a bathing suit, she wasnat cold. The sun was directly overhead, pouring warmth and light into the tiny, sheltered bay. The boat rocked very gently, rising with the subtle movements of the tide.

Random fingers of wind combed the trees, making them s.h.i.+ver and sigh, sounds that blended with the liquid murmur of water.

aAre you awake?a Hawk asked softly.

aMmmmmm,a Angel said.

She turned her face toward Hawk, too relaxed to worry about making whole words into sentences.

Hawk looked at Angel with a hunger he could barely conceal. Her eyelashes made intriguing, fringed shadows that quivered across her clear skin. Sun had brought a delicate flush to her cheeks, and peace had softened her lips into full, sensual curves. The bathing suit was the exact color of her eyes in the sun, vivid blue-green, s.h.i.+ning softly.

She had unclipped her hair and swept it aside. It s.h.i.+mmered white-gold in the sun, a fire burning across the dark quilt. Then there was the smooth curve of her shoulders, the tempting shadow valley of her spine, the contrast of her narrow waist against the surprisingly ripe swell of her hips, the graceful length of her legs emphasized by the French cut of her suit . . .

Every line of Angelas body was so essentially feminine that Hawk had to look away from her for a moment in order to control the hunger that raged through him.

After a few moments, Hawk sat down next to Angel. He concentrated on wringing out the washcloth in the pan of gently steaming water. The sounds were liquid, sensual, like the sea and the sun and the random caress of the wind.

Hunger was an aching, insistent heat between Hawkas thighs. Grimly he shaped the washcloth into a pad and placed it on the small, angry wound.

aTell me if itas too hot,a Hawk said.

Angelas eyes closed until there was only a suggestion of blue-green glitter.

aDoes it hurt?a Hawk asked softly, his voice gritty. Then, aI donat want to hurt you again, Angel.a Her breath came out slowly.

aItas fine, Hawk.a He let out a long breath. aGood. Iall be back in a minute.a When Hawk returned, he was wearing jeans over his swim trunks. He rinsed out the wash-cloth, renewing its heat. With the gentleness that was becoming second nature when he touched Angel, Hawk placed the pad over the wound.

aAll right?a he asked quietly.

Angel nodded, sending ripples of light through her hair.

Sitting down again, Hawk looked at Angel with dark brooding eyes. Every time he rinsed out the washcloth, the twin wounds mocked him.

No one had ever gone out of the way to save Hawk from hurt before. Angelas unselfishness was as shattering to him as her innocence.

And now he wanted her as he had never wanted a woman in his life. Yet even greater than his desire was his determination not to hurt her again. She had been hurt too much already, lost too much.

There were too many ghosts in her beautiful eyes.

aYou should have let the hook go into me.a Hawk didnat realize that he had spoken his thought aloud until Angelas eyes opened, blue-green, as deep as the sea.

aI couldnat,a she said simply.

aWhy not? Other people would have.a Angel tried to answer, but in the end could only shrug.

aI just couldnat. I knew what was happening. You didnat. You had no way to protect yourself from something you couldnat foresee.a aThatas the nature of life,a Hawk said sardonically. Then, much more softly, aI wish I had known you a long time ago. Beforea"a Abruptly his words stopped. He rinsed out the cloth again, replaced it very gently on her skin.

aBefore what?a Angel asked.

She watched Hawk from beneath her long eyelashes, wondering what memories had drawn his face into cold predatory lines.

aWho was she, Hawk?a aThere was more than one.a The sardonic voice and cold line of Hawkas mouth were back, yet his hands were still gentle. Then his face changed, hardening into contempt.

aThatas not quite true,a he said clearly. aThere was only one woman, really. The first one. She taught me everything a woman can teach a man.a aExcept love.a aShe didnat have that in her.a Angel closed her eyes against sudden tears. She could no longer bear to see his eyes narrowed against memories that brought only pain. The hunger and the yearning buried deep within him reached out to Angel with unnerving force.

Who was she?

What did she do that taught Hawk hatred rather than love?