Dark Warrior: To Tame a Wild Hawk (Dark Cloth) (15 page)

BOOK: Dark Warrior: To Tame a Wild Hawk (Dark Cloth)
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It was late the
next morning when Mandy finally awoke. Hawk had slept, with his head in his arms, at the foot of the bed; had been, in fact, dreaming of Mandy’s kisses—and sunshine. She stirred, and he lifted his head, now fully awake, looking quickly to her.

“You’re awake.” She smiled. “You look like hell.”

“So do you,” he answered with a teasing grin.

She groaned. “I’ll bet I do.”

He came forward and took her hand into both of his. “I oughta tan your backside for what you did.”

She looked into his eyes. “Would it help to say I’m sorry?”

“If you ever place yourself in danger like that again, you can expect swift retribution.”

Mandy lowered her eyes. “It
was
really foolish, wasn’t it?”
And if he knew about her weekly escapades to Ashley’s house . . . and every effort to get inside his safe . . . .
“But I honestly thought I could take care of myself. I could always sense him before. But not this time,” she whispered. “I can’t believe I didn’t sense him.”

Hawk’s gaze narrowed on her. “Do you know why that is?”

She looked up at him. He wasn’t going to like this. “It’s the man in the suit.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw, and he looked away.

“The
Grandmothers
tell me he grows stronger.”

Hawk looked at her with such tenderness, it made her heart jump. “Then we’ll just have to be more careful; more so now than ever, because I’m never losing you to the likes of him
.” He pushed a hand through his hair in frustration. “Mandy, it’s time we got married,” he told her bluntly, then wanted to kick himself for being such a clod. He should have asked her, not told her. But he was just so afraid she’d say no. Well, he’d come this far, there could be no help for it, now.

“Just like that. You say it, and it’s done. Is that it?”

“Ashley has upped the ante, and besides, you’ve only a few days left to marry or forfeit your ranch.”

Mandy was crushed. She knew they were going to get married. He’d made that clear. The
Grandmothers
had made that clear. Heck, her
dreams
had made that clear. But she’d hoped he’d want to marry her; not to fix her father’s will, not to stop the McCandles, not even for destiny—but for her. “And what happens when it’s over? Do we divorce?” Mandy asked, holding her breath.

“Heed me well
,
my woman
.
You’ll always be mine,” he growled. “You marry me—there will be no divorce
.
I’ll never let you go.” With that, he strode from the room.

Well
, she thought with a smile,
it’s a start
.

 

When next Mandy woke, it was to find Hawk next to her again, his lips nuzzling her neck, and a wild, raging fire tearing through her breast. Where before she’d felt a warm tingling, now that was replaced by an all-consuming heat. She felt hot and when she turned and met Hawk’s lips her last coherent thought was that he felt hot, too.

A knock on the door had Hawk springing from the bed, and Mandy snatching up the covers with a hot flush staining her cheeks. Meagan opened the door an instant later, sweeping into the room with a beautiful wedding gown in her arms.

“It’s ready?” Hawk questioned with an ease that had Mandy glowering.

How could he be so calm, while she, herself, lay shaking to the point she had to hide her hands and bite down on her trembling lips?

“With a few alterations, as soon as Mandy tries it on, it will be,” Meg answered, with a lighthearted giggle. “Oh Mandy, how I envy you, snapping up a man like Hawk.”

Mandy frowned. What had gotten into her friend? “What’s going on?” she demanded.

Hawk’s golden eyes held her aquamarine ones. How could he touch her so from across the room? She was quickly reminded of the events of just moments before that, to her irritation and his delight, had her blushing again.

“I know it’s every bride’s dream to wear a beautiful gown to her wedding,” he told her softly. His words caressing her like a kiss.

“Oh dear,” Meg murmured, finally noticing Mandy’s well-kissed lips.

Mandy turned a baleful glare on her friend
.
“Not one word,”
she warned.

Meg only laughed. “I can’t wait to see Ashley’s face.”

“Not until after the wedding!” Hawk reminded her sharply.

Meg blinked. “Well, of course.” Her answer was a smug smile. “But then, I shall march right over, the instant you’re on your way home, and relay the happy news.”

Listening to them, dawning crashed over Mandy’s head. He intended to marry her—
now—today
. “There’s not going to be a wedding!” she growled, sending two pairs of eyes in her direction. “Not today!” she quickly amended, seeing Hawk’s fierce, dark look.

“Explain yourself!”

Hawk, I simply can’t go to my wedding with a giant bruise on the side of my face.”

Hawk’s eyes glittered. He swallowed his disappointment at her obvious lack of enthusiasm.

“The bruise is on the side of your head, Mandy. Your face is virtually unmarked.” He fetched a mirror off the highboy and held it front of her so she could see.

She sat up and bent her knees, looking in the mirror.

“I swear he’ll pay for what he’s done to you,” he said, misreading the pain in her eyes.

“He already has, from what everyone has told me,” she told him softly. But her eyes had been betraying her anguish and fear at having no more barriers to put up against him. She couldn’t let the McCandles win.

Maybe Hawk would love her—someday.

“That’s only the beginning of what I have planned for him,” Hawk growled, dragging her thoughts back to the present.

Meagan sat on the other side of the bed and examined her head. “Why, if he had hit your face as hard as he hit your head, he’d have broke your jaw,” she breathed, her crystal-blue eyes wide with shock. “The whole side of your head is purple.”

Mandy’s own eyes flew to Hawk’s, and saw a menacing expression run over him unlike anything she’d witnessed before. But then, she hadn’t been very alert when he’d pulled Ashley off of her. She changed the subject before he decided to have another go at Ashley. “Hawk, I can’t do this today . . . .”

“Be there at three.” He slammed out of the room.

“Arrogant, insufferable brute,” she flung after him, hitting the bed with her fists. “Always telling me what to do!”

“I heard that, Mandy,” he growled from the hall.

Meagan shook her head with reproach, peeking out into the hallway to make sure Hawk had actually gone this time. “Mandy, you should have seen him when you were unconscious,” she told her, when she was sure he was gone. “He was quite out of his mind. He only wants to protect you from Ashley.” Meg’s eyes narrowed on her friend in total seriousness. “He really cares for you. Let him love you, let him help you and protect you, as only a husband would.”

Mandy snorted, unladylike. “And how long will he care, Meg? How long before he gets restless and moves on? I won’t fool myself into thinking this is a real wedding. It’s a bargain—nothing more. A farce I started with my anger. I get a husband’s protection and Ashley off my back; on at least the marriage part.” She looked down at the coverlet she was picking at with her nail, and took a deep breath so her voice wouldn’t betray her pain. “I’ll probably never know what Hawk’s getting out of this. He’s after his own revenge, but he won’t tell me what it is.”

Meagan frowned. “He knew Ashley before meeting you?”

Mandy nodded. “Knew him and hates him more than I do, if you can believe that.” She ran her fingers through her hair and turned away. “I’ve seen how he looked at Ashley when he didn’t think anyone was watching him. He hates him with a bitterness that can only bode ill for all of us.” She glanced at Meg, and was surprised to see her friend’s frown deepen until it furrowed her brow.

Meg’s eyes suddenly brightened, and she smiled. “Maybe so, but I saw Hawk hover over your bed, frantic with worry. He cares deeply for you, no matter his thoughts of revenge for Ashley.” She brushed imaginary wrinkles from Mandy’s wedding gown. “And you love him, despite your own vows of revenge against the McCandles. So, you see, your love and your mutual goals will see you through.”

Mandy fell back against her pillows—and groaned.

Meg looked at her and frowned. “Besides, aren’t you forgetting something? Isn’t that the destiny the
Grandmothers
have told you about?” She smiled when Mandy buried her face. “You would like to pretend otherwise, because it scares you so much. But the
Grandmothers
have told you that he is. And you, yourself, have dreamed of him for many years.” She shook her head when Mandy would have argued. “No, Mandy. You have dreamed of this for years. You know this is your path, as you say.” She laid her hand on Mandy’s arm. “You’re just scared. And it’s understandable. He affects you deeply, anyone can see that . . . but the
Grandmothers
were right, he is your destiny
.
So stop fighting it!” She grinned.

Mandy buried her face in the covers and resigned herself to her fate.

 

Chapter Seventeen

B
eads glittered on Mandy’s dress and veil, matching the tears glistening in her eyes. She stared at her reflection in the old mirror, held in place by gnarled, curled hands of carved oak. It was her wedding day.
Brides are supposed to be happy on their wedding day
, she thought with despair. What kind of bargain had she made? What kind of happiness could she ever find in such a bargain; forever loving him, and he never returning her love? Eventually getting restless; maybe even taking up with town whores. “Not bloody likely!” she growled aloud, making Meg jump. She’d kill him first.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her gown was exquisite. It clung tightly to her waist, thrusting up and enhancing her bosom. The v-shape made her small waist appear tiny. The gown was covered with yards of lace; Meg’s lace, she thought with a smile. Meg had a passion for lace.

She gave Meagan a hug, causing her friend to frown with worry. Meg had piled her hair up high on her head. Hundreds of tiny ringlets spilled softly down, and a beautiful lace veil lay in folds over her hair and shoulders.

“You’re a beautiful bride,” Meg whispered, with tears in her eyes.

Mandy smiled through her own tears.

Doc cleared his throat at the door, and both women turned and smiled at him. He grinned at Mandy. “My dear, you are indeed a vision.”

Mandy crossed the room and hugged him. “Thank you for agreeing to give me away,” she whispered in his ear, afraid to speak out loud for fear her voice would betray her.

“An honor, Mandy dear, I assure you. You make an old man proud.” He tucked her hand in his arm and led her down the stairs.

 

Hawk was not disappointed when, minutes later, she was escorted to the front room.

He was stunned.

He drank her in, with a possessive gleam in his gold-green eyes. Mandy felt the familiar warmth steal through her, leaving her limp and weak as a kitten.

If she stared into his eyes, she could feel his hands. She shook her head at her volatile emotions and darted a worried look at the others in the room, wondering if her thoughts had been as transparent to them—as they appeared to be to Hawk. The fire in his eyes told her—he could read her mind.

He was magnificent, standing there, waiting for her to reach his side. And soon after she did, their lives became irrevocably woven together. Mandy likened it to a silvery, invisible thread, joining their hearts. And she knew the
Grandmothers
smiled.

She felt rebellious right now with their sure vision of her path. A path with Hawk, their lives entwined. Her heart pounded—fanciful thoughts. But her mind soon followed down the path her heart had taken, with what would have been—could have been—had she not insisted this marriage be in name only.

She had done so only an hour ago, and he had only looked at her, an unreadable gleam in his eyes. He hadn’t argued, hadn’t said one word.

She had wanted to cry.

“Second thoughts already?” his whisper caressed her face.

Meg hugged her then, and ran off to take care of their hotel.

Mandy frowned as she watched her friend disappear. Meg was clearly enjoying this—too much. She shook her head at Hawk. “No, the marriage has its merits,” she answered, trying for a neutral tone.

He let that jab slide, grinning. “I wasn’t talking about the marriage—exactly.”

Startled, she looked up and was captured, completely off guard, by the intense look in his gold eyes. He’d read her mind again, drat the man; or was her body giving her away?

She should look away—really she should—but suddenly she couldn’t remember why.

“Give over, Mandy,” he whispered. His gaze refused to release her from the fine thread he was weaving around her. She was caressed by it, captured by it. And each time, the web grew stronger. “You want this marriage in every way, every bit as much as I; admit it, Mandy,” his low voice fanned the flames.

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