Hawk's Haven (8 page)

"I am not throwing a hissy fit."

"No, of course not counselor."

Her field of vision was diminished by the darkening sky but she refused to ask for help. Nor would she admit that the strange noises she hadn’t noticed before, gave her the creeps. She tried her best to keep up with him along the worn path.

When she could no longer see him in front of her she grabbed hold of Hawk’s arm, depending on his sure-footed steps and familiarity with the mountain, to guide her. A piercing screech echoed through the mountain. Frightened, she whirled around to see where the sound came from.

Her heart began to race. “Hawk?”

“I’m right here.” His voice seemed to come from all sides. She’d lost her sense of direction and wasn't sure which way to go. Wandering aimlessly, she fought the panic rising to the surface. Each footstep echoed, giving her the feeling of being followed.

She took a deep breath. Unchecked, her imagination would run wild. Chirping crickets and screeching owls were not supernatural beasts with deadly intentions. Just ahead, she saw a light and hurried in the direction of the source.

An eerie glow illuminated a massive boulder. Fear rooted her in place as she stared at the shadow of a large bird moving slowly across the boulder. It’s just a bird, she tried to convince herself.

She willed her body to move but she remained frozen in place. The shadow of a man moved into view, the giant proportion of the specter made larger by the headdress set like a crown upon his head. Chills ran through her.

"Hawk," she squeaked out, although she’d tried to scream.

As the figure turned to a side profile, she saw the arrow extending from his chest. Tokonda. To the few who have seen his spirit, tragedy always follows.

She shrieked and collapsed to the ground.

* * * *

Hawk whirled around to find Gillian huddled on the ground behind him. While indulging his hissy fit he’d forgotten that Ike would be in the shadows, playing out a joke they'd played a hundred times before. He was supposed to be at her side making sure she was all right, not ten feet ahead, behaving like a rejected school boy.

He found her hunched over, coughing and gasping. Her body shook uncontrollably. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and she fought with a strength he hadn't thought possible in her frightened state.

"Gillian," he said.

Like an animal caught in a trap, she clawed at his arms. He locked his fingers around her wrists and held her against his chest, calmly repeating her name until, gradually the fight left her body.

She went limp in his arms. Her golden hair, bathed in moonlight fell in her face. He pushed back a handful of the silken strands and placed a kiss on her temple. “It’s all right,”

"Why did you leave me?” Her choked words were barely audible.

A thousand answers, all of which condemned his juvenile behavior, sprang to mind. Apparently she didn't realize he and Ike had set the whole thing up. Tell her the truth, he mocked himself, but only said, "I was just ahead of you."

"Take me home," she whispered.

He prayed she meant his house and not Butler Square.  Using his chest for support, she pushed to her feet. She glanced towards the boulder, illuminated only by the moon. Hawk wanted to explain, but the words died on his lips. He slid his arm across her back and guided her down the mountain.

As the lights of the town came into view, she picked up the pace. She stepped onto the dirt road and dashed to the house as if the devil was chasing her. Or a ghost, he amended.

He entered the house to find her turning on all the lights. Her skin was flushed and her blue eyes wide with fright. She paced back and forth on the wooden floors.

"Are you okay, Gillian?"

"What?” She glanced at him as if she didn't understand the question.

He put his hands on her shoulders and used his thumbs to knead the tension at the base of her neck. "We need to talk."

"I'm fine," she muttered, sounding anything but.

“You should get some rest.”

“I said I’m fine.”

He understood her reluctance to sleep, but he couldn't leave her alone in her present state. Any minute, he felt certain she would pop like the cork on a bottle of French champagne.

"T.V.?" he asked. She shrugged and joined him on the sofa to watch a baseball game.

Hawk took it as an encouraging sign when she curled up next to him. He eased her into his lap and placed a throw pillow under her head. She seemed content to stare absently at the screen as he stroked her hair. Her breathing returned to normal and the color returned to her cheeks. Perhaps the worst was over, he thought.

The home team was playing the Atlanta Braves and a close up of the team mascot, a warrior chief, sent Gillian bolting into an upright position. He should have known her tranquil mood was
too
good to last. The spirits still had a score to settle with him.

"About what happened in the woods...?”

"I don't want to talk about it," she mumbled.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" she fired back quickly while grasping the fabric of his pullover in a white-knuckle grip. Her animated answer should have been a relief, even a triumph, but instead he felt like a heel.

He tried to pry her fingers loose. "I'll stay for a while."

As if he’d just presented her with a ten karat diamond, she threw her arms around his neck and clung to him. He meant only to offer comfort, to let her roller-coaster emotions run the full course before trying to reason with her.

Trying to reason with her?

Who was he kidding? There was nothing wrong with her reasoning that a dose of truth couldn't cure.  How could he look into those huge blue eyes and tell her that he was responsible for the terror reflected in their depths? How could he not?

"Gillian...” His confession was cut short as she brushed a kiss across his lips.

* * * *

Gillian felt Hawk’s initial hesitation, but she was determined to break through his steely control. Never in her sheltered life had she made a pass at a man. Instinct and the thought of him leaving, gave her the courage to press herself closer. She would do anything to make him stay. Anything to rid her of the emptiness that engulfed her.

For a young woman of her age and reputation, Gillian was naive when it came to men. And completely out of her element with Hawk. He’d stormed away when she’d put a halt to his advances. Now she was offering herself and he seemed reluctant to accept.

In one final attempt to crack his resolve, she slipped her hand under his pullover and ran her hand freely over the wide expanse of his chest, a pleasure she’d wanted to experience since she first saw him without his shirt. His muscles bunched as her fingers lightly grazed his nipples.

She tilted her head and met his lips again. He hesitated, for what seemed like an eternity before covering her mouth in a hot, moist kiss that sent her into the state of oblivion she was seeking. No paralyzing thoughts or hellish visions, just pure sensual feelings clouding her mind.

His tongue stroked her lips and plunged deep in her mouth. A welcoming heat spread though her body, chasing away the last remains of her earlier chills. She wanted to touch him, to see if she affected him in the same way he affected her. With a boldness born of curiosity and desire, she reached for his belt buckle.

He groaned painfully and wrapped her tighter in his embrace, at the same time gaining control of her hand. Her cry of complaint echoed through the room as he broke away from her.

"Slow down.” His voice was raspy and he coughed to clear his throat. "Gillian..."

His abrupt ending left her achingly unfulfilled. Frustration, with a force she'd never experienced before, made her dizzy. She gazed up at Hawk, but he didn't look any better than she felt. Why had he backed away?

She waited for an explanation but Hawk only stared as if searching for his own elusive answers.

"Am I doing something wrong?" she finally asked.

His smile seemed to be shrouded in sorrow. "No. You're doing everything right. A little too right to handle."

"Don't you want me?” She cringed at the desperation in her voice. What next? Would she beg him to make love to her?  A hot flush washed over her and she squirmed self-consciously in his arms.  

He stroked his finger along her cheek, stilling her with his tender touch. "Yes. I do."

Was she supposed to understand this? Lord, she missed her computer. And least it had logic. "Then why did you stop?"

"Why did you start?" he countered.

"I don't want you to leave."

He pressed a chaste kiss against her forehead. "I'm not going to."

"You did the last time I asked you to stop."

Apology flashed in his dark eyes. "A foolish mistake I won’t repeat."

He lifted her effortlessly and carried her into the bedroom. The brass bed, covered with a bright hand woven spread, squeaked as he gently set her down. He removed her sneakers, then kicked off his own before stretching out next to her and cradling her in the crook of his arm.

As he reached for the lamp switch, she clamped her fingers over his wrist. “Leave it on.”

"All right. Get some sleep, Gillian."

Sleep? Did he honestly think she could sleep like this? She’d never shared a bed with anyone, let alone a man whose very touch awakened her with desire. No, surely sleep would not come tonight.

Hawk had inherited the mysterious powers of his ancient ancestors. He used his magical touch to caress the tension from her limbs. The heat from his body wrapped her in a cocoon of protection, the likes of which she hadn't felt since she was five years old.

Chapter S
even

Gillian awoke to the sound of a singing magpie. The morning sun filtering through the open window blanketed her in uncomfortable heat. Her body ached. As she stretched to ease the tightness from her muscles, her hand made contact with a solid mass and her eyes flew open wide.

Hawk's features, softened with sleep, brought to mind the events of last night. She smiled. The cold, calculating lawyer had a tender side after all. Luckily for her, he was a gentleman, too.

Had she really pleaded with him to stay? Her cheeks grew hot and she quickly slipped out of bed.

She changed into a sleeveless cotton shift and quietly left through the back door. Clean, fresh air filled her lungs, working quicker than a cup of coffee in bringing life to the weary body. A morning walk would clear her muddled thoughts. She slipped her hands in her pockets and strolled along the bank of the stream that ran along the edge of the property. 

A half hour later, she stopped to splash cool water on her face and arms. In the comfort of morning light she stared up at the mystical mountain and felt foolish about her panic. As a child, she'd had an irrational fear of the dark, but she thought she’d outgrown it. Shadows in the night sky and the eerie cries of the forest creatures had conspired to play tricks with her mind. Hawk's story also weighed heavy in her thoughts. She couldn't blame him for her anxiety attack since she’d all but bribed him to tell her the tale.

A gentle hand on her shoulder caused her to let out a startled gasp. She whirled around. "Martha?"

  "You're as nervous as a rabbit near a fox’s den. What are you doing out so early?"

Gillian's pulse raced. Yes she was nervous, but of what?  "I'm trying to convince myself that I have a runaway imagination and that there are no restless spirits roaming the mountain."

"What spirits?” Martha's face grew angry and Gillian wondered if she’d offended the proud woman.

"Nothing. I thought I saw something but ..."

"Don't tell me you saw the old warrior chief, Tokonda?"

Gillian's gaping stare answered her.

The older woman kicked a pebble and let out a grunt. "I'll kill them. The two of them," Martha hissed.

"Who?"

"Thomas and Ike."

"It's not their fault," Gillian assured her. "I begged Hawk to tell me about Tokonda."

Martha put a motherly arm around Gillian's shoulder.  Concern and a flash of pity narrowed the eyes that rested on Gillian's face. "What you saw was Ike, dressed in a tribal headdress and standing in front of a covered spotlight. There has never been a warrior chief named Tokonda. In fact, Tokonda is a brand of fertilizer made from horse manure."

"But the eagle..."

"A trained falcon, Ike's hobby."

"I don't understand," Gillian mumbled, but things were becoming clearer by the second.

"It was a joke, Gillian, although not a funny one. I didn't like it when they were sixteen and pulling that stunt on the local girls and I like it less now that they're adults. Or supposed to be."

A joke. Gillian felt her body go cold. A joke. She made herself sick with fear, threw herself at Hawk, and it was a joke. How stupid could she be?