Hawk and the Cougar

by Tarah Scott

  “Motherfucker,” Hawk ground out.

  “Hawk!”

  “Professor Hawkins!”

  Hawk jumped to his feet, dragging the man up with him. “I warned Reid.”

  Hawk slammed a fist into his stomach. He doubled over with a heavy grunt. Hawk swung an uppercut to his jaw. The man flew back and landed on the neighbour’s lawn. Hawk leapt onto him like a wild animal, fist raised. Weight dragged his right arm down as he threw the punch, and Liz jerked forward from the force of gripping his arm. She fell on top of the man. Hawk seized her arm and pulled her off him.

  “Hawk!” she shouted as he raised another fist, aiming for the man.

  She grabbed his arm again. He yanked his gaze onto her.

  “I’m okay,” she said.

  He blinked.

  “He wasn’t trying to kill me.”

  “What?”

  “The blood, it’s his, not mine.”

  Hawk glanced from her blood-stained pants to the man. Blood soaked his face where his nose had been broken, and his left trouser leg was drenched with blood. He moaned.

  Gentle fingers cupped Hawk’s jaw, and Liz turned his face towards hers. “I’d rather you didn’t go to jail for killing him.”

  Hawk shoved away from him, pulling Liz into his arms as he gained his feet. He held her, unable to do anything else. He became aware of the blare of an approaching police siren and registered the fact that Emma stood a few feet away.

  “Damn it,” he cursed. “Emma…”

  Liz turned and opened her arms. Emma launched herself into her mother’s embrace, tears streaming down her face. Hawk looked up to find neighbours up and down the street standing on their lawns and on the sidewalk, watching. Blue and red lights bounced off the houses an instant before a cruiser sped around the corner. Hawk started towards the kerb as the car came to a skidding halt in front of Liz’s house. The driver’s side door swung open and a cop jumped out, hand resting on his gun.

  “We’re all right, officer,” Hawk said.

  The cop’s eyes flicked to the man lying on the grass as he took two steps to meet Hawk. “What happened?”

  The other cop came around the hood.

  Hawk pointed to Liz’s attacker. “That man broke into Ms Williams’ home and attacked her.”

  The police officer’s gaze shifted to his partner. “Check him out.”

  The other cop started around Hawk.

  “What do you have to do with this?” the officer Hawk was talking to asked.

  “Ms Williams’ daughter and I happened to pull up when she was running from the garage.”

  The cop flicked another glance at Liz’s attacker, then looked back at Hawk. “Looks like she didn’t need any help.”

  Hawk nodded.

  Liz and Emma appeared at their side, Liz’s arm around Emma.

  “You all right, ma’am?” the officer asked.

  “It’s not my blood,” she said, then blurted, “The police.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the officer replied.

  She shook her head and looked at Hawk. “The plain-clothes officers.”

  “What is she talking about?” the officer demanded.

  “We’re part of an investigation against Vance Reid,” Hawk said. “She was supposed to have police protection to stop this from happening.” Hawk looked at her. “Where was the car, Liz?”

  “It’s the white Chevy across the street.”

  Hawk and the cop turned. Hawk started towards the empty vehicle, but the cop stopped him. “Stay here.”

  Hawk slipped an arm around Liz as the three of them watched the cop cross to the Chevy. He stopped on the driver’s side, then turned and murmured something into the radio clipped to his shoulder. When he leaned into the window, Hawk knew the cops were there, but not conscious. He hoped like hell they weren’t dead.

  His blood went cold. How was he going to protect Liz until Reid was behind bars?

  * * * *

  Liz stared at Hawk. Unlike Emma, who sat beside her at the kitchen table, Hawk stood, staring down at her with a fierce determination that made him look very much like a hawk about to swoop down on its prey. And she was the prey.

  She shook her head. “I’ve said it a dozen times, I’ll say it again. You’re out of your mind.” He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. “It’s late. We’re all tired.”

  They had spent the better part of the night at the police station. The two plain-clothes officers who’d been stationed outside her house had been drugged, the coffee given to them by a little old lady who’d claimed to live down the block.

  After the police had finished questioning them, Hawk had returned with Liz and Emma to their place. And now refused to leave.

  “You’ll think differently of this in the morning,” Liz said.

  “It’s my fault you’re in this mess to begin with,” he said.

  She softened. “That’s ridiculous. You had no control over the fact that Reid’s men showed up when you and I were talking. You couldn’t know a simple conversation would turn into this.”

  “Simple conversation?” Emma snorted.

  Liz shot her a quelling look.

  “I’ve only just found you, Liz. I have no intention of losing you.”

  Liz jerked her gaze onto him. “Hawk,” she began, then remembered her daughter. “Reid is in custody. He can’t hurt me.”

  “He’s out on bail.”

  Fear clenched her stomach. “You can’t know that.”

  “That phone call a few minutes ago was from a friend. I know.”

  “They only arrested him a few hours ago.”

  “Damn it, Liz. I see the fear in your eyes. You can’t expect me to walk away.”

  “I’m not asking you to walk away. You just can’t live in this house.”

  “It’s not permanent,” Emma said.

  “It’ll be months before his case goes to trial,” Liz said.

  “Mom—”

  “Enough, Emma,” Liz cut in. “We need to get some sleep.”

  “You’re right,” Em agreed. “It’s very late, and I have class tomorrow.” She rose and leaned towards Hawk. “Talk to her.”

  “Emma!”

  “I’m going to say goodnight to Professor Hawkins’ friends, then go to bed.”

  By friends, Liz knew she meant Elan Blackbear, the youngest of the four men Hawk had guarding the house. He wasn’t taking any chances.

  “With that army outside, you can go home and get some rest,” Liz told him.

  Emma paused in the arched doorway to the foyer. “You forgot something, Mom.”

  Liz’s heart skipped a beat. What was wrong?

  Emma smiled. “Who’s going to protect you from yourself?” She turned and disappeared into the foyer.

  A moment later, the front door opened and Emma said, “Hey,” then the door clicked shut.

  “I think you played matchmaker bringing that boy here,” Liz said.

  “He was a good choice,” Hawk said, “and he’s no boy.”

  Hawk grasped her arm, and Liz closed her eyes as he pulled her to her feet.

  He slid his arm around her. “Neither am I.”

  She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. The determination remained, but a soft light tempered the hard edge. Butterflies skimmed the inside of her stomach. In the two days she’d known him, he’d risked his life as many times for her. He lowered his mouth towards hers.

  Was she going to let a few years stop her from getting to know this man? His lips covered hers, slow, easy…with an intent that told her a long night lay ahead of them—and she would be sore all over again.

  Was she going to let him get away? Liz sighed into the kiss, then wrapped her arms around his neck.

  No way.

  Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:

  A Knight of Passion

  Tarah Scott

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Scottish Highlands, 1338

  Lady Riana Elli
s dribbled three drops of poison from the wooden phial into the goblet sitting on the nightstand beside the wine she would drink.

  Fill the goblet to the brim, and death would be quick.

  But the fires of Hell that followed would last forever.

  Even hellfire paled in comparison to the nightmare that was Arundel.

  If not for her younger sister living as ward of the Duke and Duchess of Arundel, Riana would have ingested poison long ago…if not for the fact the duke and duchess now had food tasters, she would have slipped poison into their food long ago. Instead, she must now feed the lethal fluid to Sir Neas Dunbar in order to save Siusan from the duke’s cock.

  Riana fitted the top back onto the phial. She shivered despite the fire that crackled in the hearth to her left, and rubbed gooseflesh from her naked arms. The duchess’ order to murder the knight came with the explicit instruction, “Fuck him hard first.”

  Anger clenched Riana’s stomach. The duchess thrived on the fact this would be the man's last night amongst the living, and had issued the edict because she wanted to watch. Her morbid fascination would be Riana’s advantage—if she pulled off what was to be the performance of her life.

  The very thought of watching a man fuck the woman who was about to murder him would have the duchess panting like a bitch in heat. Already, she would be sitting behind the large painting that hung over the bed…waiting. Riana had purposely kept her naked breasts from the duchess’ view, knowing just the sight of her rounded buttocks in the soft firelight would hold the older woman spellbound in anticipation of that first glimpse of rosy areolae and dark curls.

  In the hours the duchess watched Riana from behind the painting, Siusan and their surrogate father Glen would flee Arundel for a village in the south of France. By the time Sir Dunbar sucked Riana’s nipples into painful hardness, the duchess would be unable to tear herself from watching them. When he finally stuffed his fingers between her folds and rammed his cock into her arse, Siusan and Glen would be riding hard. The knight was sure to do all this and more, for the duchess would instruct him as she did every man Riana serviced: “Ride her hard. She is made for it.”

  Siusan and Glen’s final security would be if the duchess had brought one of her favourites from among the servants to suck her cunt while she watched. Once she had satiated her perverted desires, and Riana fed the knight the poisoned wine, the duchess would retire to her chambers and await news that Sir Dunbar had been found dead in his bed.

  The Sheriff would be called from his chambers, where the duchess had installed him the night before, and he would conclude the knight had died of a heart attack while rutting between Riana’s legs—even if the duchess had to throw coin his way to ensure the verdict.

  If Riana administered the poison first, Sir Dunbar’s heart would slow while he pumped into her, until, at last, the veneer of death would be complete. That would be a sight that could keep the duchess distracted indefinitely. But Riana had been unable to overcome her revulsion at thought of the knight’s cock going limp inside her as his dead weight pinned her to the mattress.

  Sir Dunbar had left a trail of English blood across the Scottish Highlands. The duchess was a fool to think anyone would believe the heart that beat within his massive chest could give way due to even the most rigorous thrusts of his cock into a woman’s cunt. Yet, if the duchess had her way, he would fuck Riana, she would hang for his murder, and Siusan would take her place as Arundel’s whore.

  A tremor rippled through Riana. She had served as a whore too long to feel guilt over spreading her legs. But murder? And to what end? The fact she had killed a man at the duchess’ command wouldn’t obligate the older woman to safeguard Siusan from the duke.

  Siusan had grown into a young woman whose pale beauty surpassed Riana’s darker hair and complexion. The duke’s increasing demands to have Siusan’s maidenhead tightened the duchess’ stranglehold over Riana. But Riana had her own leverage. The moment the duchess could no longer protect Siusan, Riana would forego the poison and drive a dagger into her heart. Then hang for the crime without remorse. Riana suppressed a bitter laugh. Apparently murder was as easy to grow accustomed to as was fornication.

  But until Siusan was safely away, Riana couldn’t forget that the duchess’ cruelty was matched only by the duke’s depravity. She choked back a recollection of the day he had stripped away her memory of how sweet love could be and replaced it with understanding of how a man’s cock could foul a woman’s every orifice. Riana bit back tears. Curse the war that had taken her father and husband. Even God had deserted them. But she wouldn’t wait for God or anyone else to save them. Tonight, she would end this madness. Riana closed her eyes and released a slow breath. Fail, and the duke wasn’t the only threat they faced.

  The duke and duchess secretly supported Edward Balliol, Scotland’s puppet king of Edward III, King of England and self-appointed Lord Parliament of Scotland. Most of Scotland had been retaken by Sir Andrew Murray, leader of Robert the Bruce’s faction. But King Edward III intended to wrest Scotland from him at all costs.

  Two months ago, one of the Disinherited—the Anglo Saxon Scots led by Balliol—had secretly visited Arundel, and Riana learnt the duke and duchess had plotted with him to finance Balliol. She’d passed the information to Sir Fostar, who had fought alongside her father and husband.

  Sir Fostar warned Riana that Scotland would bring a sentence of forfeiture against the duke, and seize his wealth and land. If Riana and Siusan weren’t far away, they would become casualties in the political aftermath. They couldn’t return to their mother—her new husband would shun women branded as followers of the English king. Riana envisioned her and Siusan wandering the streets and, eventually, forced into a brothel.

  She glanced from the goblet laced with poison to the door. Her pulse raced. Tears rushed to the surface and burned her eyes before she could halt them. Once the knight appeared, there would be no turning back. Her heart twisted. She was as big a fool as the duchess. There had never been any turning back.

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  About the Author

  Award winning author Tarah Scott cut her teeth on books such as The Bobbsey Twins (yes, she is dating herself!) Nancy Drew, Aesop's Fables, The Arabian Knights, and Grimms Fairy Tales. Authors such as Georgette Heyer, Zane Grey, and Mark Twain filled her teenage years. Her favourite book is a Tale of Two Cities, with Gone With the Wind as a close second. Favourite modern authors are Stephen King, Anne Rice, Amanda Quick, and Johanna Lindsey.

  Born in New Mexico, Tarah grew up in the Southwest. Fifteen years ago, she relocated to Westchester County, New York, where she and her daughter reside in a lakeside community. When not working, writing, or reading—who are we kidding? She's always working, writing, or reading. Oh! There is her daughter. They do manage to spend a lot of time together.

  Email: tscott@tarahscott.com

  Tarah loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

  Also by Tarah Scott

  A Knight of Passion

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  www.total-e-bound.com

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