Heart of the Hawk

by Sandra Marton

  'It's not even eight o'clock!'.

  'Then I'll check on Jamie.'

  'Emma's sleeping in the nursery.' David took a strand of her hair in his fingers, letting the dark curl loop softly around his hand. 'Why do you keep running from me, Rachel?'

  She swallowed drily. 'I don't. I...'

  'You have to learn not to run,' he said softly. 'All it does is draw attention. Even a rabbit knows that.'

  There was a thread of warning in the simple words. Her eyes lifted to his, and she thought suddenly that she knew how the rabbit felt under the fierce gaze of the hawk. Rachel tore her eyes from his face and looked downward in confusion. His shirt was V-necked; she could see the pulse beating in the hollow of his throat. Dark tendrils of hair curled above the V. His hand slid to her throat, his fingers touching her lightly, their callused strength stroking lazy patterns on her skin.

  'David...' She put her hand on his forearm and suddenly she remembered how it had felt to have his arms around her. Her breath quickened and she pulled away from him. 'Don't... don't you have to leave for work?' It was trite, but it was all she could think of.

  The sound of his laughter was throaty and intimate, as if he knew what she'd been thinking.

  'That's the nicest part of being your own boss—you make your own hours. I'm taking today off.' He grinned and touched his index finger to the tip of her nose. 'This is a red letter day, Rachel. My son has two brand new teeth, remember?'

  Relief flooded through her at the change in their conversation and she laughed softly.

  'Of course. Well, what'll it be? A party at the Waldorf? A twenty-one gun salute?'

  'Go on, woman, tease me all you like. When my son does something...'

  'All babies get teeth, David,' she said gently.

  'Teeth like those? And two at once?' He laughed and turned her towards the doorway. 'Come on, get into your city best. We're going to buy that boy a present.'

  'But what could he possibly need? You've already given him everything.'

  'We're not going to get him something he needs, we're going to get him something special. And I know just the place to find it.'

  Two hours later, Rachel had given up asking David where they were going. 'Is this it?' she had asked as the Jaguar approached a shopping centre.

  'No,' he had said mysteriously. 'Not this one.'

  After she had got the same answer six times, she had sighed and resigned herself to watching the landscape whizz by. All she was certain of was that they were heading south. Twisting mountain roads gave way to the houses of suburbia, and finally she could see the towers of New York City rising in the distance.

  'All this for a toy store?' she asked.

  David flashed her a quick smile. 'This isn't just a toy store. It's Mecca for kids. Just wait until you see it!'

  By the time they reached Manhattan, she was sure she knew where they were going. The man was crazy, she told herself as they drove up Fifth Avenue, but nicely so.

  'We're going to FAO Schwarz, aren't we?' she asked.

  David grinned at her. 'Absolutely. Have you been there?'

  She shook her head. 'It's too expensive for me, but I know about it. Everybody in New York knows about it.'

  'Then you're long overdue for a visit. I guarantee that you'll feel as if you were a kid again inside of ten minutes!'

  For a fleeting instant, Rachel wondered whether she'd lost her mind. Here she was, seated alongside David Griffin, laughing and talking with him as if they were friends and not adversaries. But there was no time to think. He was hurrying her into the store, tugging her after him towards what looked like a teddy-bear convention. And within minutes, all her efforts were concentrated on the merits of talking bears versus plain, huggable teddies. And then, of course, there were brown bears as opposed to white bears, and it wasn't easy to decide whether big ones were better than little ones...

  Finally Rachel surrendered. 'Go on, David, buy all of them. We'll give Jamie one bear a day for a week, then he'll have his own bear pack.'

  David laughed. 'The perfect solution! You heard the lady,' he said to the salesman. 'We'll take them all. Gift-wrapped, of course.'

  The salesman smiled. 'Of course, sir. Will there be anything else?'

  'Yes,' said David, taking Rachel's arm. 'We need a... what do we need, Rachel? A train? A new set of blocks? Finger paints?'

  She looked up at him and shook her head. 'Are you joking? You just bought Jamie a dozen stuffed animals!'

  'Seven,' he said modestly.

  'And you want to buy something else? David, you'll spoil him!'

  'Babies can't be spoiled,' he said, 'only loved. Didn't anybody ever tell you that? Besides, you haven't got him anything yet. What do you think he'd like? Trains? Yes, sure, every boy has to have a set of trains. But which kind? Wooden? Electric?'

  Rachel sighed in defeat. 'Wooden ones. He's only a year old.'

  David nodded solemnly. 'See? It's a good thing you came with me. What do I know about babies?' He turned to the salesman who had followed them at a discreet distance. 'Trains,' he said. 'Wooden ones. Well, electric ones, too. He'll grow into them,' he added before Rachel could protest. 'Kids his age grow fast.'

  She had to laugh. It was like watching a child turned loose in a candy store! David directed the salesman from one end of the store to the other. Blocks, soldiers, cars, trucks—the toys piled up before them, an assortment large enough to keep a dozen children busy for years. David's own delight in all of them was infectious. He wound things up and watched them go with a childish pleasure that made people around them smile, and Rachel found herself imagining the bleak emptiness of his own childhood. What a lonely little boy he must have been... She stepped forward at last and put her hand on his arm.

  'David,' she said gently, 'really, that's enough. Jamie will never be able to play with all that.'

  He looked at the stacks of toys and flashed her an embarrassed smile. 'I guess I went overboard, huh?' he said, raking his fingers through his hair. 'OK, no more for today. I'd like these delivered, please.'

  The salesman nodded. 'Certainly, sir. And may I say your son is very fortunate to have such a loving mother and father.'

  Rachel shook her head. 'Oh, but we're not...' The explanation caught in her throat.

  David's hand closed over hers. 'Thank you,' he said. 'We do, indeed, love our boy. Don't we, Rachel?'

  She was afraid to answer. She nodded instead and then turned and headed blindly for the door, David's voice echoing hollowly in her ears.

  'Rachel? Rachel, wait..."

  'I want to go back now, David,' she said stiffly, standing on the pavement. 'It's getting late.'

  'Look, the guy didn't mean anything...'

  'I want to go back to the house,' she repeated.

  'He just made a natural assumption...'

  She brushed the tears from her eyes. 'Drop it, please.'

  'Dammit, Rachel, why are you crying?'

  White-faced, she swung around to face him, oblivious to the hurrying pedestrians swirling past.

  'Because I just remembered that I have to give Jamie up,' she said fiercely. 'That's why.'

  David nodded slowly. 'Yes, I've been thinking about that.'

  There was a prickle of fear on her spine. 'What does that mean?' she whispered.

  He shrugged. 'We can't talk about it here,' he said.

  Desperation quickened her voice. 'You said I could stay for a few months. You said...'

  'I know what I said, Rachel. But it isn't working out the way I'd planned.'

  So, she thought, there it was. First the carrot, then the stick. This was where he'd been heading all along. You didn't just turn down a man like David Griffin. He'd proved that with Cassie.

  'No,' she said finally. 'I bet it hasn't.'

  'It hasn't. I expected...'

  She laughed unpleasantly. 'What now, David? Do I get showered with jewels and flowers? Or will it be something else? Do you just dangle Jamie over my head? I'm not Cassi
e—you can't use the same methods.'

  'What the hell are you talking about?'

  'Come on, David, I'm not that dumb. A little naive, maybe, but I saw what happened to Cassie. I understand.'

  His hands, like claws, shot out and grasped her shoulders. 'For God's sake, Rachel, Cassie has nothing to do with this!'

  'She has everything to do with it,' she said in a furious whisper.

  'You know something?' he growled, pulling her towards him. 'You're right—she does. And we're going to settle this once and for all. Or are you going to try running away from me again? You do it each time.'

  'If only Cassie had run,' she snapped. 'But no, she wouldn't have, not from a man like you. She never learned, no matter what I said. But I'm not like her— and you just can't handle that, can you? You...'

  David smiled grimly as her words trailed off into silence. 'So,' he said softly, 'you do know what she really was like.'

  Rachel shook her head in useless denial. 'No,' she said quickly, 'no, she was my baby sister. She... What are you doing?'

  'We're going somewhere with a little more privacy,' he said, catching her wrist in a grip of steel. 'Even New Yorkers can't resist a free show like this.'

  Rachel looked around her, suddenly aware of the ring of curious faces that surrounded them.

  'No,' she said. 'I...' But her protests were useless. 'David,' she panted, tripping along beside him, 'where are you taking me?'

  'I told you,' he said, pulling her after him. 'Somewhere where we can be alone. We're going to talk about Cassie.'

  'I know all I need to know.'

  'Yes,' he said grimly, 'I think you do. I'm just going to make sure you face it.'

  A doorway loomed before her, the doorman's startled face a blur.

  'Evening, Mr Griffin. Nice weather.

  David mumbled something as he propelled Rachel through an elegant lobby and into an elevator. Her eyes met those of the elevator operator and she flushed and looked away. When they reached the top floor, David stepped into the hall and tugged her after him.

  'Let go of me!' she demanded as the elevator door hissed shut.

  His hand dropped from her wrist. 'Get inside,' he said flatly as he unlocked the door before them. 'Get yourself comfortable and sit down.'

  Twilight shadows muted the colours of a large sitting-room. Rachel stood watching sullenly as David pulled off his jacket and tossed it on to a white brocade couch.

  'Brandy or cognac?' he demanded, stalking to a bar across the room.

  'I want to know where we are,' she said, rubbing her chafed wrist. 'You...you can't just kidnap somebody...'

  'Cognac,' he said, making the decision for her. He handed her a brandy glass with a dark liquid swirling in its crystal depths. 'Sit down, Rachel.'

  'Did you hear me? I want some answers!'

  'This is my apartment. I use it when I'm stuck in town. Any other questions?'

  'Yes,' she snapped. 'What are we doing here?'

  'I already told you that. We're going to talk about Cassie.'

  'We're not! She was...'

  'She was your stepsister. And you loved her—I know that. But I'm tired of having her stand between us.'

  Rachel tossed her head. 'There is no "us", David. I...' She took a hurried step back as he crossed the room and took the glass from her hand. 'Don't,' she said quickly, 'please...'

  His arms closed around her and his mouth came down on hers with a punishing ferocity. The kiss lasted for only a heartbeat, but it left her trembling and shaken.

  'Go on,' he growled, 'tell me again that there's no "us".' He waited while she stared helplessly into his eyes, then he smiled grimly. 'Sit down, Rachel.'

  She took the drink from him and moved slowly backwards until she felt the couch behind her.

  'What do you want from me?' she whispered as she sank to the cushion.

  'I want you to face the truth,' he said. 'I want you to admit that I didn't rape your stepsister...'

  'I never said you raped her, for God's sake!'

  '... and I didn't get her drunk or kidnap her or dazzle her with jewels, Rachel. We were together, yes, but...'

  Rachel held up her hand. 'Please,' she whispered, 'spare me the details.'

  'It didn't mean a damned thing,' he growled. 'It was just an encounter.'

  Her eyes closed in pain. 'Don't,' she begged. 'Don't make it worse than it is.'

  David sat on the couch beside her. 'What did she tell you, Rachel?' he asked softly. 'Did she say we were lovers? We weren't. We were just two people who came together one night.'

  'One night? You took her away for a weekend, David. You... you spent weeks trying to seduce-her, and then you... you turned your back on her when she told you she was pregnant.' Rachel's voice broke and she covered her face. 'I don't want to talk about it,' she said brokenly. 'I beg you...'

  She felt his hands close on hers. Gently, determinedly, he drew her hands from her face and clasped them in his.

  'Listen to me, Rachel,' he said slowly. 'There was no seduction. There wasn't even a weekend. We met at a party. She-was with someone else—but she came on to me anyway. She phoned me the next day. She asked me to lunch or dinner or something and I turned her down.'

  Rachel shook her head. 'No. You called her. You...'

  His fingers laced through hers. 'She kept calling my office. Finally I took her out for an evening. We had nothing to say to each other. We went to dinner, to the theatre, and I took her home and that was the end of it. Until almost two years ago—I was at a hotel on Martinique. I'd gone there on business and... well, it doesn't matter. Cassie was there with a man. I saw them in the bar, quarrelling about something. He left and she came to me. She was pretty drunk, Rachel—she said... she said some things... Anyway, I saw her to her room, went back to the bar for another drink, and then I called it a night. In the early hours of the morning I awakened and she was in my room, standing there beside my bed, naked, smiling at me.' He broke off and closed his eyes. 'I should have thrown her out, but she was beautiful, and exciting. And...'

  Rachel pulled her hands from his. 'No,' she whispered.

  'Yes,' he said flatly. 'She was gone when I woke in the morning, and I never saw her again until she came to my office and claimed to be carrying my child.'

  Rachel's face contorted with pain. 'Cassie was... was a free spirit, yes. But what you're describing—David, she wasn't like that. She...'

  'She was exactly like that.' He grasped her shoulders and forced her to face him. 'Stop lying to yourself, Rachel. She went from man to man—everybody knew it. And when she said she was pregnant—well, she wasn't the first woman who'd tried to pull something like that on a rich man. After all, there'd only been that one time... For all I know, it was just a lucky guess on her part.'

  Rachel shuddered. "No, it isn't true. She was spoiled, yes, I knew that. She always had been. And it was hard for her when our parents died. She was only fourteen...' She took a breath and her eyes sought David's. 'If you felt this way about her—if all this is true, then why... why did you suddenly come forward after...after...'

  'After she overdosed? I told you why. Because of Jamie. He had no one. I thought of my own childhood.' He laid his palm against her cheek and gently raised her face. 'It wasn't my intention to hurt your stepsister, Rachel,' he said softly. 'You must believe me.'

  Rachel swallowed, 'I... David, I'm so confused. I...I don't know what to think.'

  'I've told you the truth, Rachel. I can't do anything more than that. I'm not proud of my part in it, but I'm not the villain Cassie made me out to be. I want you to know that.'

  Bitter laughter welled in her throat. 'The worst of this is that I want to believe you.'

  David's golden eyes met hers. 'Do you?'

  Rachel nodded. 'I'm ashamed to admit it. But I...I'd rather think my stepsister was... that she... I'd rather believe that than think you used .her and then tossed her aside.'

  David's hands slid to her arms.. 'Rachel,' he said thickly
, 'Rachel…'

  She shook her head and drew back. 'No,' she said quickly, 'don't.'

  'Rachel, I...'

  She closed her eyes and her voice dropped to a whisper. 'Please,' she sighed, 'take me home.'

  'You must believe me,' he said softly.

  'I...I don't know what to believe.'

  He bent forward and his lips brushed hers in a light kiss. 'Yes,' he said in a husky whisper, 'yes, you do.'

  No, she thought later, watching him from under lowered lashes as the car sped through the night, no, she didn't know what to believe. She knew what she wanted to believe. And that wasn't necessarily the same thing at all.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  RACHEL sat in the kitchen the next morning, her hands locked around a cup of coffee that was growing cooler by the minute when the door swung open. She looked up and her eyes met David's.

  'Good morning,' he said softly.

  'Good morning,' she replied. 'There's fresh coffee. Would you like some?'

  He smiled as he sat down. 'Thanks, yes, I'd love some. Where's Emma?'

  Rachel arose and took a cup and saucer from the cabinet. 'She took Jamie for shoes. Now that he's begun walking, we decided it was time to put something substantial on his feet.' She filled the cup and put it on the table. 'I don't know how you take your coffee, David. With cream and sugar?'

  'Black, no sugar is fine.' He lifted the cup to his lips, watching her through the rising steam from the dark liquid. 'I'm surprised you didn't go with her.'

  A light flush rose to her cheeks as she sat down again. 'I am too,' she admitted with a. hesitant laugh. 'But I was up half the night...'

  'Yes, I was too. Rachel, I'm sorry for what happened. Maybe I shouldn't have told you those things. Maybe...'

  She shook her head. 'No, no, I'm glad you did. It makes things easier to understand.'

  'About Cassie?'

  She nodded. 'And about myself.' Her voice dropped to an embarrassed whisper. 'What I'm trying to say is that you aren't really the way I thought you'd be. Cassie painted you differently. And now that you've told me— now that you've told me how... what happened, I...'

  David reached across the table and laid his hand on hers. 'You believe me, then,' he said quietly.