Her eyes lifted and met his. 'I want to,' she admitted.
His voice was gentle. 'You loved your stepsister very much, didn't you?'
Rachel nodded again. 'Yes, I did. I told you how I felt when our parents married—it was as if someone had given me a live doll to fuss over. And Cassie loved being fussed over. She was so pretty, David, with her blonde hair and blue eyes... And then, when our folks died in that accident, I became responsible for her.'
'That must have been difficult. You were really only a child yourself.'
She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. 'It was OK for a while. I took a secretarial job and there was some insurance money to keep us going. But Cassie... Cassie got wilder and wilder. I couldn't handle her. When she was eighteen, she moved out.'
David's hand clasped hers more tightly. 'You don't have to tell me all this if it upsets you,' he said quietly.
'No, I want to tell you. I... I don't want you to think badly of Cassie, David. It wasn't her fault that she was... well, that she was the way she was. Sometimes I think she was just too beautiful for her own good. She...'
'Not as beautiful as you, Rachel.'
She looked up at him in surprise, the colour rising to her cheeks again. 'Me? I'm not beautiful.'
He smiled at her. 'Yes, you are. There's an innocence about you, an openness... Even in that horrible costume you wore at the Golden Rooster, you looked like a little girl.'
'Not too little, David. There are laws against child molesting.' Rachel pulled her hand from David's and stumbled to her feet. Vanessa Walters lounged in the doorway, a brilliant smile on her face. 'I hope I didn't interrupt anything,' she said. 'You did ask me to bring the outline for your speech this morning, didn't you?'
David got to his feet and shook his head. 'I didn't expect you this early, Vanessa. Would you like some coffee?'
The woman smiled. 'That's a lovely idea. I take sugar in mine,' she said to Rachel. 'And a piece of toast, if you have it.'
Her presumptuousness made Rachel flush, but David seemed unaware of the byplay. He pulled his chair closer to Vanessa's and peered over her shoulder at a sheaf of papers she'd spread on the table. Rachel poured the coffee and buttered the toast while the two murmured together. An unreasonable irritation mounted within her. She wiped her hands on a towel and tossed it on the counter.
'I'll be upstairs.'
David looked up in surprise. 'Don't go, Rachel. I'm sorry we were so rude, but this had to be taken care of this morning.'
'Let her go, David. She'd be bored to tears.' Vanessa looked at Rachel and smiled politely. 'You probably have things to do, Rachel. There are so many things to keep one busy around a baby, aren't there? Nappies to fold and toys to put away...'
Rachel bit back her anger. 'That's true,' she said evenly. 'Nothing as important as business.'
The woman smiled. 'This is even more important. Didn't Mr Griffin tell you? He's making a speech this evening.'
'It's not a speech, Vanessa,' David said impatiently. 'I'm just accepting an award.'
Vanessa patted his hand. 'Why so modest, David? Surely your son's companion is entitled to know that the Community Leadership Program has named you man of the year.'
David shrugged. 'It's flattering, but it's not as important as you make it sound.'
The Walters woman clucked her tongue. 'It's as important as we choose to make it. There'll be press coverage—I've even had promises from some television people. Public image is vital, David—you know that.'
He ran his hand through his hair, raking it back from his forehead. 'Yes, I know. But...'
'David, please—trust me. You've got years of sharp edges to smooth away before people start thinking of you as a man instead of a corporate raider. You've taken the first steps—don't get impatient now. Everything's on schedule. By next month...'
David pushed back his chair and got to his feet. 'You were right,' he said sharply. 'I'm afraid we have been boring Rachel with all this talk. Will you be at the awards presentation tonight, Vanessa?'
Vanessa's eyes slid to Rachel. 'Of course, if you want me to.'
He nodded. 'I'll see you then.'
She turned a dazzling smile on Rachel. 'You can watch Mr Griffin's acceptance speech on the eleven o'clock news. You do stay up that late, don't you?'
Rachel gritted her teeth. 'Oh, yes,' she said sweetly. 'My coach doesn't turn into a pumpkin until midnight.'
She turned on her heel and stalked out of the kitchen. Vanessa's laughter, mingled with David's low, irritated voice, echoed behind her.
'Rachel, wait...' He caught up with her at the foot of the steps and grasped her by the shoulders. 'She didn't mean that the way it sounded.'
'Yes, she did,' she said with resignation. 'Not that it matters—I don't like her any more than she likes me. She thinks I'm naive...'
He smiled at her. 'She thinks you're an innocent. It's a quality she doesn't understand.' He reached out and smoothed an errant strand of hair from her cheek, his hand lingering against her skin. 'Are you usually as old-fashioned as you seem?' he asked softly. 'Sometimes I think you've stepped out of another age.'
His eyes were burning with golden intensity. He moved closer to her and she ran her tongue nervously across her lips.
'I'm not that old-fashioned,' she said with forced lightness. 'I can work an electric can-opener and a television set...'
'Has there ever been someone special in your life?'
Her eyes lifted to his. 'No,' she said.
His smile seemed to burn into her soul. 'I'm glad.'
The air around them was charged, thick with tension that made it almost unbreatheable. Rachel moved back a step.
'Don't you... don't you have to get back to Vanessa?'
He smiled and shook his head. 'She's gone. She asked me to give you her apology.'
Rachel made a face. 'I bet!'
'She did,' he insisted, and then he spread his hands and grinned. 'Come on, Rachel. "To err is human, to forgive, divine." Isn't that what Grandma would have said?'
She laughed softly. 'Oh, she'd have loved you, David. You're just like she was. You have an answer for everything.'
His fingers kneaded her shoulders gently. 'Not everything. I'm still waiting to hear why you didn't go with Emma today.'
The confusion that had tormented Rachel in the dark hours before dawn was mirrored in her eyes. She had told herself she wanted to be alone with him so that she could talk to him about Cassie, but now that he was near her, she knew that was only part of the truth. What she really wanted was to be alone with him, to talk and laugh without memories of Cassie punishing her. But her stepsister's ghost had been replaced by a flesh-and-blood intruder. She took a deep breath.
'I just wanted the chance to talk to you, I guess. I... I wanted to tell you that... that...'
She swallowed drily. David put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to his.
'That what?' he prompted softly.
Rachel's heart thudded against her ribs. She drew a breath again and gathered her courage.
'I wanted to tell you that I'm not sorry you and Cassie... If you hadn't, I wouldn't have Jamie. And... and...'
'And we wouldn't have met,' he said, smiling into her eyes. 'Both those possibilities occurred to me too.' His fingers curled around her chin and his golden gaze darkened. 'Rachel?' His voice was soft.
'Yes?' she murmured.
'Can you ride a horse? Do you know how?'
Her eyes widened in astonishment. 'Can I what? Yes, I can ride. Well, I used to, a long time ago, when I could afford it... David, what are you doing?' she demanded as he propelled her out of the doorway. 'Where are you taking me? I have to fold Jamie's laundry.'
'Aha! Vanessa was right—you do lead an exciting life.' He feinted to the left and laughed as she aimed a punch at his ribs. 'Leave the laundry for Emma,' he said. 'This is better, believe me.'
'This is better?' Rachel asked breathlessly half an hour later. She was seated on a roan mare,
watching David warily as he sat on the black stallion, Isis balanced on his leather-gloved fist. 'Better than what? David, I don't really like that hawk...'
'You don't know her,' he said softly. 'Give yourself a chance, Rachel. Give her a chance. That's fair, isn't it?'
Rachel sighed. 'Yes,' she admitted, 'I guess so. But I don't want to watch her kill something.'
'She won't. She's accustomed to being hand-fed after a flight. I don't fly her for the kill—that's not what falconry's all about. I fly her to watch her take the sky, to share that moment of freedom with her.' He stopped in mid-sentence and gave Rachel an embarrassed grin. 'Instead of telling you, why don't I just show you?' He looked around them and drew in on the stallion's reins. 'This is a good spot,' he added as he dismounted.
Rachel slid from the roan's back. 'Shall I tie Abdullah to a tree for you?' she asked.
David shook his head. 'He won't wander. But maybe you'd better loop the roan's reins around something— that's it. No sudden moves, now, Rachel. Isis startles easily.' He bent his head towards the hawk and whispered softly to her.
'What are you telling her?'
He grinned. 'I told her to put on the performance of her life. I reminded her that the reputation of the ancient and honourable sport of falconry is hers to defend today. I told her...'
'All right, all right, I get the idea,' laughed Rachel. 'You want me to change my mind about hawks. Well, I'll watch whatever it is she does. But I'm not promising anything. She's a predator, David. A killer. A...'
'Watch!' he said.
He bent his head to the hawk, his teeth flashing whitely as he bit open the laces of the hood. Suddenly Isis was in the air, her powerful wings beating rapidly as she climbed into the sky. David stood watching her, his head thrown back, a rapturous smile on his face as he followed her flight.
'Just look at her,' he whispered. 'She hasn't flown in days—and she loves to take to the sky. She'll climb and climb...'
The hawk was high overhead, a dark, streamlined body sailing over the meadow. Rachel could still see the muscular beat of her wings. Suddenly a thin cry echoed on the stillness, and goosebumps rose on Rachel's arms.
'What was that?' she whispered.
David looked at her and smiled. 'That was Isis,' he said. 'She always gives voice when she's happy.'
Rachel shuddered. 'That eerie sound means she's happy?'
He smiled and slid a comforting arm around her waist. 'It's a marvellous sound. It means she's free.. When I first got her—when I was manning her, teaching her not to be afraid of me—she never gave voice. But when I finally flew her—hell, I still remember that day, Rachel. 1 took her out here and talked to her and stroked her and told her how much she meant to me, and then— and then I took off her hood and set her free.'
Her eyes searched his face. 'And she came back,' she murmured.
He nodded. 'She came back. What a hell of a moment that was! I mean, there's always that chance the first time you fly a hawk...'
'How did you—what did you call it?—man her?'
He smiled. 'I spent every free minute with her,' he said softly, the memory of that time bright in his eyes.. 'I fed her by hand. And once she was used to me, I carried her everywhere on my fist. It took weeks, but eventually she trusted me.'
A slow smile tilted at the corners of Rachel's mouth. 'I never thought of it that way before,' she said. 'The hawk being afraid of you, I mean. I always think of hawks as aloof and powerful.'
David's arm tightened around her. 'Something can be aloof and powerful and still have needs, Rachel.'
She drew in her breath and looked up at him. The sun was on his face, softly blurring his rugged features. When she spoke, her words were a whisper on the still air.
'I... I know what hawks need,' she said. 'They need freedom.'
His arms encircled her. 'Isis came back to me,' he murmured, drawing her towards him. 'Can you imagine how it felt to see her dropping out of the sky, to know she'd chosen to be my captive instead of freedom?'
The blood felt thick in Rachel's veins. 'Yes,' she whispered. 'I can. It must have been wonderful.'
'Rachel...' There was only the single word, but it burned its way into her heart. 'Rachel,' he said again, his arms tightening around her, 'look at me.'
The whispered words were a command she could not deny. Slowly she raised her eyes to his and the breath caught in her throat. His golden eyes smouldered in his dark face, glowing with a desire so urgent that it made her tremble.
'David, no...'
Her plea was lost against his lips as his mouth covered hers. She gasped and tried to twist away from him, but his hands moved to her face, cupping it in a rough embrace and tilting her head back as he bent to her again. The touch of his mouth was even sweeter than she remembered, and she swayed within his arms as his kiss branded her with his need. But it was her need too, and she moaned softly as passion leaped within her, surging hotly through her body with every heartbeat. David's arms closed around her again, moulding her body to his. Her mouth slackened beneath the onslaught of his, opening willingly to his heated plunder, and his kiss changed, deepened, became something more intimate, more demanding than any she had ever dreamed possible. This was where she'd always been destined to be, she thought suddenly, in David Griffin's arms, warm and wanted and needed...
Suddenly he picked her up and cradled her to him in arms that crushed her against the muscles of his chest and while she kissed him, while her mouth opened to the sweetness of his tongue, he strode across the whispering grass to the shadow of a lone pine tree that stood like a dark sentinel in the centre of the meadow.
'Rachel,' he muttered thickly.
She closed her eyes as he set her slowly on her feet. Sensation overwhelmed her as she slid slowly down the length of his body, the straining hardness of him telling her that he wanted her as she wanted him. Cassie, she thought suddenly, but her mind was closed to her stepsister's name. Cassie had lied—she had lied before. There was nothing new in that. David was nothing like the man she'd described. He was... he was...
She gasped as he drew her jacket from her and slipped her hands under her blouse. His palms and fingertips were hot and rough against her flesh, arousing new waves of sensation. Her life had been so empty, so barren until this moment. How could she tell him that? How could she tell him what happiness he had brought her? How...
'Kak, kak, kak...!'
The hawk's cry was wild and exciting high above them. Rachel drew back in David's arms, her eyes focusing softly on his face.
'Isis?' she whispered.
He nodded, his face flushed, his eyes as hooded and dark as the hawk's had ever seemed.
'Yes,' he said thickly, 'she must have seen something...'
Leaning back in his embrace, she shaded her eyes against the sun as she stared into the sky. The hawk was overhead, her wings beating mightily. A dark speck flew beneath her.
'There she is,' Rachel began, then she drew in her breath. 'No,' she murmured, 'no...oh God, don't...'
The hawk fell on the dark object flying below her. The powerful wings beat once, twice, then Isis gripped the smaller bird, binding it to her in her sharp talons and bringing it to the ground. Rachel buried her face against David's chest.
'She killed it!' she whispered.
David drew her closer. 'Rachel, sweet,' he murmured, 'it happens sometimes. She's a hawk, she only does what she must to survive.'
Rachel shook her head. 'I knew, David. But that poor bird—it never had a chance.'
His hand cupped her head. She could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear.
'Nothing has a chance against a hawk, Rachel. That's just the way it is.'
The words and the truth in them beat against her heart like hammer blows. Dear God, she thought, what was happening to her? She drew a shuddering breath and stepped free of his arms.
'I... I'm going back to the house,' she murmured.
David smiled as he touched his finger to her mou
th, swollen from his kisses. 'AH right, Rachel. Let me call Isis in and... Rachel! Rachel!' His voice rose, but she ignored it, catching up her horse's reins and swinging into the saddle. 'Rachel, what the hell are you doing?'
She kicked the horse into a trot. 'What I should have done days ago,' she said, the answer more for herself than for him. 'I'm leaving.'
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE STABLEMAN'S face was a puzzled blur as Rachel slid from the saddle. 'Is everything all right, miss?' he asked, peering past her.
'Everything's fine,' she said, tossing him the reins. 'Mr Griffin will be along in a few minutes.'
The house was a still, cold citadel in the bright sunlight. It was best to do this before Emma got back, she thought, hurrying to her room, before she saw Jamie again.
Don't think about Jamie, she told herself while she pulled her suitcase from the closet. Just do what has to be done. All she'd managed these past weeks was to put off what had been inevitable ever since the night David had walked into her life.
Blindly she yanked a handful of dresses from the closet and tossed them into the suitcase. Jamie was David's son. She couldn't fight his right to the child, but she could fight what he was doing to her. Each time he touched her, she trembled with a desire so intense that it frightened her. She had never known anything like it before. The Snow Queen, Cassie had called her once, and it was true, she had never understood the flame of passion that other women felt or known the urgent need to caress and be caressed until now, and she feared her own confusion as much as she feared David Griffin.
Her face coloured as she remembered the way she had melted in David's arms only moments before. She could still feel the touch of his hands on her body, smell the maleness of him, taste his sweet mouth. Oh, God, she thought, how close she'd come to giving herself to him. It would have been a betrayal of Cassie's memory... And yet he wasn't the sort of man Cassie had said he was. He wasn't. He...
The brutal image of the goshawk swooping earthward, its innocent prey clutched to its breast, intruded. 'Hawks do what they must to survive,' David had said as if that could explain the agony of the victim and the pleasure of the hawk.
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