Aim for the Heart

by Ingrid Weaver

  Hawk didn't respond. Jibril had thought it all through. The material, the equipment, the place to work, everything Hawk needed would be provided. There was only one element missing to ensure the scheme's success: Hawk's compliance.

  Jibril's smile slashed through his beard. "Since you said you were still months away from a breakthrough, I believe you will wish to waste no time getting started." He moved his gaze to Sarah. "And this is where you come in. You will provide our Hawkins with his motivation."

  Until now, Sarah had remained silent, but Hawk knew she had taken in everything. She had probably figured out where this was leading before he had.

  Sarah regarded Jibril unblinkingly. "You won't harm Hawk because you want him to work for you," she said. "But threatening me won't win his cooperation. As you said, I'm just his latest conquest. We mean nothing to each other. We had already said goodbye when your men took us."

  "That makes no difference," Jibril said easily. "One of Hawkins's many flaws is he wants to view himself as a hero. Whether he is through with you or not, he will act the gentleman."

  "You're projecting your own dishonesty on others," Sarah said. "You're incapable of seeing that Hawk is an honorable man. He has devoted his life to his work. No matter what happens to me, he won't permit a twisted bastard like you to profit from his genius."

  Jibril's eyes widened. He snapped his fingers and gave another command. Four guards grasped Hawk's arms while Ahmed stepped forward to place the muzzle of his gun beneath Sarah's chin.

  Hawk jerked against the guards' hold. "Let her go, Jibril. If you kill her I won't give you anything."

  "Kill her? No, I won't kill her yet, even though she tries to provoke me." Jibril stared at Sarah, then looked pointedly at the place where the gun was pressed to her throat. "How does it feel to have our positions reversed? Did you think I would forgive the affront I suffered when you dared to assault me?"

  Sarah sniffed. "I should have shot you when I had the chance."

  "You will soon wish that you had. The penalty under Moukim law would have been far quicker and more merciful."

  Hawk tasted bile in his throat. Moukim law?

  Jibril drew himself up with a swish of his robes. "In my country, if someone puts their hand on a member of the royal family, the punishment is to cut off the hand. You touched me with your hands, your arms and your legs."

  Oh, God. "No," Hawk rasped. "No!"

  Jibril looked at Hawk. "As I said, I do not plan to kill Captain Fox. That would not serve my purpose. Instead, I plan to carry out her sentence. She will lose one part of her body for each week you take to complete your work."

  The feelings that crashed over Hawk were too primitive to identify. Jibril's threat was so barbaric, it was unthinkable. Was he mad after all? How could a sane man contemplate such cruelty?

  Hawk lunged forward. Four men held his arms, but the force of his fury dragged them with him. He managed to get within a yard of Jibril before his arms were wrenched back in their sockets and he was slammed facefirst to the floor.

  Jibril hopped backward and waved his hand toward the guards. "Take them away. I believe my friend Hawkins has enough incentive to get started."

  * * *

  Sarah focused on the glass, concentrating on her grip. One finger at a time, she ensured her hold was solid. She could feel the cold from the water already seeping through the glass to her skin. If she waited much longer, the condensation would make the glass slippery. She was thirsty. She wanted a drink.

  But she knew that if she tried to lift the glass, her hand would shake too badly to get the water to her mouth.

  She yanked her hand back from the table and crossed her arms, squeezing farther into the cushions of the white armchair, hugging herself to keep the scream inside.

  Without a word Hawk knelt in front of her chair, picked up the glass and held it to her lips.

  It took every ounce of Sarah's energy to fight her terror. She had nothing left to fight him. She drank.

  He waited until she had emptied the glass, then set it on the table. "The bathroom is clear," he said. "Same as this room. Jibril's men didn't leave anything behind while we were out."

  Hawk had checked for bugs the way she had taught him as soon as they had been brought to their quarters. She should have thought of that herself. It was her responsibility. Doing a sweep of a room was standard procedure whenever the location had been left unguarded.

  She pressed her lips together. There was a sob rising with the scream, and she had to keep it down, too. She would be no good to Hawk if she fell apart.

  "Jibril's wrong, Sarah," Hawk said. "Your friends will find us."

  She thought about the men of Eagle Squadron. They would be starting their training mission tomorrow. The transport would already have left Fort Bragg. It might have passed directly above this ship, for all she knew. She had been eager to join them, to run away from Hawk and the feelings he stirred…

  But she couldn't run anywhere now. In a few weeks she might not be able to walk.

  "The Major told me about those men who consider themselves your brothers," Hawk said. "If they were blessed with even a fraction of your courage, they won't let anything stop them."

  Sarah remembered the tension on Redinger's face the last time she had seen him. He'd asked her whether anyone had approached Hawk about completing his work. Well, it seemed the Major had anticipated events correctly.

  Only, instead of offering money, Jibril was trading pieces of Sarah's body.

  She curled her hands into fists, tucking them against her ribs beneath her breasts. Which body part would they start with? Probably her hands. Severing a hand would cause the fewest medical complications. Individual fingers would be even better. Less loss of blood, no mobility issues, excellent likelihood of survival…

  Oh God, oh God, oh God. The army was the only life she knew, but how could she be a soldier with no hands? How could she pull a trigger or drive a jeep or work a radio? She wouldn't even be able to salute her superiors properly. What would the general say to such a breach in protocol?

  Sarah's teeth chattered. She knew very well what the general would say. The words were playing in her head in an endlessly repeating loop. Do your duty like a good little soldier.

  The first time she'd heard those words she'd been four years old and had been standing beside her mother's grave. Clods of earth had been falling on the coffin, making horrible, hollow thudding sounds. She had wailed. The general had ordered her not to cry. He'd brushed the dirt off their palms and had shown her how to salute instead.

  She had. She'd made him proud. All her life she'd done what she'd been taught, she'd buried the pain and kept the feelings inside just as he did, just as all the men did. That's why she understood the men of Eagle Squadron so well. She was as skilled as they were at locking the hurt inside her heart.

  This time the general's words weren't helping. They didn't make her want to straighten her spine or square her shoulders, they made her want to scream.

  She clamped her jaw shut to stop the noise of her clattering teeth and breathed in deeply through her nose. She couldn't let anyone see her like this. She was ashamed of her weakness. As the general always said, nobody would love a weakling.

  Hawk rose to his feet and crossed the room to take a blanket from the bed. He returned and spread it over her knees. "Try to get some rest."

  She shook her head. "Not yet. We have to plan our strategy."

  He folded the upper edge of the blanket around her shoulders, then braced his hands on the arms of her chair and leaned over her. "I know things don't look good right now, but once Interpol and Intelligence trace Weltzer to Jibril, Redinger will put together what happened. He'll figure out where to look. Your friends will find us," he said again. "I trust them."

  She could feel his gaze on her face. She didn't want to meet it. She was too close to the edge. She knew that if she saw sympathy in his eyes, the thread of her control would snap.

  It wasn't only h
er life at stake here, it was his, too. She had to hang on. "You're right, the odds of escaping on our own aren't good," she said. "Rescue is our only feasible option, but it could…take a while."

  "Sarah, I won't let them hurt you."

  "No matter what happens to me, you can't give Jibril what he wants."

  "Sarah—"

  "Think, Hawk. He's gone too far. He can't leave witnesses. He won't let you go free. The minute you complete your research and prove the fusion power technology works, your value to him will be gone. He'll execute you and…" And whatever's left of me, she thought. "He'll eliminate us both."

  "I know that."

  She could feel the warmth of his breath waft over her cheek. His scent surrounded her. It steadied her. "All right," she said. "It's good you understand. Then you'll have to stall for time. Pretend you're cooperating. No more confrontations."

  He didn't reply.

  She lifted her gaze. She looked at the fresh bruise that had been added to his cheek when Jibril's men had thrown him to the floor. "Hawk, what you did tonight was pointless. You shouldn't have gone for him."

  "I couldn't help it, Sarah. I wanted to kill him."

  He'd spoken softly. The mild tone held neither apology nor bravado. It was the quiet certainty of a man at his most dangerous.

  She had no doubt that he would have killed Jibril if he'd been able to reach him. The look on Hawk's face as he'd thrown himself forward had been so deadly it had made her shiver. She didn't know how he'd had the strength to drag four of the largest Moukim palace guard with him.

  But then, this wasn't the first time she had seen him fight for her. The night of Weltzer's attack, Hawk had acted just as fiercely. His ability hadn't come from training, it had come from instinct.

  Her gaze moved over his jaw. He still looked dangerous. He also looked very…male. The shadow of his beard stubble deepened the lines beside his mouth and hardened the angles of his face. His shoulders were tensed, straining the fabric of his shirt. She could make out the swell of his flexed muscles beneath his sleeves. His collar hung open at his throat as he leaned over her. She could see inside his shirt to the dark hair that sprinkled the muscles on his chest…

  Her breath hitched. Her lips parted. And she felt the precise moment when her fear transformed.

  Sarah knew what was happening. This is what the psych training cautioned against. It was a natural reaction, the body trading one primitive emotion for another. The racing pulse, the rapid breathing, the sweating palms…

  Fear or lust, the reactions were the same.

  She tightened her fists, trying to fight the awareness that was washing over her, but the movement pushed her knuckles into her breasts. Her nipples hardened so swiftly she gasped.

  She'd thought she'd understood the effects of hormones. She'd believed that was the main cause of her attraction to Hawk. But she'd never known anything like this.

  Her mouth was dry. She moistened her lips. She moved her knuckles again and shuddered at the sensation that stabbed through her flesh.

  "Sarah?"

  She looked at his mouth. She remembered the way he'd used his tongue on her breast to stroke and flick and soothe. She thought of the scrape of his teeth, the caress of cool air as he blew on the moisture he'd left on her skin.

  Yes, yes, it would be so easy. He was already so close. If she lifted her face she could bring her lips to his. She could lose herself in the power of his kiss. She would welcome his thrusts, his taste, the sounds he made.

  He could give her what she wanted. He still wanted her, didn't he?

  She moved her gaze back to his chest. The rhythm of his breathing was getting faster, the pace accelerating like hers. She lowered her gaze farther. He stood bent forward at the waist, his legs braced apart. His knuckles whitened where he gripped the arms of her chair. His long, strong, sensitive fingers were clenched on the upholstery.

  She looked at his hips. His shirttail had pulled out of his belt on one side. She remembered the feel of fine wool rubbing against her bare thighs when she'd been so eager for him the first time that she hadn't waited for him to finish undressing….

  Yes, oh, yes. She could see him swell. He did still want her. All she had to do was reach out and she would be able to trace the heavy length that pushed against the front of his pants. She took one hand from her breast. The blanket slid from her shoulders to her lap.

  "Sarah, did you believe what you told Jibril?"

  She began to extend her arm. What had she said? That they meant nothing to each other? "Hawk…"

  "You said I was an honorable man."

  "You are."

  "Then you'll understand why I'm not going to let you touch me."

  She stopped, her fingers less than an inch from his zipper. She bit her lip.

  "Every fiber of my body wants to accept the invitation I see in your eyes. And you can see for yourself I want you to put your hand exactly where it's heading." His voice was hoarse. He released his grip on the chair and straightened up. "But I know you'd regret this, Sarah. I respect you too much to take advantage of you."

  She snatched her hand back. She drew up her feet, wrapping her arms around her ankles, pressing her throbbing nipples to her thighs.

  Damn the man, he'd done it again.

  How did he know what she really wanted when she wouldn't even admit it to herself?

  Oh, he was honorable, all right. She should be grateful for his restraint. She had too much pride for this. She wasn't herself. If they had sex now she would be using him. It would be meaningless, nothing but proximity and adrenaline…

  But wasn't that what she'd claimed it had been the last time?

  Yet the night they had spent together hadn't been meaningless. It had been special. He had filled needs that were more than merely physical….

  If you'd only wanted sex, you would have had it before now.

  She waited until her breathing had steadied before she spoke. "I'm sorry I came on to you, Hawk."

  "I'm not. I think we needed to clear the air about this, too."

  "This? You mean lust? I never denied we had that much between us."

  "I'm not going to debate what we call it. Just because I agreed not to push you, that doesn't mean my desire for you has changed. I can't turn it off, no matter how much we tell ourselves we have to concentrate on surviving."

  She didn't know what to say. She wanted to apologize again, but she wasn't sure what for this time. She tightened her grip on her legs. Her breasts ached. "I was out of line."

  "You were being human. You feel better now, don't you?"

  She realized she did. Her fear was once more under control. Too bad she had to stir up all these other feelings to do it. "I'm fine."

  "You're an extraordinary woman, Sarah. I hope Jackson realized how fortunate he was to win your love."

  "It's getting late. We should both try to get some rest."

  He rubbed his face. His words were muffled by his hands. "Right. And you need your distance."

  You need your distance, especially from the people you love.

  Had he been right about that, too?

  She dropped her forehead to her knees. "It was over between us before we got here, Hawk," she said. "We have to be able to think objectively. I thought you understood that. Our lives will depend on it."

  He remained where he was for a while. She could feel his gaze. She could feel his tension. Finally he snatched the cushions from the chair beside hers and tossed them toward the door. "I'll sleep there. You can take the bed."

  She glanced at the bed. She hadn't considered their sleeping arrangements. She hadn't thought that far ahead.

  Hawk walked to the bathroom. He returned carrying more chair cushions. He arranged them in front of the door with the others to fashion a makeshift pallet.

  His intentions were plain. He planned to spend the night on the floor. He had placed the cushions across the doorway the same way she used to position her cot to block the door of their hotel ro
om, as if he intended to keep her from harm while he slept. The protective gesture was futile, yet it was very…Hawk.

  More feelings stirred. Sarah rose from the chair. She turned out the lights, undressed and got into the bed. "Hawk?"

  "What?"

  There were too many thoughts whirling in her head. She would have to sort them out later. She settled for the simplest one. "You were right. I would have regretted it. Thank you."

  He was silent for a while. "Sarah?"

  "Yes?"

  "Next time don't expect me to refuse."

  Chapter 12

  The lines on the screen were beginning to blur. Hawk pinched the bridge of his nose. At his motion, there was the creak of boot leather behind him. He fought to keep his expression impassive, but his frustration was pushing him close to the breaking point.

  He had never worked with someone looking over his shoulder before. That had been one of the benefits of being able to fund his own research. He hadn't been pressured to publish his findings or to produce results. He hadn't been answerable to anyone other than his own conscience.

  But for the past four days, everything he'd done had been scrutinized by Jibril's guards. At least two of them had positioned themselves behind him to watch each move he made. He didn't believe they understood what they were seeing—there was only a handful of scientists in the world who could. They were merely following orders.

  Jibril obviously didn't trust Hawk to do as he said. It wasn't enough that the bastard was keeping him a prisoner and threatening to mutilate an innocent woman.

  Hawk closed his hand into a fist. He pressed it to his forehead, breathing hard through his nose, trying to retain control over his helpless anger. He wouldn't be any good to Sarah if he lost it.