Adam paused mid-stride and moved closer to Adrienne. Her crimson cape flickered in the soft breeze and Hawk felt as if it was taunting him. Where the hell had she gotten that cape?
"My lord?" Adam smiled sardonically. His large, tanned hand rose to cover Adrienne's where it rested on his arm.
"There are ninety-two horses I'm going to need shoes for. That's three hundred and sixty-eight shoes. Get on it. This minute."
"Certainly, my lord." Adam smiled gamely. "Heating up a forge is just what I had in mind."
Hawk's hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"Ninety-two! Hawk!" Olivia fanned her breasts. Her greedy attention had passed to the smithy and she was speculatively looking Adam over. Hawk watched as her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. "I knew you were wealthy, but that's a lot of prime flesh," she drawled, her eyes moving up and down, surveying the smithy from head to toe. She dragged her gaze away from Adam. "Perhaps you might spare a stud for me?" She looked sidewise at the Hawk beneath fluttery lashes.
"Definitely." Hawk sighed as he watched his wife's retreating form. "What do you think of our smithy, Olivia?" he asked cautiously.
* * * * *
What was she doing? Had she lost her mind? When Lydia had proposed that she seek out Adam and stroll the gardens with him, it had seemed like a good idea, although now Adrienne hadn't the faintest idea why.
Because Hawk made her angry, that's why. He'd dared think she was so stupid that he could pursue her and invite his mistress to visit all in the same day.
Once before she'd been just that stupid. Once, she might have convinced herself that Olivia was a troublemaking trespasser and that the Hawk was full of pristine intentions. Yes, once she would have believed that Eberhard really was going to the bathroom, leaving her in the main room of the party, while in fact he was stealing a quickie in the pool-house with a voluptuous socialite.
But she wasn't that woman anymore. She never would be again.
Hawk, the legendary seducer of women, had spent the afternoon trying to convince her that she was the only one he desired, but by dinner a new woman had appeared. An old flame. And he smiled at her. He strolled in the gardens with her. He forgot Adrienne's coffee for her. He was just one of those men who paid attention to whichever woman was in his face and willing.
Olivia was certainly willing.
And just why do you care, Adrienne?
I don't care. I just don't like being treated like a fool!
"The Hawk makes a fool of you," Adam said softly.
Adrienne smothered a gasp. The man seemed to read her very mind. Or it was so true that anyone could see it, even the smithy?
"You deserve far better, Beauty. I would gift you with anything you desired. Silks for your perfect body. All the coffee beans on Jamaica's Blue Mountain. Yet he gifts you with nothing."
"It doesn't matter. Means nothing to me." Adrienne shivered slightly within the cape Adam had draped about her shoulders.
"It should. You're the most exquisite woman I've encountered, winsome Beauty. I would give you everything. Anything. Name it. Command me. I will make it yours."
"Fidelity?" Adrienne shot back at the blacksmith. Somehow they had reached the forge, although Adrienne had no memory of having walked that far. Her feet felt oddly light and her head swam.
"Forever," the smithy purred, "and beyond."
"Truly?" Adrienne asked, then kicked herself. Why ask? Men lie. Words proved nothing. Eberhard Darrow Garrett had given her all the right words.
"Some men lie. But then some men are incapable of it. Do you lie, sweet Beauty? If I asked you for fidelity and pledged mine in return, would you give it? Could I trust your words?"
Of course, she thought. She had no problem with fidelity.
"I suspected as much," Adam said. "You're one of a kind, Beauty."
Was she answering him? She hadn't thought she was. Adrienne felt light-headed. "Where are the guards?" she murmured.
"You are in my realm. I am all the protection you will ever need."
"Who are you?" Adrienne asked.
Adam laughed at her question. "Come into my world, Beauty. Let me show you marvels to exceed your wildest dreams."
Adrienne turned a dreamy eye toward Dalkeith, but all she saw was a strange shimmer at the forest's edge—no lights of the castle. The sound of surf filled her ears, but that couldn't be. The ocean was at the west end of the bailey and she was at the north. Why couldn't she see the castle? "Where is the castle, Adam? Why can't I see Dalkeith anymore?" Her vision blurred and she was assailed by the uncanny sensation that somehow she was no longer even in Scotland. Wherever she was, it didn't feel like a good place to be.
"The veil grows thin," Adam purred. "Morar awaits you, lovely one."
She was lying beside him in cool sand with no understanding of how she'd managed to get there. Her mind was impossibly muddled. A sense of danger, inimical and ancient, gripped the pit of her stomach. This man… something about this man wasn't quite right.
"Who are you, really, Adam Black?" she insisted. Merely forming the words was a challenge, her tongue felt thick, her muscles rubbery.
Adam grinned. "You're closer than you think, Beauty."
"Who?" she insisted, fighting to retain control of her senses. The rich, dark scent of jasmine and sandalwood befuddled her mind.
"I am the sin siriche du, Beauty. I am the one for you."
"Are you from the twentieth century too?" she asked dizzily. "What's wrong with me? Why do I feel so strange?"
"Hush, Adrienne. Let me love you as you deserve. You are the only one for me…" Too late he realized his error.
The only one. The only one. Hawk had tried to make her believe the same thing. How was the smithy different? Judging from the feel of his hard arousal pressed against her thigh, not very. Just like Eberhard. Just like the Hawk.
Not again! Adrienne fought to steady her voice, to clear her head. "Release me, Adam."
"Never." Adam's powerful hands gripped her body. She could feel them unfasten her cape and slide over her breasts. Guiding her down to the silky sand, he rose above her, his face gilded amber by the fire. Sweat beaded at his brow and glistened just above his cruel and beautiful lips.
Adrienne puzzled at the illogic of sand beneath her body. She could see the red-gold glow of the fire. Where was she? On a beach or at the forge? She concluded foggily that it didn't matter, if he would only let her go. "Release me!" Her cry took all the strength she possessed.
Release her if she asks, fool, a shadow of a voice commanded.
Suddenly the night was still. The sound of surf faded into the chirping of crickets.
Adam's grip tightened painfully on Adrienne's shoulders.
Release her, Adam. She chooses was the bargain struck. Honor the pact—
But King Finnbheara—he dishonors us!
Fool! If you have not honor, you shall not roam freely in the future!
A bitter gust of breeze carried a furious sigh from Adam, and then she was standing nose to nose with the Hawk. His face was dark with fury.
The silken cape upon Adrienne's shoulders fluttered wildly, a flame of brilliant crimson.
"Where have you been?" Hawk demanded.
"Adam and I—" Adrienne began, then looked around. Adam was nowhere to be seen. Her mind was sharp and clear again; that dreamy fog was an unsavory and incomplete memory. She stood by the fire at the forge, but the flames had deteriorated to cold embers and the night was growing blacker by the minute. "I was just walking," she amended hastily, and ducked her head to avoid his penetrating gaze.
"Adrienne." Hawk groaned, gazing down at the pale cascade of hair that shielded her face from him. "Look at me." He reached for her chin, but she turned away.
"Stop it."
"Look at me," he repeated relentlessly.
"Don't," she pleaded. But he didn't listen. He gripped her waist and pulled her against the hard, male length of him.
Adrienne looked up, despite
her best intentions, into eyes of midnight and the chiseled face of a warrior. His bronzed, hard Viking's body promised cataclysmic passion.
"Lass, tell me it's not him. Say it. Give me the words. Even if you can't feel for me yet, tell me you have no real feeling for him and I will overlook all that has transpired." Groaning, he dropped his silky dark head forward against her, as if reveling in simply being close.
The clean, spicy scent of his hair, black as sin, stirred her senses in ways she couldn't comprehend.
"I feel for Adam." Her tongue felt thick. Even her body tried to defy her around this man. She forced herself to say cruel words to hurt him, and it hurt her to do it.
"Where did you get this cape?" he asked evenly, his hands sliding over the rippling fabric.
"Adam." Perhaps he hadn't heard her. He hadn't even so much as flinched.
Deftly, he unfastened the silver brooch at her neck with steady hands. No, she mused, he definitely hadn't heard her. Maybe she'd mumbled inaudibly.
Easily he slid the cape from her body. Gracefully, even.
She stood frozen in shock as his strong, bronzed hands shredded the cape into tatters. The expression on his face was hard and cold. Oh, he'd definitely heard her. How could she remain untouched by the barbaric and beautiful maelstrom of masculine fury that he was in his… jealousy?
Yes, jealousy.
Same as she'd felt about Olivia.
Dear God, what was happening to her?
* * *
CHAPTER 16
"why did you do that?" she gasped when she was able to speak.
Hawk placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head back, forcing her to meet his flinty gaze.
"I will tear from you anything Adam gives you. Remember that. If I find his body draped over yours, he will suffer the same fate." His eyes drifted meaningfully over a scrap of crimson silk stuck on the bark of tree, flapping like a dead thing in the breeze.
"Why?"
"Because I want you."
"You don't even know me!"
His mouth curved in a beautiful smile. "Oh, sweet lass, I know everything about you. I know you're a complex woman, full of dualities; you're innocent, yet tough; intelligent"—He cocked a teasing brow—"but lacking a smidge of common sense."
"I am not!" Adrienne scowled her protest.
He laughed huskily. "You have a wonderful sense of humor and you laugh often, but sometimes you're melancholy." He crowded her with his body and gazed down at her with heavy, hooded eyes. Adrienne tossed her head, trying vainly to dislodge his finger from beneath her chin and escape his penetrating gaze.
He cupped her face firmly with both hands. "You're a willful woman, and I'd like to be the focus of such a willful woman's desire. I'd like to have you yield your trust and loyalty to me as steadfastly as you withhold it. I'm a mature man, Adrienne. I will be patient while I woo you—but woo you, I will."
Adrienne swallowed hard. Damn him for his words!
Not only will I woo you, lass—I will win you completely, the Hawk added in the privacy of his heart. But he couldn't say that aloud, not yet. Not when she was staring at him, her lower lip trembling ever so slightly, but enough. Enough to give him hope. "I'm going to teach you that one lifetime isn't long enough for all the pleasure I can bring you, lass," he promised.
Adrienne closed her eyes, willing the image of him to hell and beyond. "Where's Olivia?" she asked, eyes closed.
"Fallen over a cliff, if the gods are smiling," Hawk replied dryly.
Adrienne opened her eyes and crinkled her nose, peering at him. Did she see the hint of a smile in his dark gaze? A passionate Hawk was deadly, but she was on guard against passion. A teasing Hawk might slip right through her defenses.
"Or if I'm really lucky and the gods are forgiving, she wandered into Adam's arms and he's been struck by the same thunderbolt that hit me when I saw you. Wouldn't that solve my problems?"
The corner of her mouth twitched.
"Oh, nay. I have it. She wandered into the forest and the fae mistook her for one of their own—the wicked banshee—and she is never to return."
Adrienne laughed and was immediately rewarded with one of the Hawk's devastating smiles.
He was melting her, disarming her defenses. And it felt good.
More seriously he said, "I instructed the guards to see to Olivia's return journey the moment her horses are rested enough to make the ride."
Adrienne's spirit elevated at his words.
"Adrienne." He sighed her name like a rich port, complex and sweet. "It's only you—"
"Stop!"
Abruptly his mood changed, lightened like quicksilver. "I want to take you somewhere. Come, lass. Give me this night to show you who I really am. That's all I ask."
Adrienne's mind shrieked a resounding no… but perhaps it wasn't too dangerous. Let me show you who I really am… how intriguing.
You mean besides beautiful beyond bearing?
But what harm could there be in conversation?
"What harm could there be in conversation, Adrienne?"
Adrienne blinked. He must have plucked the words right out of her mind.
"Look, Adrienne, the moon comes out, peeping from behind the rowans." The Hawk pointed, and her eyes followed. Down the muscled curve of his arm, over his strong hand to the shining moon beyond.
"Cool silver orb that guides the night's slumber," Hawk mused softly. "I wager you sleep little on such nights as this, lass, when a storm hovers, threatening to break through the fragile night. Do you feel it? As if the very air is charged with tension? A storm threatening has always stirred a restlessness in me."
Adrienne could feel herself weakening with each word, beguiled by his enchanting brogue.
"'Tis a restlessness I feel in you as well. Walk with me, Adrienne. You'll never sleep if you return to the castle now."
The Hawk stood, hand outstretched, gazing down at her with promises in his eyes. Not touching her, just waiting for her to choose, to commit—if only to walking with him. His breath was shallow and expectant. Her fingers twitched hesitantly beneath the heat of his smiling eyes—eyes with tiny lines at the outer corners. Eberhard hadn't had any wrinkles. She could never trust a man without a few wrinkles about his eyes. He hadn't lived and laughed enough if he didn't have a few faint creases. How had she failed to notice the fine lines of life on the Hawk's face?
"Give yourself this moment, lass," he breathed huskily. "Try."
Adrienne's hand slipped like a whisper into his and she felt him jerk at their contact. His ebony eyes flared, and she felt the exquisite sensation of his strong fingers closing over hers. He swayed forward and she felt the brush of his lips skim her cheek, an unspoken thank-you for the chance that pushed no further.
"I used to walk here when I was a boy…" He took her hand and steered her westward, away from the circle of rowans and the forest's edge.
Tell her about yourself, he thought. About the boy you used to be before you went away. About who you couldn't wait to be when you got back. But most especially—make her love you before she discovers who you were in between. Love still might not be enough to make her understand, but then at least there's a chance.
They talked and strolled while the Hawk wove his wild tales of boyhood impetuosity and bravery and she laughed into the gentle breeze. They sat atop the cliff's edge and tossed pebbles down into the surf, the crisp salt air tangling her silvery-blond mane with his raven silk. He showed her where he'd hung a hammock, just over the edge and down a man's length, and he made her laugh at how he used to hide there from Lydia. Lying on his back, his arms folded behind his head he would watch the sea and dream while his mother searched the bailey for hours, her lilting voice demanding he return.
Adrienne told him about the nuns and the sultry streets of New Orleans, even got him to say it like the locals did a time or two. N'Awlins. And he listened without chiding her for believing such fantasy. Whether he believed she was weaving tall tales or he somehow plac
ed it all in the context of the sixteenth century, she didn't know. All she did know was that he listened to her like a man had never listened before. So she told him about Marie Leveau the voodoo queen and Jean Laffite the famous pirate, and the great plantations that once stood with their magnificent sprawling houses and the scents and sounds of Bourbon Street. When she spoke of the jazz, the lover's croon of a deep sax, the trumpeting blare of the brass horns, her eyes grew deep with mystery and sensual arousal, and he found he could almost believe she was from another time. Surely from another land.
"Kiss me, lass."
"I… shouldn't."
Her breathless, husky murmur enchanted him. "Is it so bad then?"
Adrienne drew a deep breath. She stood up, moved away from him, and tipped her head back to study the sky. The night had cleared; the cloud cover had furled out to sea and the storm had passed without breaking. The sound of the surf ebbed and flowed below them in unfaltering rhythm. Stars pierced the mantle of night and Adrienne tried to locate the Big Dipper when suddenly a small, bright star seemed to shiver, then plummeted from the sky.
"Look!" she said excitedly. "A falling star!"
Hawk surged to his feet. "Whatever you do, don't wish, lass."
She turned a pure, glowing smile his way, and it dazzled him so completely that for a moment he couldn't think. "Why ever not, Hawk?"
"They come true," he finally managed.
Her gaze fled back to the falling star. Adrienne held her breath and wished with all her might. Please let something very good happen to me soon. Please! Unable to say the words even beneath her breath, she willed her vision to the stars.
He sighed. "What did you wish?"
"You can't tell," Adrienne informed him pertly. "It's against the rules."
Hawk cocked a questioning brow. "What rules, lass?"
"You know—the wishing-on-a-star rules," she informed him in a tone that said everybody knew those rules. "So what did you wish that came true?"
Hawk snorted. "You just told me I'm not allowed to tell."
Adrienne rolled her eyes and made an impatient sound. "That's only until they come true. Then you can tell anyone you want." Her eyes blazed with curiosity. "So—out with it." She pushed lightly at his chest.
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