by Lenore Wolfe
Mandy tried to look away. Her eyes wouldn’t obey. She stayed there, locked with his glowing ones as if she was his by his command. And only when he was ready—would he release her.
Mandy shook her head and whispered, “It was a long time ago.”
“Not good enough, Mandy. How old were you when you were taken?”
Mandy ignored the question. “It will have to be, Hawk. It’s all I’ve got to offer.”
“Woman, sometimes I want to--what do the white men say?--paddle your back-side.”
Mandy lifted her chin. “You do...” her voice trailed off when she realized what she was saying. Hawk swung up out of his bed, and Mandy jumped. “I’m sorry.” Not sounding the least bit repentant. “I do not take kindly to your threatening to paddle me.”
Hawk kept coming. At the last second Mandy decided to run for it, but his hand snaked out, and it was too late. The rabbit was snared—in her own trap.
“Let go of me!”
Hawk arched one damnable eyebrow.
“Okay,” she conceded, “so you would dare. But if you do... as the Goddess is my witness, I will not forget it. And I will get even...”
Relax.” Hawk pulled her close. “I’m not going to harm that pretty, little backside of yours.” He stopped and suddenly yanked her forward. “But if you ever endanger yourself...” He let his meaning sink in.
Mandy let out a breath, somewhat mollified. “Then, why did you say it?”
Hawk shrugged. “To see those eyes of yours spark.”
“Oh you—arrogant pig of a man.”
Hawk yanked her to his chest. “Take that back, Mandy!” Hawk bit out, his face mere inches from hers.
Mandy’s face was mutinous. Some things she had picked up from the white-man’s world, very well. A woman running a ranch was one of them. The other was letting her temper have free rein at the most inopportune times. And at those times, it got her in a whole lot of trouble.
This was one of them.
Hawk turned and headed for the bed, with Mandy in tow.
Mandy tried to pull back. “What are you doing?”
“You’re in the habit of losing your temper and saying whatever comes to your mind when you do so. I’m going to teach you some manners.”
She dug in her heels, now, in full panic. “How?” She’d been counting on Hawk to act like a warrior—not a gunman.
“Maybe I’ll show you a better use for all that fire,” he threatened.
“Hawk, the Lakota never spanked their children either!” she shrieked, mistaking his meaning. This wasn’t the warrior she had in mind.
Who was she kidding? She hadn’t been doing much thinking at all.
Hawk only sat on the bed, pulling her down over his lap. He ran his hands slowly up her back. She felt the heat from the fire already licking its way through her body, ready to consume everything in its path. Desperately, she looked around for an escape. The things Hawk did to her with one smoldering look—and with his hands...
“Say, you’re sorry, Mandy.”
“I am sorry,” Mandy whispered. “I do not know what came over me. I have never been so rude to anyone before.” She threw up a hand. “Well, except for McCandle, of course.” She sighed. “And the sheriff. Well, and at times, with Cord. And all the time with papa... But I am sorry, Hawk,” she whispered the last.
He sat her up and kissed her softly. “Now,” he kissed her again, “tell me about your time with the Lakota.”
Chapter Ten
A bellow of fury blasted from outside the window, causing Mandy and Hawk to jump apart. They were down on the first floor and had been, as usual now, arguing. They had, in fact, also wound up kissing, which had also become a pattern, forgetting that—most of the first floor was visible from the street.
A moment later the front door swung inward, slamming against the wall. McCandle stormed across the room and stood, taking in Mandy’s swollen lips and the blush steadily rising in her face. He did not move, his cold, green eyes just taking her in, his face impassive. Finally, he walked slowly around them. “This...” he indicated Hawk with a dismissive sweep of his hand. “You really want me to believe this is your mystery man. That this is the man you’ve been telling me for the past three years you’ve been waiting for,” if ice held a tone, McCandle’s voice held the inflection of ice, all the more chilling for the calm, clipped way he delivered each word, stopping in front of Mandy, and clearly ignoring the cold, wintery quietness that had swept over Hawk, “when you know you’re just wasting time. You will marry me. Why do you play these silly games?”
McCandle was either very brave, or a fool.
Mandy’s eyes flew wide and dropped to the hand Hawk had taken in a bone-crushing grip when he had heard McCandle’s words. As if in a trance, her eyes traveled up and collided with Hawk’s violent ones. Not understanding the anger she saw directed her way in the golden depths of his gaze, she mutely shook her head. “You were in my visions...” she stammered to Hawk.
“Your visions!” McCandle interrupted, sneering the words. “Witch, if you expect me to believe this is the man you have claimed, all this time, is coming home to marry you,” McCandle said, his voice laden with sarcasm, “well, my little beauty, play your games with some other fool. We both know when you’re done playing where you’ll be. So,” he waved at Hawk with another dismissive sweep of his hand, “stop wasting this man’s time. Tell him you’re done playing and get your sweet, little ass home, where you belong.”
Mandy was mute with rage. Before she could think it through, or get two words out, Ashley turned his attention on Hawk.
“So tell me.” He looked straight at Hawk. “You’re not really thinking of going along with her insane, little plan and marrying her, are you?” He clucked his tongue. “No, I’m sure you’re a wise man and see through the little witch’s games. Wise of you. You wouldn’t want her to get you killed,” he growled the last in deep, low tones.
Mandy gasped.
Hawk’s eyes traveled once again to McCandle’s hair, then back down to McCandle’s unusual, spring-green eyes with such hatred, the blond man unwittingly winced. Hawk pulled Mandy firmly to his side. He did not speak, his intent clear.
McCandle took a step back, his jaw pumping in fury, his hand on his gun-belt.
Hawk turned Mandy’s hand palm up, and stroked it. “You have threatened her, haven’t you?”
Mandy stared at his face. There was no trace of violence there, now. So why did the hairs stand up on the back of her neck? With the feel of slow motion, she looked over at McCandle. He looked as if he were strangling. Whether from fear, or anger, she couldn’t be sure.
McCandle looked beside himself. “Who the hell do you think you are, coming into this town, my town, claiming my future wife as your own?” His tone was quiet.
Too quiet.
Hawk grinned, his grip tightening. Mandy knew what it felt to be prey—to be captured, so predatory was his smile in all its violence.
“I am Hawk. And I’ve come,” he kissed Mandy’s fingers, “to claim,” he looked up and into McCandle’s eyes, his own gaze mesmerizing with what Mandy had only seen in a cougar’s eyes—right before it ripped its prey to pieces, “what’s mine.”
Mandy could only stare at Hawk.
McCandle gave a start at the double entendre. He stood there for a long moment, as though he were trying to comprehend what he’d just heard.
Without another word, he turned and stalked out.
Mandy stared after him until Hawk himself blocked her view. He was so close she had to tilt her head back, to look up. “I can explain,” she offered.
“Please do.”
“There was no fiancé,” she got out quickly, “just my visions. I lied. I was desperate. He had me backed against a wall, and he was insisting I marry him. I had to do something.”
“So you told him you already have a fiancé, and he believed you,” Hawk’s tone held obvious skepticism. He was again stroking the palm of her hand.
“Of course,” Hawk drawled. “And why all the secrecy?” His voice was so calm, Mandy’s heart picked up another notch. She gave him a nervous, little laugh, misunderstanding his meaning. “I just added a little mystery, you know, to drive him crazy.”
“No. I meant, why not tell me this sooner?”
Her eyes met his. “It hasn’t come up?” she tried. She knew he wasn’t going to like the next part, and she wished he’d let go of her hand. “I would tell him he would soon see,” she bit her lip and whispered, “and then it would be—too late.”
The irony of what she had done undid him. He didn’t know whether to laugh or shout. She couldn’t have planned it better if she’d tried.
McCandle would not take this lightly.
Could not take this lightly.
He had spent too much time trying to lure him here. McCandle had invested years in his revenge against him. All this time, Hawk had thought it was Jason McCandle—but Jason had, obviously, had a son soon after he had massacred all those people on the wagon train. Hawk could hardly reconcile this twist of fate. Why come after him? The Hawk? Did not McCandle already have it all? He had the ranch. He had Jason.
Now, after all this time, and all of the young McCandle’s careful planning, he had brought Hawk to town, only to learn that Hawk knew the woman he himself had planned to marry. Too find out the woman he planned to marry, the woman who had been putting him off all this time with her mystery man, had been putting him off—for Hawk.
The brother he wanted to kill.
McCandle had a grudge, and it was a grudge that had already cost untold lives.
Mandy was unwittingly fueling the fire.
Hawk stared down at Mandy. After a long moment, he gave her a tight smile. “Between you and me, Mandy love,” he cupped her face in his hands, “we’ve just declared war.”
Several hours later, Mandy stared at the patterns on the rug that lay over the wood-slat floor, remembering those words. She turned and went the other direction in her agitation. Before she had gone three steps, she turned back almost violently, and headed the other direction.
“I can’t believe he’s going along with this,” Mandy mumbled again, looking up to where her best friend had been watching her pace for the past hour. “Meg, whatever possessed us to start this mysterious fiancé farce?” She made a face as she stumbled over the word, and then nearly tripped over the carpet.
Just desserts.
“You started it.” Meg was only too happy to remind her. “And if you don’t quit pacing, you’re going to wear out the carpet. Besides, you’re giving me a headache.”
“Damn,” Mandy gave into uncharacteristic swearing. “Damn. Damn. Damn.”
A deep-throated growl from the doorway caused both women to jump. “That is the second time I’ve caught you swearing. Once more,” he strode forth and took hold of her arm, “and I’ll take soap to your mouth.”
Maybe her swearing was more characteristic than she realized. “You wouldn’t dare!” Mandy tried to yank her arm free.
“Oh, I think he would.” Meg laughed when Mandy glared at her. She added, “And I don’t think I’d mind anything that man wanted to do to me.”
Mandy rolled her eyes, knowing her friend was baiting her. “Thanks to that man, I no longer have a mysterious fiancé. I now have a real one! McCandle thinks he is my mysterious fiancé.” She poked him in the chest, forgetting, in her anger, that she was the one responsible for McCandle’s misconception. “You’re both the same. You come waltzing into town and say you’re going to marry me, and I’m just supposed to fall at your feet,” her voice rose steadily with each word. “You crook your finger, and I’m supposed to follow you anywhere.”
Too late, she saw the thunderous look in his golden-green gaze, and she tried to bolt. Damn the man was fast. She was going to have to get better at seeing that particular expression in time, or she was in deep trouble.
Hell! She was already in deep trouble.
In that instant, she was hauled against his brick-like chest. “By your own admission, you are now my woman.” His voice was husky.
Of all the nerve. He looked—victorious.
“Now you did it,” Meagan chimed in.
Unusual green eyes turned and glowered at her.
“I was just leaving,” she laughed, jumping to gather her things. “I think it’s time for the rest of the town to hear the good news, now that you’re up and about, don’t you?” She didn’t wait for a reply, just bolted out the door, her musical laughter floating back to them.
“No, Meg!” Mandy yelled, trying to break free of Hawk. “Meagan, wait!” This time, Mandy did beat on his chest. “Now look what you’ve done, you brute.”
Hawk held her in his tight embrace until she stood quietly, her eyes cast down. He hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her face up. Mandy closed her eyes. “You’re not a coward, Mandy.”
She couldn’t detect any anger in his voice. Gathering her courage, she peeked at him. Golden eyes glowered back at her. Mandy squeezed her eyes shut again. “Yes, I am,” she whispered.
She heard him chuckle. “No, you are not.”
Mandy shivered at the sound of his voice. “With you, I am.”
She felt Hawk’s deep laugh against her breast, felt him kiss her eyelids. Her pulse leaped through her veins.
“Hawk?” She peeked at him. “McCandle was more angry than I have ever seen him. He will do everything in his power to kill you.”
Hawk caught a stray curl and rubbed it between his fingers. “Men have tried before.”
She looked at him, honesty slipping through her lips. “I could not bear it if anything happened to you,” she looked down, “I mean—because of me.”
He raised her chin in his hand. “Would you cry for me, Mandy?” She could not hold the intensity she saw in depths of his golden-green eyes.
She could not bear to meet the pain in his gaze.
“That is not funny, Hawk!”
“Would you?” he demanded.
This time, she did not look away. The heartrending tenderness in his gaze made her knees buckle. His right arm tightened around her as if they were steel bands.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Hmmm, nice.” He caressed her face with his free hand.
“Nice?”
“Yeah,” he answered. “It’s just nice to know someone would be there who cared enough to cry.”
She swallowed a sob in her throat. “You have lost everyone, haven’t you, Hawk?”
He pressed his forehead against hers. “Not everyone. I have friends who are closer to me than blood.” At this reminder, he wondered when Kid would show. He brushed a hand against her cheek. “You have lost everyone, too.” He pulled away from her, leaving Mandy feeling hurt. “Well, at least you solved our little problem.”
She struggled to mask her disappointment. “What problem was that?”
“Now you’ll have a good reason for having me in the house.”
“I was going to put you in the bunkhouse,” she answered sweetly.
“Not on your life.” He walked out the door.
Mandy nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
It was hours later when he strolled back in.
Mandy looked up, an unguarded expression flickering through her eyes. “Hawk?”
Something deep and warm within him shifted, and he knew his life had been forever changed by this beautiful, enchanting woman. “It’s me, little one,” he answered softly, wanting for some indefinable reason to reassure her; to let her know he wasn’t about to abandon her, now he was finally with her.
Mandy stared at him. Her thoughts spun. Her emotions whirled. She fought to regain control of herself, not liking the
emotional vulnerability that she’d always been able to push aside—until he walked into her life. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered.
Hawk strode towards her. “Mandy, are you okay? You’re very pale.”
Mandy continued to stare at him. “I thought you left.” She gave a little shrug.
Hawk pulled her into the safety of his arms, his throat tightening, convulsively. “I won’t leave you, little one, I promise,” he said in the language of his people. So there was a soft, vulnerable woman beneath all the bravado. Somehow, that only made it more difficult for Hawk to hang on to what senses he had left. Her vulnerability was his vulnerability to her. The last of his defenses were stripped away.
But somehow, he’d have to protect her—from himself.
He leaned back, tilting her face up and stroking her dark-auburn hair. “We’ll find a way, Mandy, I promise you. We’ll beat McCandle. We’re in this together, all the way.”
She tried to turn away, but Hawk held her firmly. “Don’t, Mandy. Don’t hide your tears from me.”
Mandy looked up at him, her breath quickening as his lips kissed the path of her tears first, then softly kissed her mouth. “Your lips are soft, as if they were the first flowers of spring,” he whispered against her mouth. “They make a man want to breathe deep of their fragrant scent,” he kissed her again, “to kiss away the dew,” and again, “to taste their succulent sweetness.”
Mandy groaned as a fiery path burned its way through her body. She leaned into him, making it easier for him to deepen the kiss. Her hands moved over his shoulders, then up to lace themselves in his hair.
He broke free from her lips and kissed her face, then her eyes, then down her neck. “Mandy,” he breathed. “Sweet, sweet, Mandy. I want you.”
“As I want you,” she whispered back.
Doc chuckled from the doorway. “Then I guess it’s a good thing you two young folks are getting married.” He grinned, then sobered. “Sorry, Mandy,” he added, seeing her blush. “Didn’t mean to embarrass you,” but he continued to grin unabashedly at the couple.
