The Bronzed Hawk

by Iris Johansen

  “Father Miguel said he had a wedding present for us,” Nick answered.

  “We can’t take a present from him,” Kelly protested. “He’s been far too generous already.”

  “To refuse his gift would be an insult,” Nick said. “We’ll accept it graciously, and I’ll arrange to send something of equal value as a thank-you present, once we get back to San Francisco.”

  “I guess that would be best,” Kelly agreed a trifle breathlessly, as she took a skip to keep up. “But where is he taking us?”

  “I think we’re there,” Nick said, as Father Miguel paused at the stoop of a small, shabby adobe house. He fumbled in his habit, drew out an old-fashioned brass key, unlocked the door, and threw it open before turning to Nick and handing him the key. The priest had a beaming smile on his cherubic face. He proceeded to issue another long-winded discourse, and then he made the sign of the cross and turned and walked quickly away in the direction of the chapel.

  More confused than ever, Kelly stared after him. She was barely aware of the gentle pressure of Nick’s arm as he urged her into the adobe house and shut the door. It was almost completely dark outside now, and it was so dim inside the adobe hut that very little of the interior was discernible.

  Nick left her side, strode a few feet away to what possibly could have been a table, and fumbled for a moment. Then there was a flare illuminating the darkness as he lit the white candle in its cheap black wrought-iron holder and replaced it on the table.

  “What is this all about, Nick?” Kelly asked, frowning uncertainly. “Where are we?”

  “We are now standing in the middle of Father Miguel’s wedding present,” Nick said wryly. “He arranged to have this house put at our disposal by one of his flock for our wedding night. Welcome to honeymoon hotel, Goldilocks!”

  SIX

  “YOU’VE GOT TO be kidding!” Kelly said in disbelief, shaking her head as if to clear it. Recalling the little ceremony at the door when Father Miguel handed Nick the key and blessed them, she had a sinking sensation that he wasn’t. “Couldn’t you talk him out of it?”

  Nick shook his head. “We discussed that, remember? This wedding night is the padre’s gift to us.” He smiled. “I suppose I’d better scratch the idea of sending the padre a similar gift from San Francisco.”

  “Very funny,” Kelly said caustically. “But that doesn’t solve the problem of us having to spend the night in this blasted nuptial chamber. What are we going to do?”

  Nick stretched, then strolled slowly over to where she stood by the door. His expression was tender as he gazed down at her troubled face. “I think you know the answer to that, Kelly,” he said quietly. “We’re going to make full use of Father Miguel’s little gift. I’m going to take you to bed and love you all through the night. If you’ll be honest with yourself, you’ll admit that it’s what we both want.”

  She inhaled sharply and experienced an odd sensation of profound relief that was dizzyingly bewildering. Why should she feel relief when she’d been fighting this sensual takeover since she had first met Nick O’Brien?

  She pulled her own gaze away from Nick’s tenderly seductive one. “Physically, perhaps,” she said nervously, moistening her lips. “But we both agree that we want nothing to do with an emotional commitment, and how can we keep the two from overlapping?”

  Her eyes fastened on the pulse in his throat. “It would be crazy to begin an affair. It would be the ultimate no-win situation, and you warned me about that, remember?”

  She could feel her own heart pounding as if it were trying to leap out of her body. He was not even touching her, but she could feel that honeycomb of breathless intimacy enfold them. Every nerve and muscle in her body was keyed up and waiting for him. She could hear her own voice arguing and protesting, but it was like those moments at the church when everything was curiously dreamlike. And all the time there was the waiting. Waiting for the words to be said. Waiting for the ritual of protest and rejection to be over. Waiting for the first chords of the music to start and the dance to begin.

  “But then we’ve already established that you’re addicted to that very thing,” Nick said thickly. “And God knows I want you so much that I don’t give a damn about possible fallout from our coming together tonight. Look at me, sweetheart.”

  Her eyes lifted slowly to meet his, and she knew that the waiting was almost over. That odd feeling of inevitable “rightness” was with her again, and it brought with it a curious serenity. In the flickering candlelight, his face looked both powerful and sensual, but there was the same gravity and subtle tension in his expression that she had noticed at the church.

  “I don’t want to seduce you,” he said hoarsely, the words coming out jerkily. “Though Lord knows I may give up and do it anyway if you don’t give in soon. I want you to come to me as freely and joyously as I come to you. Let me pleasure you, love.”

  Those last, beautifully old-fashioned words had such a graceful Edwardian dignity, Kelly thought. She could feel the last vestige of resistance flow out of her.

  She smiled tremulously. “I don’t know much about this,” she said faintly. “I’ve read all the books, of course, but you could probably have written one on the subject. I may disappoint you.”

  Nick exhaled almost explosively, his body’s tenseness relaxing infinitesimally. “No chance of that. Judging by the few samples I’ve had, your potential is out of sight, Goldilocks.” A warm smile illuminated his face. “Lord, I’m glad, Kelly!”

  “So am I,” she said simply. It was true. Now that the decision was made, the excitement and anticipation she was experiencing were mixed with a wild, singing happiness. There were no doubts and no regrets, only serene contentment. She wanted to give and receive all the gifts of physical pleasure that he had promised her. She wouldn’t worry about the pain of possible parting tomorrow. Tonight she was going to let Nick lead her into the realm of passion that before him she had never even wanted to experience.

  He reached out and pushed the white lace mantilla from her hair so that it fell about her shoulders. “I’m almost afraid to touch you,” he said ruefully. “I want you so much that I’m tempted to reach out and grab, and you’re a virgin, damn it!” He suddenly stepped back and drew a deep breath. “I’ve got to get out of here.” He shifted her gently aside and opened the door.

  “Where are you going?” Kelly cried, her eyes widening with shock and distress.

  He looked over his shoulder, his expression grim. “We were married tonight. I may not know a hell of a lot about virgins, but I do know that brides are supposed to be allowed a time of preparation while the husband takes the traditional smoke. I intend to make sure that you get everything that you’re entitled to.” He smiled wryly. “It’ll also give me a chance to cool off.”

  “But you don’t smoke!” Kelly wailed. She was feeling nervous and shy enough already without Nick leaving her to her own devices. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “So I’ll take a walk,” he said stubbornly. “We’re going to do this right, Kelly. Fifteen minutes.” The door closed behind him.

  Kelly stared at the closed door in exasperation. Who would have dreamed that suave, sophisticated Nick O’Brien would pull something as Victorian as this, for heaven’s sake? Now what was she supposed to do until he deigned to return after giving her “time”? She glanced restlessly about the room. It was really rather sweet. It evidently combined both dining and sleeping facilities. Besides the oak table there were four wooden chairs, the backs hand-carved decoratively in floral designs. Perhaps the owner of the cottage was a carpenter, she mused. The other finely carved furniture in the room seemed to bear out that premise. There was a chest by the white chenille-covered double bed that was really a work of art, and the bedposts were also carved with the same flowering petal and leaves design that was on the chairs. That carpenter had been really enamored of flowers, she thought. There was even a crudely painted picture of a lovely poinsettia painted on dried bark canvas on the
wall over the bed.

  She wandered over to take a better look at it. It was then that she noticed the white nightgown laying on the bed. She hadn’t seen it before because it was the same white as the chenille spread. It had obviously been laid out for her use, and she felt her throat tighten a little at the thoughtfulness of the gesture. A white nightgown for the bride. What a touching thing to do. She wondered if the woman who had been their witness was also their generous hostess.

  It took only a moment to slip out of Carmen’s clothes and into the nightgown. The thin cotton gauze was simple, with a boat neck and no sleeves at all. It fell from her shoulders in a loose, graceful line to the floor. It was too large for her, but it didn’t take away from the allure. The gauze was really shockingly thin. Kelly frowned uncertainly as she noticed that the pink of her nipples showed clearly through the material. She wondered how much more of her was revealed in that flickering candlelight. Well, she refused to worry about it. This was her wedding night, wasn’t it? She carefully folded Carmen’s clothes, then padded barefoot across the rough wooden floor to place them neatly on a chair by the table. She returned to sit on the side of the bed, her hands folded before her, to wait for Nick.

  It would probably be at least another five minutes before he came back, she thought crossly. Who had ever conceived the idiotic idea that a bride needed time to steel herself for an experience that she was utterly wild for? She was surprised that Nick would pay any attention to such an outmoded custom; he was probably the most eccentric, unconventional man she had ever met, she thought. So why had he insisted on this very proper and conventional ritual? He had wanted her as much as she had wanted him in that moment when he had walked out the door. The physical signs had been blatantly obvious, yet he had subdued them and walked away. Was it a sort of quixotic gift that he was giving her to show that he respected and cared about her feelings? There was no other explanation. A surge of happiness flooded through her at the realization. Oh, God, what a beautifully stupid thing to do! Would she ever know all the intricate facets behind that brilliant facade?

  They had become so close in the last few days that she’d absorbed an incredible amount of information about his character without really thinking about it. His intelligence went without saying, but she had also found him courageous, patient, and incredibly tolerant. Though some of their experiences had been terrifying, she realized to her amazement that she had never once really regretted her decision to come with Nick. In fact, she knew now that when he was no longer with her, the days would prove to be dull and zestless.

  Zestless? She shook her head, as the thoughts running through her head took on a frightening significance. She had always enjoyed life to the hilt, seeing each new day as an adventure. Now she was admitting to herself that because one Nick O’Brien might someday walk away, that he could turn that adventure into a desolate wasteland. How could the absence of one man make such a staggering difference?

  “I couldn’t wait any longer,” Nick said huskily. She hadn’t been aware of the door opening, but there he stood in the doorway. He was lithe and muscular, strong and virile. And the expression on his dark, lean face was beautifully taut and hungry. And then she knew the answer to all the questions that she had been asking herself.

  She leaped to her feet and grabbed at the bedpost to steady herself, for she was suddenly dizzy with the knowledge that had burst on her like an exploding nova.

  O’Brien closed the door behind him and then turned to look at her as she stood by the bed clutching the carved bedpost tightly, her whole body tense and poised as if to fly away. The flickering glow of the candle explicitly outlined her small figure in the sheer gauze gown. “Lord, you’re beautiful!”

  It was only after he had crossed the few yards separating them that he noticed the strange startled look in her wide green eyes. She was staring up at him as if he were a terrifying stranger.

  A frown darkened his face. “What’s wrong? God help you if you’ve changed your mind, Kelly. I’ve just about reached the end of my patience.”

  She shook her head, and her long lashes lowered to mask her eyes. She took one step forward and pressed herself to his lean, hard body, slipping her arms about his waist and nestling her head like a loving child against his chest. “No, I haven’t changed my mind,” she whispered, her words muffled.

  “Then what’s wrong?” he asked in exasperation. His arms went automatically around her and absently began rubbing her back through the thin cotton. “Why the hell were you looking at me like that?”

  She wanted to answer, Because I looked at you and suddenly realized that I love you. Because I’m scared to death thinking of life without you. Instead, she nestled deeper in his arms and said, “I guess you startled me when you came in. I wasn’t expecting you yet. And this gown isn’t exactly modest—perhaps I’m a little embarrassed.”

  “You have no need to be. You look like a very erotic Egyptian princess,” he said thickly, his hands sliding down to cup her buttocks and press her up to his aroused loins. “Very erotic.”

  Kelly gasped as she felt his hardness through the thinness of the gown. It was as if she were naked, she thought. Then her lips curved wryly as she realized that this was almost the case. “For a man with total recall, that simile is pretty far off the mark,” she said faintly, as his lips grazed her temple in a kiss as light as the brush of rose petals. “I don’t think there are any blond Egyptians.”

  His lips moved down to nibble delightfully at her earlobe. “There are, you know,” he said absently. “As a matter of fact, there’s a band of Bedouins—”

  He was abruptly silenced as she turned her head swiftly and closed his lips in a kiss of lingering sweetness. “Shut up,” she whispered. “I don’t give a damn about your blasted Bedouins.”

  He chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling. “You shouldn’t be so narrow-minded, love,” he said softly, as he nibbled at her lower lip. “There’s something you can learn from every culture. Remind me to tell you about some of the Bedouin’s unique sexual practices.” His lips parted hers, and his tongue began a hot, leisurely exploration that caused her body to arch against his and a low moan to start in her throat. His hands moved around to caress her breasts through the thin gauze, and the combination of his hard hands and the abrasiveness of the gauze aroused her even more. “On second thought, I’ll demonstrate them,” he said hoarsely, as his lips left hers. “But not until you graduate from the novice class, sweetheart.”

  He picked her up swiftly and laid her on the white chenille coverlet. He stood looking down at her, his face darkly intent as his hands unbuttoned his white linen shirt. His gaze traveled over her in frank enjoyment. “I love the way those perky pink nipples poke against that little bit of nothing as if they’re trying to get out,” he said teasingly. He shrugged off the shirt and threw it carelessly aside. “Let’s help them, shall we?” He sat down on the bed beside her and leaned down to kiss each pink bud lingeringly and then proceeded to lick and bite at the taut tips through the transparent material until she was clutching at his dark head and making whimpering sounds deep in her throat. He raised his head to examine his work, his face flushed and sensual and his aquamarine eyes glazed. “Yes, I think it’s definitely time we let them loose.”

  He sat her up gently, and it took only an instant to ease the gown up to her waist and pull it over her head. He tossed it on the floor with his shirt. Sitting on the side of the bed, he gazed at her for a long moment, his eyes committing every silky curve to memory.

  Kelly felt as if she were going up in flames as he slowly bent and sucked gently at one breast while he kneaded the other with a brisk, forceful motion. The tactile contrast was terribly arousing, and she ran her hands lovingly over the wiry pelt of hair on his chest, then to the smoothness of the muscles of his shoulders. “You feel so alive,” she whispered dreamily, closing her eyes to better enjoy the sensations that Nick’s lips and her own hands were telegraphing to her. She felt almost weak with pleasure. “I
never dreamed that anyone could feel so wonderful. Do all men feel this good?”

  Nick’s lips and hands suddenly left her breasts, and she opened her eyes in surprise. His forbidding expression made them open even wider. “Don’t even think about trying to find out, Goldilocks,” he said between clenched teeth. “Don’t even think about it!”

  “But I wasn’t—” Kelly started hurriedly.

  She didn’t have time to finish before Nick’s lips were crushing hers with a punishing ferocity, his hands tangling brutally in her curls to hold her head in place while he ravaged her mouth and tongue with almost savage passion. Then his hands ran probingly over her slim back down to her buttocks as if he wanted to brand each silky inch of her flesh with his stamp of possession.

  She pressed closer to him even as his lips left hers and moved down to the crazily beating tom-tom in the hollow of her throat. “If you’re wondering about your next man already, perhaps I’d better increase the tempo a bit to keep you interested,” he said as his hands worked swiftly at his belt. Kelly could feel his heart thundering beneath her hands along with a new muscular tension bred by the anger that she could recognize in his voice. “I was trying to exert a little control considering your inexperience, but I wouldn’t want to suffer later in comparison. So let’s forget about patience and tenderness and move on to more exciting things.”

  He stood, turned his back to her, and stripped off the rest of his clothes. When he joined her this time on the bed, he pushed her into a reclining position on her back and lay down beside her, one hand casually cupping a breast while the other played idly with the curls at her neck. His lips moved in tiny, teasing kisses over her face and throat while his thumb teased her nipple. Kelly shivered as Nick threw one leg over hers and his lips moved to her ear, his tongue darting teasingly in and out.

  “We’ve established how responsive your breasts are to loving,” Nick said, supporting himself on one elbow as he looked down at her. His blue eyes were still stormy, and she knew that he had not recovered from that unreasonable flash of jealousy. “Let’s see what else you like!”