Witchchild. Carole Mortimer
because it had! This man wanted her, she could see that by the intensity of his gaze and the way he never took his eyes off her.
She didn’t want him. She found him fascinating to watch, like seeing a sleek animal in action, but she didn’t want him.
What if she repulsed him? Would it affect his decision concerning Laura and Hal? She hoped it wouldn’t actually come to a point where she had to make a choice.
‘Let’s go for a walk,’ she said impulsively, standing up.
His brows rose. ‘A walk?’ he echoed reluctantly.
She grinned. ‘Well, I realise that being rich you’re probably driven everywhere you want to go, but you surely haven’t forgotten that if you put one foot in front of the other you actually move forward? If you put one foot behind the other you can even—–’
‘Okay, Leonie,’ he said dryly, ‘I get the picture. It is the end of September,’ he reminded her hopefully.
‘Yes?’
‘The nights are getting colder—–’
‘Not that cold.’ She pulled him to his feet, moving away instantly as she sensed he was about to put his arms around her. She wasn’t afraid of him, she just didn’t want him in that way!
‘All right,’ he shrugged into the leather jacket he had draped over the chair when he arrived. ‘If the lady wants to walk, we’ll walk,’ he said wearily.
She doubted if Hawk Sinclair’s idea of a walk was to have six cats accompany him!
The cats’ idea of a walk round the garden was to ambush them every couple of steps, leaping out at them from behind bushes and tree-trunks, wrapping paws around their ankles until they were gently shaken off. Leonie and Hawk’s progress was severely handicapped by their mischievous antics.
Leonie’s mouth twitched with amusement as Hawk tried his best to hide his annoyance; he was obviously not used to having animals about him.
‘How did you ever end up with six cats?’ he finally burst out impatiently.
‘Strays,’ she supplied. ‘Every one of them. If a cat’s found wandering in the village and no one claims it then it’s brought here. We never turn them away.’
‘No dogs?’ he quirked dark brows.
She shook her head, her hair fiery-red in the last of the sun’s rays. ‘No dogs.’
‘Why not?’ He pointedly removed Rose, her pure white cat, from around his ankle.
She shrugged. ‘It wouldn’t be fair on them, neither Laura nor I have the time to walk them.’
His mouth tightened. ‘I’m sure your sister’s time is fully occupied with bedazzling Hal!’
She gave him a reproving look. ‘Laura is my image,’ she drawled. ‘And neither of us has the assets to dazzle anyone!’
He came to an abrupt halt at her side, looking down at her with dark grey eyes. ‘You don’t think so?’ he murmured softly.
She stiffened warily. ‘No.’
‘I’m dazzled,’ he stated quietly. ‘By you.’
Leonie gave a dismissive laugh. ‘Now look, Hawk—–’
‘I have,’ he said abruptly. ‘And I want it. Want you. Are you going to let me have you?’
Or what? Would he demand that Laura never see Hal again, would he smash the delicacy of their love because he had been denied what he wanted? She knew he was capable of doing exactly that, because although Hal might disregard his disapproval, Laura never would.
Could she make love with this man, with any man for such a reason? She would do anything to ensure Laura the happiness she hadn’t been able to find herself, even make love with a man who merely ‘wanted’ her for his own gratification. He would never be able to touch her emotionally, no man had been able to do that since her marriage to Michael. And the taking of her body couldn’t hurt her; it had been done too many times by Michael for one more time to matter!
He was going to be very disappointed if he thought making love to her would be more than that. Her only lover had been her husband, and his idea of lovemaking was to take his pleasure as quickly as possible, taking what he wanted like a thief in the night. If there were any other way to make love—and she was sure there had to be when so many people found the act addictive!—then she had never experienced it. And Hawk Sinclair looked as if he had experienced every pleasure that was available to him.
She drew in a nervous breath, her decision made. ‘We’d better go back to the house, the cats have no respect for privacy.’ She gave a nervous laugh. ‘Tulip once jumped on Michael’s back when—–’ She broke off abruptly. ‘Michael was my husband,’ she added awkwardly as Hawk began to chuckle at the image she had created.
‘So I gathered,’ he drawled. ‘Better make sure we close the bedroom door—the only scratch marks I want on my back tonight are yours!’
Leonie swallowed hard, wondering if she could go through with this after all. Hawk was making it obvious he expected some sort of grand performance from her in bed, and she knew she couldn’t give him that. But as they reached her bedroom she knew she had no choice, that it was too late to change her mind now. She was committed, she would see it through.
She trembled slightly as he slowly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing her bared breasts; Michael had never undressed her in this way, and he had never ever left the light burning beside the bed so that they could look at each other as they made love. Hawk was more than looking, he was touching too now!
Red-hot pleasure coursed through her, to remain a throbbing ache between her thighs. Hawk’s mouth was against her breast, his tongue lightly stroking the hardened nipple.
She whimpered low in her throat, that whimper turning to a groan as his hard mouth claimed hers, tasting her, his fingers wreaking havoc against her aroused breasts, cupping their firm weight as he lightly brushed the aching tip.
She didn’t want this man. Then why was she trembling with uncontrolled passion, knowing the first heady-sweet sensations of desire?
She gasped as his flesh seared hers, his shirt unbuttoned too now, her breasts crushed against the damp hardness of his chest. He wanted her so much a fine sheen of perspiration glistened on his body!
Her eyes widened apprehensively as he dropped to his knees in front of her, his gaze holding hers as he unfastened her denims and slowly slid the zip down, several inches of her flesh bare above the lace of her briefs. Air was sucked into her lungs as, breaking her gaze, he bent and his mouth moved surely over that exposed flesh. Tiny pinpricks of explosions spun through her body as he kissed her through the material of her denims, sliding them down her thighs to cast them aside, the barrier between her and his caressing lips even thinner now. The explosions grew almost out of control as she felt the probe of his tongue against her.
‘No!’ she cried protestingly.
He firmly removed her hand from his hair as she would have pulled him away. ‘But you like it,’ he said gruffly. ‘And God knows so do I!’
The dampness of lace clung to her, that sheer barrier no defence against his marauding tongue, and as his fingers probed beneath the lace Leonie felt her knees buckle as she fell to the floor beside him.
‘Lean back,’ he instructed huskily, bending his head as she obeyed, his mouth closing hotly on the nipple that had escaped his attention earlier, sucking strongly at the aching bud, easing some of her tension, but evoking another one between her thighs. As if he was aware of her discomfort his hand trailed to the valley between her thighs, discarding the briefs that hid her from him, covering that fiery mound with his palm as he explored the moist vulnerability between her legs, feeling her readiness for him, entering her to ease some of the aching desire.
She