Witchchild. Carole Mortimer
be ready to go when you are.’
Hawk rose forcefully to his feet. ‘You can’t mean that!’ he exploded.
‘If you would rather wait until you’ve made arrangements for someone professional to take care of her she can stay on here for a while,’ Leonie offered. ‘She’s quite comfortable here. We have a nursery—–’
‘Quite com—–!’ Hawk echoed thunderously.
‘That’s your child you’re calmly discussing giving away!’
She looked at him with emotionless green eyes. ‘I’m not giving her away—she’s your daughter.’
Even though he had already been certain of that it still left him breathless to hear Holly called his daughter. He and Amy had always wanted other children besides Hal, but she had been killed before it became possible. At his age he had given up any idea of having other children, deciding he would bounce Hal’s children on his knee instead when the time came. Holly was an unexpected—and delightful!—gift to him; he couldn’t accept that Leonie didn’t feel the same way about her.
‘I have no intention of taking Holly away from you,’ he bit out between gritted teeth.
The uncertainty in her eyes was quickly masked. ‘You don’t?’ she enquired coolly.
‘Leonie, you almost died giving birth to her!’ He frustratedly tried to elicit some show of emotion from her, aching inside at the thought that he might have lost her for ever and not known about it until now.
She gave a vague smile. ‘I told you, I’m much better now.’
If anything she looked more ethereal this evening than she had earlier, the daylight hours seeming to have drained her of the small store of energy she had.
He had done this to her, had wanted her to the point of madness that night, and then tried to blame it all on her the next morning.
Because all those months ago she had got to him in a way that no other woman had, not even Amy. She had touched him with her humour, with her spirit, and lastly with the overwhelming capacity she had for passion. He could have stayed buried in her all night long, on one long continual high, never wanting to reach the point of release. God, he had stayed in her most of the night; it was only when morning came, the cold light of dawn revealing her duplicity to him, that he had forced himself to remember exactly who she was. He couldn’t allow himself to care for her!
When she had admitted to going to bed with him only as a means of placating him for Hal’s and Laura’s sake he had struck out in the only way he was able without actually exerting physical violence, and had watched as the softness drained out of her, as she too forgot the beauty of their lovemaking.
But his respite from the torture of reliving her softness in his arms had been only brief, never a day passing during the following months when he hadn’t imagined he could smell her, taste her on his lips, feel the very essence of her as her body melted into his. It had been a frustrating nine months, when no other woman had felt right in his arms, until eventually he had stopped even looking at other women, knowing it was this sprite he wanted. He had taken Sarah with him to any social functions he just couldn’t get out of, knowing he didn’t have to put on an act with her, that she just ignored his bad temper. Neither did she expect him to make love to her at the end of the evening, and get upset when he didn’t want to!
He had been hell to live with, making Sarah’s and Jake’s lives hell too. No wonder Jake was walking out on him! He should really be grateful that Sarah wasn’t considering leaving too!
But it was reaching Leonie that concerned him right now! ‘I was wrong that day nine months ago,’ he came down on his haunches beside her armchair. ‘I was angry with myself—–’
‘And me,’ she put in dryly.
‘Yes,’ he admitted with a sigh. ‘It never even occurred to me that you might feel you had to go to bed with me because it was what I wanted. Leonie, I don’t use women in that way,’ he shook his head.
‘I know,’ she nodded. ‘I think I knew that as soon as you began to make love to me.’
He took one of her hands in his, surprised at how cold it was considering the temperature inside and out. ‘Then why did you do it?’ he prompted softly.
She shrugged, releasing her hand with the minimum of fuss. ‘I thought it would anger you if I said no.’
He drew in a ragged breath. ‘That really was the only reason?’ He looked at her searchingly, hoping for some sign that she had felt even one tenth of the attraction that he had—that he still did! She had lost all her vitality, and the sparkle had gone from her eyes, but she was still Leonie, the woman he wanted to the point of obsession.
‘I enjoyed our lovemaking—–’
‘That’s something!’ He sighed his relief.
Her mouth twisted with dry humour. ‘Don’t worry, Hawk, you didn’t rape me that night.’
He had known that; her response had been complete and uninhibited.
‘But,’ she continued—and he felt a sinking sensation in his chest, ‘being shown the delights of the flesh rather than the abuses—because that’s what my marriage consisted of,’ she added hardly, ‘would make any woman feel pleasure,’ she finished dismissively.
Hawk rose slowly to his feet. Perhaps he should feel grateful that he was at least able to give her that. But he had come here earlier today knowing he wanted much more than a physical relationship from her. After months of fighting himself he had finally come here to admit he had been wrong, to ask Laura to please make Hal happy by marrying him, and to claim Leonie for his own. Instead he had jumped to a wrong assumption about Holly’s parentage, alienating himself from this woman yet again.
He didn’t know how to handle this situation any more, he was too close to it all. One thing he was sure of, Leonie cared nothing for him.
But once they were married—– Yes, that was the answer! She would be his wife, and Holly would be his daughter. And then he would be able to show her just how much he cared. He might even stop making a damned fool of himself every time they were together!
‘We can be married as soon as Hal arrives—–’
he began.
‘I’m not marrying you!’ Leonie cut in incredulously, staring at him with wide eyes. ‘I’m not going to marry anyone!’
His mouth tightened. ‘I’m not “anyone”, damn it, I’m the father of your child!’
She gave a weary sigh. ‘I’ve told you you can take Holly.’
Hawk’s hands clenched at his sides as he fought down the need he felt to pick her up and shake her; she looked as if she might disintegrate in front of his eyes if he so much as touched her. ‘I don’t just want Holly, I want you too—–’
‘Hawk,’ she cut in quietly, rising slowly to her feet, ‘I don’t want to marry you. I don’t ever want to be married again.’
He longed to put his arms about her, to take away the vulnerability that she couldn’t hide, no matter how valiantly she tried to do so. ‘It wouldn’t be like last time, Leonie,’ he assured her gently. ‘I’m nothing like Michael Spencer,’ he added hardly, wanting to crush the other man—slowly
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