Hawk's Haven (11 page)

"Would you want me to risk my life on that hour plus ride back to the city at this time of night?" he asked.

She tilted her head to one side.

"Never mind let me rephrase that..."

Gillian grew tired of playing word games. "What do you want from me?"

  "I don't think you're ready to know.” His voice was low and intense, sending a tingling shiver along her spine. He ran his gaze up the full length of her body and smiled hopefully.  "For now, I'd settle for the couch."

"Why don't you go to your father's house?"

"And wake him up at this hour of the night?"

He knew how to play on her sympathies and it irritated her that he read her so well. "But you don't mind ruining my sleep, do you? I should let you sleep outside all night.”

"But you won't," he said with unshakable confidence.

She turned and headed toward the house. "Don't get too sure of yourself Counselor.”

He caught up with her on the front landing. She opened the door and motioned for him to enter. He bowed his head in silent thanks but his told-you-so grin mocked her. She’d all the backbone of a marshmallow.

Gillian fetched a blanket and pillow from the linen closet. She tossed them to Hawk to let him make up his own bed. "In the future, if you are going to be here during the week, make other sleeping arrangements."

"What? No good night kiss?" he asked.

She leaned against the wall and folded her arms across her chest. "You're really pushing it, Mr. Carter."

"I know. But I've got nothing to lose.”  He pulled the blanket across his lap and smiled up at her. "You already hate me."

"I wish that were true," she murmured without thinking.

Question flashed in his dark eyes. "Gillian..."

"Good night.” She hit the light switch and ended the conversation rather than admit the truth. Hawk had the same talent for manipulating emotions as her father. That much power she would never cede to anyone again.

* * * *

Hawk peered out through half closed eyes at the vision in the kitchen. Although he’d been awake for some time, he remained silent and observed Gillian's morning routine. She was livelier and her mood seemed to have improved with a night of sleep.

The coffee maker sputtered. From the rich aroma that filled the small cabin, he could tell she liked strong coffee. He hoped she would use the food he’d stocked in the refrigerator. She might refuse anything that came from him and he wouldn't blame her.

Gillian was not the helpless woman he’d imagined. She’d an inner strength that carried her though a trying time in her life. After his last meeting with Aaron, he realized how much courage it had taken to stand up to the judge.

She opened the refrigerator and pulled out eggs and milk. Her long braid swayed across her back from the bounce in her step as she danced to the butcher block counter. While cooking, she hummed softly.  An air of contentment surrounded her.

What had happened between father and daughter to make Gillian prefer a common life to the privileged world she’d grown up in?  The answer might be more complex than he’d originally thought. And lately, he'd devoted a considerable amount of time to thinking about Gillian.

If he planned to make his morning court appearance on time, he would have to give up his voyeuristic game and start moving. Five more minutes, he decided as she came from behind the counter. She placed two plates on the table and turned toward him.

"The show's over," she said.  He kept his eyes closed and feigned sleep. "I know you've been watching me for the past half hour."

He pushed back the blanket and sat up. "If you knew I was awake why didn't you say something?"

She shrugged and sat at the table. "I didn't have anything worthwhile to say."

"When has that ever stopped a woman?"

"Do you want to eat your eggs or wear them?” Her eyes narrowed, but he noticed a hint of a smile.

"That's always been my problem. I don't know when to quit."

He rose and reached for his pullover, then remembering her fascination with his chest, he left the garment on the chair. If she realized that he was deliberately baiting her, she chose not to mention the fact as he joined her at the table. He tasted the eggs and let out a sigh of approval.

"Does this...," he made a sweeping wave over the table. "...mean you're no longer angry about the trick we played?"

"I was never angry about that," she said simply.

"You could have fooled me."

"I know, because it doesn't take much to fool you. You're brilliant when it comes to law, but you don't know the first thing about women."

Hawk grinned in spite of her seriousness. He’d been accused of being jaded but this was the first time anyone had ever accused him of being naive.

"When you saw how upset I was, you didn't tell me the truth. At that point, it ceased to be a joke."

"I apologized.” He reached for her hand and she yanked it back.

"For the wrong thing. But, maybe it's not all your fault. You see, I thought you were different and that was my mistake."

He took a piece of toast and scooped up the last of his eggs. "Different than whom?"

"Different than those boring society snobs who assume that because my father is rich, I must be an empty-headed china doll. I'm tired of being thought of as a million dollar trophy just waiting to grace the table of some lucky young man."

He swallowed hard. "I never thought of you like that."

"Prejudice is prejudice, Hawk. You made up your mind about me without ever asking me a single question."

"You don't answer."

"You never asked. You made accusations and expected me to deny or confirm. That's not the same thing."

"All right. When I get back Friday, we'll go to dinner. Then I'll have a chance to ask questions and we'll see if you answer."

Her eyes widened. "I'm not going out with you."

"Why?"

She raised her hands and turned her palms upward. "I don't have the proper clothes to wear."

"I'll make dinner and you can come as you are," he muttered seductively, while glancing under the table.

She landed her bare foot in his thigh. "Stop looking at my legs."

"When you stop staring at my chest."

"I don't stare at your chest.” He arched an eyebrow and warmth spread through her. "Occasionally I glance."

* * * *

His broad smile mocked her. She not only stared, she gawked, gaped, ogled and possibly drooled over him. Even now, she couldn't take her eyes off him.

That's making him pay, you cream puff.

Last night she’d wanted to be furious with him, but instead, she found comfort in having him in the house. She’d slept without fear for the first time in two weeks. 

"So, if I promise not to wear a shirt, do we have a date?" he asked.

"Won't it be a bit much to drive here and back just for dinner?"

"I have one court appearance in the morning and then I'm on vacation for a week. I wouldn't want to miss the holiday with my family."

"Oh, of course not.” Gillian cast him a dubious glare. She’d learned from Martha that, other than a token appearance, Hawk rarely celebrated the holidays on the reservation. Why did he suddenly have the urge to renew family traditions?

He squared his shoulders. "Do I detect a note of cynicism?"

"Who am I to cast suspicion on your honesty and integrity when it comes to your noble heritage?"

Like a boxer who had landed on the wrong end of a low blow, he groaned and hunched forward to rest his elbows on the table. She felt guilty again. He’d apologized, twice.

She clasped her hand over the taut muscle of his arm. "That wasn't fair. I'm sorry."

He gazed up, his dark eyes glistening with humor. "If you really mean that, you'll have dinner with me."

Although she knew she’d just been set up, she let out a small laugh at his bloody single-mindedness. "I'm not in the financial position to be turning down dinner invitations."

"I'll take your reply as an enthusiastic acceptance."

"You are unbelievable.” She tightened her fingers to pinch his arm.

He grinned. "I know."

"That wasn't a compliment," she said as she collected the dishes.

"Yet," he added, and laughed at her frustrated grunt. "I guess I better get going before I blow it, huh?"

She scrunched up her nose. "Good idea."

After he left, Gillian wondered why she’d accepted a date with him. He wore his resentment of her like a medal. What had she ever done to him?  They might have come from different worlds at one time, but in the past few years he’d traveled in the same social circle as she
had
. He’d even dated some of the women from the crowd she used to hang
out
with.

Oddly, she didn't miss her old friends. Not that any of them would be seen with her since her fall from grace. She laughed and started to wash the dishes. She hadn't lost anything by the shunning, except her illusions. Apparently, Hawk still clung to his. 

* * * *

Gillian sat next to a maple tree and rested her head against the trunk. A combination of anxiety and anticipation had made the remainder of the week pass at an excruciatingly slow pace. Now she wasn’t sure if she felt relief or regret that Friday had finally arrived. He’d been gone for four days, but he’d never left her mind. Part of her was drawn to his magnetic personality. At the same time, she found some of his character traits too similar to her father's for comfort.

No sense putting off the inevitable. As she headed towards the house, Shadow scampered over to her. He followed eagerly, nudging her leg. She tossed him a dog biscuit from the box on the front landing and he ran off, a happy canine. If only Hawk could be won over as simpl
e
.

Her stomach knotted. She paced along the porch, suddenly afraid to enter. Her last date with Hawk had been a disaster.  She wiped her sweaty palms against her skirt and took a deep breath. Why couldn't he be as easy to deal with as a computer?

Chapter
Ten

Hawk glanced out the window, watching Gillian spin circles on the front landing. Why was she stalling? Because you behaved like an arrogant ass the last time she trusted you, his conscience mocked back. He had a formidable task ahead proving he wasn’t always an obnoxious bore.

First, he’d to get her inside the house. He opened the door just as she raised her hand to knock. She froze, mid-swing.

“Don’t hit,” he joked.

“Oh, sorry,” she muttered, shyly folding her arms across her chest.

“I was kidding.” As dates went, theirs was off to an awkward start. He stepped aside to allow her to enter. "Have a seat," he said, pointing to the sofa.

Whether by design or accident, he wasn't sure, but she ignored his gesture and sat in a chair instead. She straightened her full skirt neatly over her knees and tucked the sides under her legs. Her smile held an underlying trace of apprehension.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked.

"Yes."

He’d expected a denial. Her swift and honest admission caught him by surprise. "Well, don't hold back. Tell it to me straight."

"Was I supposed to lie?"

He suppressed to urge to say that most women would. She didn't play games and he half-suspected that she’d never learned how. What he’d once perceived as calculating teasing had probably been innocent flirting. How had she survived for twenty four years without losing her naivety? The desire to protect her surged through him but first he’d to convince her that he was not her biggest threat.

"No, you shouldn't lie," he agreed.

"Do as I say, not as I do?" she asked.

He smiled wryly. It wasn't going to be easy to win her trust again. "Something like that."

"I thought so."

He sat on the arm of her chair. She tensed and stared at the floor. He placed one finger under her chin and tilted her head back. "Why are you afraid? I'm only a man."

"Isn't that reason enough?"

"Not for a woman who holds a black-belt in judo."

She arched her eyebrow. "I'm not worried about walking away with my bones intact. My sanity is another matter."

"Do I drive you crazy?" he muttered, deliberately choosing to misinterpret her meaning.

"I refuse to answer on the grounds it may inflate your ego." She let out a soft laugh and seemed to relax.

Hawk grinned. "I thought you agreed to answer my questions."

"If you want to interrogate me, serve me a subpoena. If you want answers, serve me dinner first. Information doesn't come cheap. Just ask Aaron."