Hawk really did need to lighten up. She relaxed a little as she asked, “What makes you think anything is going to change?”
That was a safe bet. Her remaining safe was not. He had a feeling that Grayson might already see through her act—because what else could it really be? Carly was way too intelligent, too savvy to be taken in by a second-rate motivational speaker no matter how slick he tried to be.
She’d had him going at first, Hawk thought, but he saw through it now. Because she really
was
still Carly, for all her protests to the contrary.
“That’s simple enough,” he told her, then warned, “Grayson doesn’t like being played.”
“Who’s playing Grayson?” she asked innocently.
Hawk didn’t buy the act for a second and rather resented that she was continuing with this charade after they’d made love. She was definitely not being honest with him.
“You are,” he bit off. When she opened her mouth to protest, he ordered curtly, “Save it. You’re still the same woman you were ten years ago.
That
woman wasn’t a fool.”
“I don’t know about that,” she murmured under her breath, remembering the way she’d ached, sending him away. Maybe she shouldn’t have.
Granted he was more successful now, but he didn’t look any happier than he had back then. As a matter of fact, he looked less so, and she certainly wasn’t ready to do cartwheels over the course her life had taken. She was still struggling to make a go of the farm, or had been before she’d decided to walk away from it and Cold Plains. That plan had involved being determined to start over somewhere else.
But she wanted to start over not just for herself but her sister, as well, something that was proving impossible to do since Mia wanted to remain here to become the Bride of Dracula—or at least his first lieutenant.
“She wasn’t a fool,” he repeated. “She was noble, loyal and giving. And she was the type to make sacrifices.”
He knew, she thought as she looked into his eyes. Hawk knew. Knew what she’d done all those years ago, knew what it had cost her. But until she confirmed it, he had only his speculation to go on. “You’re giving me too much credit,” she said dismissively.
Lying there, he began to stroke her thigh as he spoke. “And you’re not giving me enough. I want you out of here, Carly. Grayson is trouble. He has blood on his hands, and despite the wide, artificial grin on his face, he wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate whoever gets in his way—male or female.” Hawk’s meaning was very clear.
For a moment, she thought about continuing her act. But then she decided not to keep up the pretense, which meant trying to defend Grayson’s character and actions. She wasn’t
that
good an actress. She loathed the man and what Hawk was saying really scared her. Not that she was afraid for herself—she could take care of herself—but she was exceedingly worried about her sister. Mia was apparently an integral part of Grayson’s plans for the future.
“I can’t leave Mia,” she told him flatly, thinking that was the end of the discussion.
Hawk surprised her by saying, “I know how you feel, but Mia’s a big girl, she can look out for herself.”
She’d forgotten that in his case, his sense of family left something to be desired.
“No, she can’t,” Carly insisted. “If I don’t do something, Mia’s going to get married in two weeks to a man she doesn’t love. A man who’s too old for her. A man whose first wife went mysteriously missing. I don’t want the same thing happening to Mia, not when I can stop it.”
She was
finally
being honest, he thought. Took her long enough. “So I was right.”
That caught her up short. “Most likely,” she allowed, “but about what?”
“That you’re still in Cold Plains for a reason. That you’re not hanging around because Grayson charmed you into remaining.” His mouth curved for the first time, his smile stirring her the way it always did. “I knew you weren’t that empty-headed.”
Carly laughed shortly. “Still have that silver tongue, I see.”
He knew she was taking exception to the word
empty- headed,
but he made no attempt to apologize because that had been his concern, that she’d somehow lost all her common sense and that almost seemed inconceivable.
“You could always think for yourself,” he continued, “not follow the crowd like some lemming, programmed to drop off the edge of a cliff straight into the ocean.”
In all honesty, she hadn’t wanted him to think that she was captivated by Grayson. That was just too demeaning. “So you understand that I have to stay until I can get her to see reason—or until I can find a way to kidnap the bride before the wedding? At this point,” she confessed, “I don’t care which way I do it as long as I can keep Mia from marrying that man.”
He wondered if she’d thought through the consequences or, if she had, if she was turning a blind eye toward them. “If you wind up having to kidnap her, she’s going to hate you.”
Carly shrugged. Mia already blamed her for what she considered her unhappy, deprived life. “Won’t be the first time.”
Hawk sighed. He might have known trying to talk her out of it was useless. “So you’re not going to listen to me and get out of Cold Plains?”
“I’ll get out of Cold Plains—after I have Mia,” she assured him. “Not before.”
They were lying here, carrying on a conversation, dressed in nothing but the warmth of their own body heat. Body heat that reached out to the other.
Hawk slipped his arm around her and drew closer to her. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down into her face. “Were you always this stubborn?” he asked her.
“Always,” she whispered.
Hawk shook his head. “Funny, I don’t seem to remember that.”
“What do you remember?” she asked.
The smile that came over Hawk’s features told her exactly what he remembered. The same thing she did. The lovemaking that nurtured their souls and kept them both sane, making their stark world bearable.
Rather than say anything, Hawk showed her.
He stayed the night, even though when he’d first stopped on her doorstep, he’d had every intention of returning to his hotel room at the end of the evening. Somehow, he just never made it out of the room.
When Hawk finally woke up the next morning, he reached for her.
And found only emptiness beside him.
Carly was gone.
He was programmed to think the worst in any given situation, and all traces of sleep and contentment instantly fled. He was alert and ready to go searching for Carly.
But the next moment, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the tempting smell of bacon and eggs frying registered. He sincerely doubted Grayson or any of the man’s robotlike minions were here, making him breakfast.
Pausing only to pull on his jeans, Hawk padded down to the kitchen in his bare feet.
He was relieved to find Carly there, standing over the stove, making breakfast. Instead of wearing her own clothes, she had on the light blue shirt he’d worn last night. It hung down to her knees, and he had the feeling that she was completely naked underneath.
He had difficulty reining in his imagination. The sight of Carly like that made him ache for her all over again.
Moving quietly as he’d been trained to do, Hawk came up behind the woman who had rocked his world last night, rocked it the way it hadn’t been, even remotely, these past ten years.
He stood behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. He felt her stiffen as she grabbed for another skillet, her hand wrapping around the handle as if she intended to use it as a weapon.
“Down, tiger, it’s only me,” he whispered against her ear, managing to all but singe her very skin with his warm breath.
Carly breathed a sigh of relief. She released her grip on the skillet, leaving it on the back, dormant burner.
“There is no ‘only’ when it comes to you,” she informed him. Then before he could explore her comment, she told him to “Sit down, breakfast is almost ready.”
Pulling over the two plates she’d set out on the counter, Carly began to divide up the eggs and bacon. She topped it off with the toast that she’d just finished buttering.
She then set the pan down and gave Hawk the larger portion. As she remembered, he always had an appetite first thing in the morning. Conversely, hers always took a couple of hours to kick in.
“By the way,” she said as she set his plate before him, “some FBI agent you are. You didn’t even stir when I slipped out of bed this morning. I thought you guys are supposed to sleep with one eye open.”
He took the fresh coffee she’d just poured for him. It was as black as he imagined Grayson’s heart was. For a second, he savored the heat that rose up from the cup before taking a deep, life-affirming sip.
“You completely wore me out,” he said matter-of-factly, then added, “I’ll have to work on that.”
Was that last part just an off-the-cuff remark, or did he mean something by it, she wondered. “Working on it” made it sound as if she would be there to see if he succeeded.
Don’t read anything into it,
she warned herself. This was nice, being here like this with him, but it too was an aberration. The man was here for a reason, and she wasn’t it. He had a job to do, and then he would be on his way.
She had to remember that, Carly silently insisted. Otherwise, she left herself open to devastation. She couldn’t go through that twice, loving him and watching him walking away from her. She wouldn’t survive a second time—if she allowed herself to love him again.
So this time, it’s going to be just fun, no strings.
“You haven’t lost your touch,” Hawk said after taking a hearty bite of his breakfast. He looked at her for a long moment, then added, “Not with anything.”
She could feel warmth creeping up the sides of her neck, reaching her face. Any second now, she would turn a really embarrassing shade of pink, she thought, upset with her inability to bank down feelings.
“So what’s the plan?” she asked abruptly, trying to change the subject. Hawk was exceedingly focused, so if she could just get him to think about his reasons for being here, she thought it was a safe bet that she could turn lime-green and he wouldn’t notice. At least not immediately.
“With Grayson,” she added, in case he thought she was asking about their future together.
She already knew the answer to that one. They had no future together. She’d taken care of that when she’d initially sent him on his way. This was just a lovely, quick trip down memory lane, but she wasn’t going to make herself crazy by thinking that maybe they were getting a second chance to do it right this time.
They were both too far along on their separate paths for her to think that life offered any kind of “do-overs.” It didn’t. One had to live with the consequences of one’s actions, and she was prepared to do just that, even if it felt as if she were swallowing razor blades.
“The plan is that I continue rattling cages, asking questions, trying to get someone to testify against Grayson and to hopefully give us the missing evidence that ties that bastard to the five murders. I know in my gut he did it—or ordered it done—but I can’t prove it.
“So far, the guy’s been a slick devil. We’ve connected the women to Cold Plains, but we haven’t been able to connect them to Grayson—yet.” He thought of Micah and wondered again where the man was. Grayson’s twin still wasn’t answering his phone, but he refused to think that Micah was dead. Men like him brought death to people; they weren’t mowed down by it.
If he could just get a hold of Micah and ask him some key questions, maybe things would clear up a little.
At any rate, it was something he was going to look into—as soon as he finished breakfast. Granted he was indulging himself, but he rarely did that, and who knew when he could get a home-cooked meal again?
“Everything okay?” Carly asked as she sat down on the stool next to his at the counter.
“The meal’s fantastic,” he said in a tone that told her he was leaving out more than he was saying.
Fork raised, she forgot about eating for a moment. Leaning her head against her hand, she looked at him.
“So what isn’t okay?” she asked.
What wasn’t okay was that he suddenly had her to worry about. She wasn’t one of those women who stood off to the side, observing or waiting to be rescued. She was the kind of woman who charged out and took matters into her own hands. She was the kind of woman who made him worry and kept him up at night. Knowing the answer he was going to get, he gave it a shot, anyway. “Any way I can convince you to leave dealing with Grayson up to me?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Not even a repeat performance of last night,” she answered. There might have been a smile on her lips, but her eyes, he noted, were very serious as she added, “I take care of my own, Hawk, you know that. And Mia’s my sister, that makes her my problem.”
“She’s old enough to make her own decisions,” he pointed out again.
“Only if she makes the right ones,” was Carly’s good-humored albeit stubborn response.