Aim for the Heart Read online

  "The switchboard is still screening your calls," Sarah said, flipping open the lid of her suitcase. "The main desk has a stack of telegrams and faxes that have been accumulating through the evening. Do you want them sent up?"

  "No. What are you doing?"

  She smoothed the folds from the sweater that was on top of her clothes. "I'm packing."

  He put his glass on the table beside the bottle and rose to his feet. "Why?"

  "Now that the conference is over and your life is no longer in danger, my mission is finished."

  Of course, he knew that. It was over. Swift and neat, like the way to drink aquavit. By ensuring Sarah's safety, he had guaranteed her departure. He walked to the window. For an instant he remembered the other window, the gunfire, the destruction, the brutality. He set his jaw and flung the curtain aside.

  The cold peace of a long Scandinavian night spread out before him. Lights glowed from the street level, but most of the windows in the buildings around them were dark. It was almost two in the morning. Ten hours had passed since the attempt on his life. Eight hours had gone by since he'd ensured it wouldn't happen again. It seemed longer. How could so much have happened in such a short time?

  He braced his fist on the window frame. This was the first time he'd been free to stand here without danger. He should be rejoicing. Instead, he felt…empty. Adrift.

  "The hotel security team will remain in place to keep the reporters out of range until you depart for the airport," Sarah continued. "Your flight leaves at three tomorrow afternoon."

  "I've decided to stay here for a few days."

  "Oh."

  "Sarah?"

  "Yes?"

  He yanked the curtain back in place and turned to face her. "I'd like you to stay, too."

  She slipped her hairbrush into the side of her suitcase. She didn't pretend to be surprised by his invitation. Hawk knew she was too honest for that. He wondered how he could have doubted her word before.

  No, he knew why he'd doubted her. Women can't be trusted. That was a lesson he'd learned fourteen years ago.

  But this was a time for looking ahead, not back. He'd made sure of that, hadn't he? He'd torched his bridges in public. He'd done it spectacularly. There was no going back.

  Sarah closed her suitcase and snapped the latches. She glanced at the folded cot that had been left just inside the door. "The threat to your life appears to be over, but if you still feel you need a bodyguard—"

  "I don't want you as my bodyguard. That's not why I asked you to stay."

  "I realize this must be a very emotional time for you. I could try to find a counselor for you to talk to."

  He strode across the room and took her hand. "I told you once before, Sarah. I don't want anyone else. I want you."

  She didn't pull away. She looked at where his fingers enclosed hers.

  "Stay with me, Sarah. At least for tonight."

  She dipped her head. Fine strands of wheat-colored hair swung against her cheek. "I do understand how difficult it was for you to give away your research. I couldn't imagine letting go of something I'd dedicated my life to like that."

  "Yes, I knew you would understand," he said. "That's one of the things we have in common. We've both built our lives around our work."

  "I could see it was painful for you, but it was a brilliant choice."

  "It was the only logical option. Duty is a fine concept, but there's no honor in supporting something that's wrong."

  She was silent for a while, as if considering his words. She laid her other hand on top of his. "What are you going to do now?"

  "I don't know yet. Find another project. Or maybe go fishing."

  "You could always continue your fusion research."

  "There are a dozen physicists who are probably already in their labs doing exactly that. I'm no longer needed."

  "You would complete it before anyone else."

  "Who completes it isn't important, as long as it gets done. That was the point."

  She ran her fingertips over his knuckles. "Do you have any regrets?"

  "Sure, I do. I wish no one had needed to die for me to figure out how arrogant I'd been to think I could control what the world did with my knowledge."

  "I told you before, what happened tonight wasn't your fault. If anything, it was mine. I was in charge of the security."

  "You saved my life."

  "So did your vest when it stopped that bullet. You did a good job of saving yourself when you hit Weltzer."

  The thought of how close it had been, how easily things could have gone differently, made him shudder. "Sarah, I don't really want to talk about that right now."

  She laced her fingers with his. "Then what do you want to do, Hawk?"

  The sound of her voice saying his name hit him like another shot of aquavit. Warmth unfolded inside him that wasn't due to the alcohol. "You called me Hawk."

  "My mission is over," she said, as if that were explanation enough.

  And it was. He knew her well enough by now to understand her sense of honor. She had done her duty. Now it was finished. She no longer needed to throw up a barrier of formality between them.

  Yet her duty hadn't been the only barrier. There were her feelings for a dead soldier, the perfect man, the perfect love.

  But he didn't want to think right now any more than he wanted to talk. His life had irrevocably changed. This was the one aspect of it that didn't have to be complicated. He lifted his hand to her hair, brushing a stray lock behind her ear. "You're a beautiful woman, Sarah."

  "Hawk—"

  "In here," he said, laying his fingertips against her temple. "This is beautiful. Your mind. Your strength of will. I've admired your intelligence from the moment I met you."

  Her lips curved. Just as he'd guessed, that was one compliment she was prepared to accept.

  "And in here," he murmured, shifting closer. He placed his palm on the upper curve of her breast. "In your heart. Where you keep your compassion and your courage. This is beautiful, too."

  "Thank you, Hawk."

  He held her gaze, his palm over her heart. Her chest rose and fell with the soft rhythm of her breathing. Slowly the rhythm changed, turning ragged. Her eyes darkened, the flecks of gold hidden by expanding black. He looked down. Against the collar of her blouse, her pulse beat rapidly at the side of her neck. He rotated his hand. "Since you're no longer on duty, is there any reason why I shouldn't kiss you, Sarah?"

  "There are dozens, Hawk. Do you want me to list them?"

  He ran his thumb along the opening of her blouse, pressing it into the dip between her breasts. "Maybe that was the wrong question."

  Her eyes half closed in pleasure. "Then what would be the right question?"

  "That's simple."

  "Mmm?"

  "Do you want to kiss me?"

  Sarah didn't want to reply. She knew if she did, there would be no going back.

  But his touch felt right. It had been so long, so very long, since she'd allowed any man to touch her like this. Her body was thrumming with demands that hadn't stirred in years, not since Jackson.

  She felt a rustling of guilt, but she tried to ignore it. She had no reason to feel she was being unfaithful. Her love would never change. What was happening between her and Hawk was entirely different from what she'd shared with Jackson. This was just physical, the normal reaction of a healthy woman to a sexually attractive man. She and Hawk had been straight about it from the start.

  Hawk moved his hand to her throat and unfastened the top button of her blouse. "Sarah?"

  She looked at his face. The naked need she saw in his eyes shook her. She thought again of what he'd been through tonight, how he'd fought beside her as readily as he'd taken her into his arms afterward. She thought of what he'd sacrificed by giving away his work. She had no choice but to reply honestly. "Yes, Hawk. I want to kiss you. Why else would I be standing here letting you touch me even though we both know it's nothing but adrenaline and circumstance—"
>
  His lips settled over hers. Firmly. Possessively. Putting an end to the question.

  Sarah was glad. Just for tonight she didn't want to be the good little soldier, doing the right thing, loving the right man.

  No, this had nothing to do with love. It was sex. A crush. An infatuation.

  Hawk opened three more buttons on the front of her blouse and slipped his hand inside. The slide of his palm against her skin made Sarah's nipples tingle. She leaned closer, her pulse throbbing in anticipation as he traced the lace edge of her bra.

  The caress she'd expected didn't come. Instead he slid his hand upward, pulled her collar aside and bared her left shoulder.

  She knew it wasn't a pleasant sight. The old bruise from the dislocation was mottled yellow and green. The bruise she'd added three days ago was deep purple. She reached for her collar.

  He stopped her with a murmur. Then he lowered his head and brushed his lips across her bruises.

  The action was so tender, so…Hawk, Sarah felt her eyes mist. She wasn't accustomed to tenderness. It stirred far more than the urges of her body. She thrust her fingers into his hair, guiding his head toward her breast.

  Hawk dropped to his knees in front of her.

  Sarah braced her hands on his shoulders. "Hawk," she whispered. "I didn't mean…I wasn't asking…"

  "I know what you need, Sarah." He wrapped one arm behind her legs and pushed up her skirt. "What we both need."

  She felt his breath on her thigh. Her stomach contracted at the intimacy. Even as she told herself it was too fast, too soon to allow this, her fingers clenched on his shirt, holding him there, wanting him to go on.

  He rubbed his cheek along the inside of her thigh, then placed a kiss in the center of her taped wound.

  A sob built in Sarah's throat. This wasn't what she'd expected, either. She'd wanted passion, simple and mindless. She thought that's what he needed, too. Instead, he was treating her as if she were delicate. Vulnerable. Soft. Weak.

  But she was tough. She was strong. She didn't need this. She'd proved that, hadn't she? She was an equal to any man. She'd fought her battles and been what everyone counted on her to be.

  He straightened up, bringing his mouth back to hers. He kissed her until she melted against him. She folded her arms around his neck as much to bring him closer as to keep herself from falling. She could feel the tension in his arms, in the hardened muscles of his thighs. She felt the firm length of his arousal pressed against her stomach.

  All right, this was more like it. She wanted to be swept away so she didn't have to think about what she was doing. "Hawk, please," she whispered.

  He undid the rest of her buttons and helped her strip off her blouse. But he wouldn't be hurried. He tipped up her chin and kissed his way down her throat, then paused to lick the hollow at the base. A sound of pleasure rumbled from his chest.

  She reached behind her back to unhook her bra.

  He caught her hands in his. "Let me."

  She hadn't known it was possible to take so long to slide a hook from an eye, or that the simple act could be so enjoyable. With her hands held behind her and her back arched, she felt exposed, wanton and unbelievably aroused. She felt the stroke of Hawk's thumbs beside her spine, the slide of his lips on her shoulder then the scrape of his teeth beside the lace strap as he slowly eased it down her arm.

  Yet this still wasn't quite what Sarah wanted. She wasn't able to stop thinking. She remembered each detail of her time with Hawk. The intense emotions she'd tried so hard to suppress were pouring out, swelling with every touch. Her senses became heightened. She was exquisitely aware of every kiss and caress. Her nipples were so hard they were throbbing. Hawk brushed his lips along the upper edge of her bra, up to her other shoulder and dragged down the remaining strap. Still holding her hands, he took a step back, pulled her arms to her sides and let the garment fall away on its own.

  At the touch of cool air on her sensitized breasts she wanted to scream. When the cool air was replaced by the warmth of Hawk's breath, then the rasp of his tongue, the sound that came from her throat was closer to a moan. She yanked her hands free to grab his hair. "Hawk!"

  He wouldn't be hurried at this, either. He kissed each breast so thoroughly, when he lifted his head she was trembling. He smiled, got back on his knees and reached for the zipper of her skirt.

  That took longer, far longer, than undoing a simple hook. He lingered over every inch of skin he revealed as he found creative, maddening, wonderful ways to remove the rest of her clothes. By the time she was naked, her knees gave out. She couldn't wait. Not one more minute, not one more second.

  Hawk clamped his hands on either side of her waist and guided her backward past the bench that held her suitcase. Her shoulders hit the wall beside the wardrobe. She heard the clink as he unfastened his belt and the grate as he lowered his zipper.

  He cupped her buttocks and pulled her upward. "Sarah?"

  "Yes, Hawk!" She hooked her legs around his hips and climbed onto him, too close to the edge for patience. "Oh, yes!"

  She shattered the moment he entered her. The climax rippled through her body and seared through her brain. He wrapped his arms around her and braced his legs apart, holding her until her sobs quieted and she had caught her breath.

  Oh, yes, she thought. This was good. Perfect. If it had continued any longer, she would have gone crazy. She smiled and started to lower her legs.

  Hawk grasped her thighs, tilted his hips and began to move again.

  It wasn't over. It was just beginning. She dug her nails into his shoulders and hung on as another wave of delight built. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more, he showed her that she could.

  Sarah was shaking as Hawk carried her to the bedroom. She didn't let that stop her from stripping off his clothes and treating him to the same thorough caresses he'd given her. She reveled in the freedom to explore all the shadowed, intimate places so unique to a man. She learned his taste, his textures, the sounds he made. His pleasure became hers as his shudders evoked her own.

  For the rest of the night they spoke without words, slaking their needs even as they discovered new ones. Sarah knew this was passion, but it wasn't simple. It was sex, but it wasn't mindless.

  It was more than she had wanted. Much, much more.

  Chapter 8

  Sarah awoke to the aroma of coffee and the feel of sunshine on her back. She had a moment of disorientation. Sunshine? Why were the curtains open? Where were her clothes?

  Warm breath feathered over her elbow. Beard stubble rasped along the underside of her arm.

  The night before came back to her. The things they'd done. The things she'd felt. Oh, God. Now what?

  She kept her eyes closed, giving herself time to think. It might have been fatigue. She'd been running on fumes for days now. So had Hawk. That might be why the sex had been so…

  Her mind couldn't come up with the right word. Special? Magnificent? Incredible? Oh, yes, it was all that. Her body was weary but thoroughly sated. Alive. Tingling with well-being, as if she'd finished a marathon and gone on a chocolate binge.

  "Good morning, Sarah."

  The tone of his voice brought a wave of remembered heat. The tinge of the South that colored his words was more pronounced today. It reminded her of his gentleness and his gallantry.

  Was that why the sex had been different? Was it because he was so unlike a soldier?

  But he wasn't all that different, was he? He didn't lack courage, and his sense of personal honor was as strong as hers. His tenderness didn't mean he was weak.

  "I know you're awake."

  She'd already figured out he wouldn't be an easy man to fool. She opened her eyes.

  Hawk was kneeling on the floor beside the bed, his arms folded on the mattress near her pillow. He was wearing one of the hotel's white terry cloth bathrobes. It gaped open over his chest as he propped his chin on his hands and brought his face level with hers. His black hair was tousled in finger-combed
tufts, one lock falling over his forehead. The night's growth of beard darkened his jaw.

  She had seen him the morning before. It had been unavoidable, considering the close quarters they shared. Yet she hadn't seen him this close. And it was lucky she hadn't seen him smiling like this or she never would have been able to keep her mind on her duty. She would have been too busy imagining the taste of his lips.

  His smile spread to his dimples. Two tempting dips appeared beside the folds that bracketed his mouth. The skin beneath his eyes was smudged with weariness—evidence of the emotional extremes of the day before—yet the fine skin at the corners of his eyes was crinkling into laugh lines.

  She didn't have to look any farther to wonder why the sex had been so incredible. Hawkins Lemay was an incredibly sexy man, that's all. She'd known that from her first whiff of him.

  There was nothing else she could do. She looped her arm around the back of his neck, pulled his head to hers and kissed him.

  The mattress dipped. Without breaking the kiss, Hawk opened his robe and stretched out beside her, then splayed his fingers over her buttocks and guided her hips against his.

  Had she thought she was sated? The feel of him dissolved the last remnants of sleep. Her body responded instantly, its demands even more insistent than the night before. She moaned and hooked her foot behind his knee, parting her thighs.

  They slid together easily, already attuned to the angle that would bring them the closest. She felt the world shrink as her senses filled with the slide of skin on skin and the liquid sound of sex.

  He rolled her to her back, weaving their fingers together to stretch her arms above her head. His robe draped them both, wrapping her in his scent, the soft terry cloth brushing her ribs and hips as his chest moved over her breasts. He set a leisurely rhythm, a sweet hello, good-morning pace that built in waves as effortlessly as the sunshine that spilled over the bed. His fingers tightened on hers as the waves peaked, the mattress groaning with their shudders.

  Sarah smiled, nestling beneath him as the echoes of the tremors faded.

  He passed the tip of his tongue over her upper lip. "You should do that more often."