Aim for the Heart Page 6

  Sarah tried to remind herself not to become personally involved, but the more she learned, the more she wanted to learn. There were so many facets to Hawk she was only beginning to discover….

  "Captain, are you still there?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Interpol will be faxing you their latest information sometime this evening. Review it ASAP. I'll check in with you later."

  She returned her phone to her pocket. The two women had left the room while she'd been talking. Only the tall blond woman, who was the hotel fitness instructor, remained. Sarah was about to resume her post by the door when Hawk hit the switch to stop the treadmill.

  He put his hands on his knees, taking a few seconds to catch his breath before he grabbed a towel and wiped his face. He was stretching to cool down when the fitness instructor drifted over and smiled. Sarah couldn't hear what she said, but whatever it was, Hawk shook his head. Two minutes later he walked to Sarah.

  "I'm finished here," he said. "I'll shower in the suite."

  Sarah waited until they had exited the gym and were in the relative quiet of the basement corridor before she spoke. "What did she want?"

  "Olga? From what I could understand, she offered to show me the sauna."

  Yeah, I'll bet that's not all she offered to show you. Sarah grimaced at the petty thought. The hotel employee was merely being professional. Sarah should be, too. She did a visual sweep of the corridor. "I'm glad you refused, sir. From a security standpoint, using the shower in your room is more prudent."

  "That's what I figured." He looped the towel behind his neck and put his palm on the door to the fire stairs. "I'd like to take the stairs instead of the elevator so I can cool down. Is that a problem?"

  "Not at all. Thanks for checking with me. Your cooperation makes my job much easier."

  "That's why I used the hamster wheel in the gym instead of going outside for a run."

  "That was sensible of you. I wouldn't want you to place yourself at risk."

  "It's you I'm more concerned about."

  "I'm not the target, sir."

  "That wouldn't make any difference if you decide to put yourself in the way of a bullet," he said, holding the door open for her.

  She realized he was being gallant again. Not simply by holding the door for her, but by trying to protect her the same way he had when they had first met. Now that Jibril had verified the threat to his life, Hawk was being careful for Sarah's sake. He didn't want her in danger. That's what was behind his new cooperativeness.

  You still aspire to be the hero. That's what Jibril had said. Yet, judging by the tone he'd used, he hadn't meant it as a compliment.

  They ascended the first three flights in silence. Sarah listened for other footsteps in the stairwell but heard none. There was only the sound of Hawk's breathing…and the sharp scent of honest sweat and the tantalizing close-up view of his taut body moving only inches away from hers.

  She admitted to herself she would have been watching him work out even if she hadn't been duty bound to keep an eye on him. It wasn't just because he had an appealing body—she was accustomed to being around men who had far more spectacular physiques. It was because of all those other aspects that made up this man. "Did it help?" she asked.

  "What?"

  "The workout. Did you outrun what was bothering you?"

  "It's not a matter of outrunning it." He rounded the end of the banister on the fourth-floor landing and started up the final flight. "It's a matter of getting it back under control. But you'd know all about control, wouldn't you?"

  "I'm not sure what you mean."

  "I think you do." He reached the landing of the fifth floor and grasped the door handle.

  She stretched past him and put her hand over his to keep him from opening it.

  The moment she touched his skin, her awareness of him spiked. She looked at his bare arm, at the fine sprinkling of dark hair, the swell of muscle, and she had to fight the urge to caress it. Oh yes, she knew what he meant about control. "Better let me go first so I can check the corridor, sir."

  He didn't move aside. His hand tensed beneath hers. "Sarah, I owe you an apology."

  "For what?"

  "For doubting your story about the assassin. I simply hadn't had enough facts to be sure of my conclusion."

  "You explained your skepticism yesterday afternoon. It was understandable. I didn't take it personally."

  He released the door handle and turned his hand over, enclosing her fingers within his. "Yes, you did. You wanted to punch me for insulting your honor."

  She had to keep reminding herself how perceptive he was. "It was my honor that prevented me from punching you."

  He shifted to face her. "Always the good soldier."

  She looked at the way his T-shirt clung to the line of his collarbone. His jaw was clenched, the tendons at the side of his neck standing out to frame the vulnerable hollow at the base of his throat where his pulse beat. She felt her own pulse trip in response. "That's what I strive to be."

  "What about the woman? The one who likes lace underwear."

  "This topic isn't appropriate."

  He lifted her hand and rubbed her knuckles across his lower lip. "Neither is the way you're looking at me."

  Oh, damn. Did nothing escape him? She focused on the door behind him. "Dr. Lemay—"

  He moved their joined hands behind her back and drew her closer. "Call me Hawk."

  She could feel the heat roll off his body. His skin was still damp. His grip on her fingers tightened. His breathing was harsh and rapid, but she didn't think it was only due to his run or the climb up the stairs. "No, sir. I can't do that."

  "Then we'll have to think of something you can do."

  She moved her gaze to his face.

  That was a mistake. She had already read his intentions in his voice and his touch. Now she could see them in his expression. His eyes gleamed as he focused on her mouth.

  She was skilled in hand-to-hand combat. She knew at least a dozen ways to get out of this hold, several of which would be relatively painless. The simplest of them all would be to tell Hawk to stop—she was positive that he wouldn't force himself on her or any woman.

  Yet she did nothing as he lowered his head. She saw the kiss coming. Despite her years of training, despite her sense of honor, she stood there and let it happen.

  His lips were warm and tasted of salt. They settled over hers gently at first, as tenderly as the way he would touch her hair. Pleasure flowed through her like a burst of unexpected sunshine. And then she made her second mistake. She kissed him back.

  The gentleness turned to possession. He slipped his other arm around her, pressing her breasts to his chest. Even through her sweater she could feel the damp heat of his muscles. Her nipples hardened. She shuddered.

  He slipped his tongue past her lips. With one bold sweep, he explored her mouth. She could feel his strength, the same determination she'd seen and admired for the past day. She swayed into him, aligning their bodies. She brought her free hand to the back of his head and held him steady as she stretched upward….

  A door opened somewhere below them. The sound jerked Sarah back to her senses. With a whispered curse, she twisted out of Hawk's embrace and drew her gun, placing herself between him and the stairs.

  The footsteps were difficult to hear over the pounding of her pulse, but they were retreating. Thank God. Her momentary lapse wasn't going to cost anything.

  Damn! How could she have let this happen? Of all the stupid, self-indulgent, irresponsible things to do. No matter how attracted to him she was, it was no excuse for jeopardizing the mission and his life.

  "I'm not going to apologize for that." Hawk's voice was rough. He stepped behind her. His teeth grazed her ear. "I think we both wanted it."

  She tilted her head away. "Then I'll apologize, sir. As a soldier—"

  "I wasn't kissing the soldier, Sarah. I was kissing the woman."

  Chapter 5

  The curtains we
re drawn against the evening darkness. The soft light from the lamps mellowed the ivory and rose tones of the suite, providing a hushed atmosphere. Hawk was alone with a fascinating woman, but the rush of his pulse had nothing to do with romance. He tilted the shade of the lamp on the desk to throw more light on the photograph he studied.

  It was black and white with the telltale graininess that was the result of a telephoto lens. It had been transmitted by fax, which had added a further degree of blurriness. Still, the resolution was high enough to portray a distinctive face. It belonged to a white man in his late forties. He had close-cropped gray hair and a thick mustache. His deep-set eyes were spaced wide apart and were unusually pale.

  Sarah gathered the rest of the pages that had printed out from the fax machine, tapped them on the desktop to square them up and started reading from the top one. "His name is Dieter Weltzer. He's a German national who has been linked to several terrorist groups but has no strong affiliations. He's a freelancer."

  Hawk tried to discern the expression in the black-and-white face, but he could find none. "A freelance assassin who has been hired to kill me."

  "Yes. Prince Jibril's sources were correct. Weltzer doesn't work cheap. Interpol uncovered a deposit of a quarter million dollars that appeared in one of the accounts Weltzer uses."

  Hawk let out a low whistle. "Who wants me dead that much?"

  "That's the real question. Unfortunately, we still have no information on who hired him."

  Hawk dropped the photograph on the desk. It wasn't every day a man looked into the face of what could be his executioner. "At least we know what he looks like."

  "Not necessarily. He could have shaved his mustache and be wearing a hairpiece. He could use tinted contacts or dark glasses to hide the color of his eyes."

  "He won't be able to disguise everything."

  "That's true. There are some aspects like the shape of his head and the proportion of his limbs that he can't change. All this information was distributed to the Swedish authorities, as well. They will be watching every point of entry and stepping up surveillance of this area."

  "He would probably be in the country already," Hawk said.

  Sarah nodded and started on the next page. "They say he has always worked alone, so he's very mobile. His preferred method of attack is using a long-range rifle and firing from a concealed vantage point."

  "Like yesterday beside the canal."

  "Yes."

  "You really did save my life."

  She looked up to meet his gaze. "Yes, Dr. Lemay. That's my job."

  There was no hint of triumph on her face, even though she was continuing to be proved right. Her strength of character moved him. It also maddened him. "Thank you, Sarah."

  "Sir?"

  "For saving my life." He caught her elbow. "But if you ever put yourself in danger for me like that again I'll lock you up."

  "I intend to protect you however I see fit." She pulled her arm from his grasp. "I don't tell you how to do your job, so don't tell me how to do mine."

  "Sarah—"

  "And in the future, unless it's necessary during the course of this mission, I would prefer it if you tried not to touch me. I'll endeavor to do the same."

  "It was only your arm."

  "Yes, but I only touched your hand this afternoon and it led to a kiss. We were lucky that time. We can't afford to let things escalate again."

  They had avoided the topic for the past four hours. He'd had his shower and worked on his speech; she'd retreated into her role of his bodyguard; but the topic couldn't be ignored forever.

  Hawk knew she was right. He shouldn't grab her like this. Especially now that he was beginning to absorb the seriousness of the threat to him. Interpol had just faxed them the identity of his potential killer. They both had to stay alert, and he sure as hell couldn't do that if all he was thinking about was taking Sarah in his arms again.

  His gaze dropped to her lips. His muscles clenched as he remembered the spicy sweet taste of her mouth, the feel of her tongue stroking his and her nipples hardening against his chest—

  "Dr. Lemay."

  He hadn't even realized he'd started to lean toward her. He straightened up and paced to the window.

  "Sir, your shadow."

  He changed direction so the lamp didn't cast his silhouette on the curtain. He detoured past the sofa, walked around her cot and reached the wardrobe. He braced his hands on either side of the wooden doors and took a deep breath. "All right. I agree that kissing you in the stairwell this afternoon wasn't wise. I could have put both of us in danger."

  "I was equally responsible." She cleared her throat. "This kind of thing has been known to happen as a reaction to tension."

  "What 'kind of thing'?"

  "Sexual attraction, sir. It's a normal physiological reaction to the effects of adrenaline."

  He looked at her over his shoulder. "Are you admitting you're sexually attracted to me?"

  "You noticed it yourself, so I don't think there's any point denying it, and we don't have time to be coy."

  There was that look again, the same one she'd given him when she'd seen him gazing at her breasts. Why did he find her take-it-or-leave-it self-confidence so alluring? "Does that mean you enjoyed our kiss?"

  "Whether I did or not is irrelevant. We're both adults." She squared up the fax papers and set them back on the desk. "We know it didn't mean anything."

  "It didn't?"

  "As I've tried to explain, the incident arose from proximity and stress. It was an outlet for emotions. Neither of us should put any importance on it."

  "So if I kiss you again, it wouldn't matter?"

  "That's not what I said. The point I'm trying to make is that we don't have to let it be a problem. We can admit having impulses but we can still control them. We have more important concerns."

  He turned to lean his back against the wardrobe. He folded his arms over his chest. "How many missions have you been on, Sarah?"

  "I couldn't say exactly. I've been in the army for nine years."

  "Have you had a problem with sexual attraction before?"

  "No."

  "Have you kissed someone you're supposed to protect?"

  "Certainly not."

  "Then what's different about this mission?"

  "That's a good question."

  "Could it be me?"

  "I don't see why, Dr. Lemay. You're not my type."

  "Oh? What's wrong with me?"

  "It really doesn't have anything to do with you. I prefer military men."

  "Ah. Like dear old Dad, the famous General Bartholomew Fox."

  She stiffened. "No, like my fiancé, Captain Kyle Jackson."

  Hawk was surprised by the sudden disappointment he felt. She wore no rings on her fingers, but he shouldn't have assumed she was free. He hadn't even stopped to consider the question. He should have. He couldn't be the only man who found Sarah Fox to be a fascinating woman.

  And she wouldn't be the first woman to kiss another man while being promised to someone else.

  "I've never met a man who could compare to Jackson," Sarah continued. "He was everything a soldier should be. He defined heroism. He was honorable and courageous."

  "Was?"

  "He was killed on a training mission in the Middle East five weeks before we would have been married."

  He rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry, Sarah."

  "You see, I also know what it's like to lose someone you love, Dr. Lemay. I loved Jackson with all my heart and I haven't stopped. What we had was rare, a once-in-a-lifetime bond." She straightened her spine, as if responding to an unheard command to come to attention. "But that has no bearing on our current situation, except to reassure you that whatever attraction might arise between you and me is superficial and means nothing."

  "Why do I have this urge to come over there and prove you wrong?"

  She stared at him, her chin lifting. "It wasn't meant to be a challenge, sir."

  "No, it wasn't
. That's what makes it worse."

  "Do you want Major Redinger to assign someone else to guard you? Because if you don't feel we can work together, I'll request to be replaced. I'm not going to let my pride stand in the way of this mission."

  The sensible thing to do would be to take her up on her offer. That would keep her safe.

  But what would her next mission be like? Rescuing a kidnapped child? Infiltrating a dictator's palace? Would she leave this assignment only to put herself in harm's way for someone else? As long as she stayed here, Hawk could do everything in his power to minimize the risk—

  Damn. He couldn't even finish that lie. His reasons for wanting her to stay weren't any more rational now than they had been yesterday. He still wasn't ready to let her go. "I don't want anyone else, Sarah. I want you."

  "Fine. Then we have to—"

  Her words were cut off when a knock sounded on the suite door. A heavily accented voice called out. "Room service."

  Hawk straightened up and pivoted toward the door. He was reaching for the knob when Sarah sprinted across the room to knock his hand aside.

  "Move back," she whispered. She squeezed herself between him and the door. "Let me check this out."

  He bracketed her waist with his hands. "I ordered dinner, Sarah."

  She put her eye to the peephole. "It appears as if it's arrived. That's the same teenage bellhop who delivered my cot yesterday." She pointed to her left. "This seems safe, but please, stand there out of the way when I open the door. I wouldn't want to hit you by mistake if I need to move in a hurry."

  He knew it wasn't the right time to argue or to indulge himself, but he was torn between giving her room to work and staying right where he was. What was it about the feel of her body pressed to his that made him want to keep her there? No, this wasn't rational at all. He spread his fingers, moving his hands to her hips.

  She twisted her head to look back at him. He could see flecks of gold in her eyes. A rosy flush tinged her cheeks. Her lips were so close to his…