aHawka"Iam nota"experienced.a The words came between the shudders of sensual tension that racked Angelas body, teaching her more than she had ever thought to know about need and pleasure. She didnat see the cold curl at the corner of Hawkas mouth or the narrowing of his eyes, his savage anger that the lies had started so soon.
When Angel opened her eyes again, Hawk was naked, swooping down on her, covering her with his body like a raptor mantling its prey. She had no time to speak or think or conceal the cry of pain that came when he took her.
Hawk froze, astonishment and hunger struggling for control of his body until his emotions exploded into a searing rage.
aYou canat be a virgin!a But even as Hawk denied it, he knew that Angel hadnat lied.
The shock of Angelas truth went through Hawk, shaking his certainties as nothing had since he was eighteen and his world had been shattered by a womanas lies.
Like a cornered animal, Hawk fought to protect himself by attacking Angel.
aHawka"a Angel said hoa.r.s.ely.
She moved reflexively, trying to ease the pressure of him inside her. The motion took control away from him, hurling him into unwanted pleasure.
ad.a.m.n you!a Hawk snarled, shuddering, raging against the release that was taking him whether he willed it to or not. ad.a.m.n you to h.e.l.l!a With a final shudder Hawk rolled aside, freeing Angel. He fought to control himself again, to absorb the terrible knowledge that Angel had not lied to him about being inexperienced. He didnat understand what had happened. He didnat understand her.
And Hawk must understand or his world would be utterly destroyed.
Again.
14.
Angel lay without moving, feeling Hawkas condemnation sink into her more deeply than steel talons. A tangle of emotions swept over hera"frustration, bafflement, pain, and finally anger, a fury so deep that it frightened her.
She had felt rage like this before. It had almost burned out all that was human in her.
Silently Angel fought for self-control, fought not to scream, fought not to curse a life that seemed to hold out the hope of happiness only to take it away, leaving her broken and struggling to survive.
aWhy?a Angel asked, not hearing her own anguish, not even hearing the single word that had pierced her control.
aThatas my line!a Hawk retorted.
His voice was as savage as his eyes. He grabbed Angelas shoulders, forcing her to look at him.
aWhy didnat you tell me?a he demanded.
aI tried,a said Angel numbly, speaking without thinking, reduced to reflex and pain. aAnd then I thought you already knew.a aHow in Christas name would I know?a Hawkas hands bit into her shoulders. aI thought you were sleeping with Derry and Carlson. You sure as h.e.l.l didnat respond like a virgin. You were as hot as anyone Iave ever crawled into bed with.a aSleeping with Derry? Sleeping with Carlson?a Angel repeated the words without comprehending them. aBut I told you. Derryas like my brother and Carlson is a friend.a aWomen lie all the time.a Silence came, silence and knowledge sinking into Angel, talons turning in her soul, tearing her apart.
aYou think Iam a liar and a s.l.u.t,a she whispered.
Angel shuddered as the knowledge went through her, breaking her as the automobile accident had once broken her.
Then the habits of self-control learned at such cost closed around Angel, holding her emotions suspended, sealing them away. She would deal with them later, when she had the strength. Right now it was enough that she didnat unravel into hysteria.
The car wreck had been beyond her control.
This wasnat.
Iam alive, physically whole, Angel told herself numbly. I made a mistake, a terrible, irretrievable mistake.
Iam not strong enough to reach through Hawkas cruelty to the hurt and hunger and human needs beneath.
a.s.suming that he has such needs.
aYou proved that you were half right, didnat you?a Angel asked, her voice quiet, as empty as her eyes watching Hawk.
The change in Angel made Hawk deeply uneasy. He had expected hysterics, cursing, screaming, sweet lies and pleading, all the usual tricks of women.
He had expected anything but the eerie, porcelain calm of Angelas face and the bleakness of her eyes.
aWhat does that mean?a asked Hawk warily, loosening his grip on Angelas shoulders.
She slid off the bed, gathering her clothes as she went.
aIt means that I feel like a s.l.u.t,a she said calmly.
Abruptly Hawk gave vent to the rage that had flared when he realized that Angel had sold her virginity to a man who didnat want it.
aWhat do you expect when you sleep with a man for pay?a he demanded.
Without a word Angel started out of the cabin. Hawk grabbed her wrist.
aCut the act, Angel baby,a he said. aYou want your quarter of the land sale and decided to ensure it in the oldest possible way. Your choice. If you had asked, Iad have told you that it was useless. Nothingas going to make me buy Eagle Head but the land itself.a aI donat want Eagle Head sold,a Angel said distinctly, her voice without emotion or depth. aDerry does.a She met Hawkas eyes. There was nothing in her look but a color that was too dark to be called green.
aI owe Derry more than a man like you could understand,a Angel said calmly. aWhen Eagle Head is sold, the money will go to Derry. All of it. But you canat believe that, can you? Your choice, Hawk.a Angel looked down at the hand holding her wrist. When she spoke, her voice was calm, empty, final.
aLet go of me.a Hawk stared at Angel for a moment before he released her. When she left, shutting the c.o.c.kpit door behind her, he found himself wanting to follow her, hold her, take the emptiness from her eyes and her voice.
He realized in that instant that he wanted to believe her, wanted to believe that there had been no hidden reason for her to smile at him, talk to him, be with him, burn for him.
Then Hawk cursed himself more savagely than he had cursed anything in a long time.
I learned all there was to know about women on my eighteenth birthday. The lesson has been reinforced many times since then. Surely Iam not stupid enough to need a complete refresher course at the age of thirty-five.
The fact that Angel didnat lie about her virginity doesnat mean that the rest of her is pure truth.
Hawk rolled over, reaching for his clothes, and saw Angelas blood still bright on his body. Emotion tore through him in the instant before he controlled it, hating himself for even that fraction of weakness.
Virginity meant nothing. All women began that way. It had just taken Angel longer than most to decide on her price.
And what was it? What was her price?
The questions sank into him like hooks, digging into him with each heartbeat, scoring him each time he tried to turn away.
If not money, what? What did Angel say about Derry? Something about owing . . .
The words came back in a rush: I owe Derry more than a man like you could understand.
Her virginity, for instance? Hawk asked himself savagely. A small swap for a big land sale?
Hawkas mouth lifted in a small, cold curl. Angel underestimated him if she thought he didnat understand. He understood very well. She was the same as the others. Nothing new after all.
And if the thought made him a little sick and very angry, that was his problem. He was old enough to know better. Old enough not to be taken in by a sweet-faced actress with sad green eyes.
The shaken pieces of Hawkas certainty settled back into place, rea.s.suring him.
Then the sound of the engines coming to life surprised Hawk all over again. He finished dressing quickly. Then he opened the c.o.c.kpit door, stepped out, and confronted Angel.
aA little late for fishing, isnat it?a Hawk asked sardonically, gesturing toward the stars visible through the portholes.
aYes.a Angel checked to see that the running lights were on before she threaded her way between the large and small boats anch.o.r.ed in the bay. Once she was free of the bay, she picked up speed, although she kept it below what she would have done in the daylight, well below what she wanted to do.
Fly. Flee. Vanish.
But those were emotions. The reality was more difficult. Angel had to make the trip to Campbell River, then to the house, then to her room.
The thought nearly overwhelmed Angel. Silently she fought the emotions that were tearing her apart.
One minute at a time. This minute.
Just this one.
aCutting short our little trip?a asked Hawk.
aYes.a aWhat about Derryas land sale?a Hawk saw the instant of emotion flicker beneath the pale surface of Angelas face. Having guessed correctly about her price made Hawk even more angry.
aWhat about all that you owe Derry?a Hawk asked.
aYouall either buy Eagle Head or you wonat.a aNo guide, no deal, remember?a aThere are other guides,a said Angel.
Her lips changed suddenly, lifting at the corner in a sardonic curl that exactly echoed Hawk.
aLike Carlson,a she suggested.
Hawkas eyes narrowed. He knew that if Angel told Carlson what had happened, the big Indian would do his best to give Hawk a personally guided tour of h.e.l.l.
At the moment the thought of an explosive brawl tantalized Hawk, promising him an outlet for the unreasonable rage that still gripped him. His certainties had nearly been shattered by a woman.
Again.
aWhat are you going to tell Derry?a demanded Hawk.
aThat we rub each other the wrong way.a aI thought you liked the way I rubbed you,a Hawk said cruelly.
Angel looked at Hawk for a long moment. Humiliation and fury made her want to deny having enjoyed his touch. But she didnat give in to the temptation. She had the rest of her life to live.
She didnat want to live it as a liar as well as a s.l.u.t.
aEveryone makes at least one bad mistake on the way to growing up,a Angel said quietly. aYou were mine.a Hawkas eyes became almost black. He asked no more questions. He was discovering that Angelas truths could be far more painful than other womenas lies.
And then he realized that she was doing it again, truth, not lies, shattering truth.
The rest of the trip to Campbell River was completed in silence, as was the ride to the Ramsey house. Derry was asleep when they arrived.
Grateful for that small comfort, Angel went quickly to the north wing, where her suite was. She neither looked at nor spoke to Hawk. He had ceased to exist for her. Nothing existed but a stained gla.s.s rose the color of blood. She held it in her mind the way a mountain peak holds light long after the rest of the world is in darkness.
Angel stripped off her clothes, dropping them in a trail that led to the shower. She stood under the hot spray for long minutes, washing herself and rinsing and washing again until her skin should have been painful to the touch.
She felt nothing, allowed nothing to reach her. She knew that the blessed numbness was only temporary. She knew that the time would come when she would have to sort out her emotions, sort out hope from truth, error from pain. A learning time.
But not yet. Just now it was enough that she get through this minute, and the next, and the next.
Angel didnat get out of the shower until the supply of hot water was exhausted. Even then she lingered until the water became unpleasantly cold. She dried herself quickly, rubbing her hair until her fingers ached.
Only then did Angel realize that she was crying silently, had been crying since she closed the bedroom door behind her. She scrubbed her face viciously.
Tears came anyway, a silent, transparent upwelling of emotion that she could not control.
Abruptly Angel threw aside the towel. She dressed in her work clothes, jeans and a blue cotton shirt. Both were faded almost white. She pulled on moccasins, combed back her damp hair, and went through the connecting door to her studio.
The north wall of gla.s.s was as black as the center of Hawkas eyes. For a moment Angel stood without moving, wondering if she had the strength to keep going.
You donat live all your minutes at once, Angel reminded herself silently. You just live the one youare in. You can make it through one minute.
You donat have to be strong for that. Just one minute. One minute at a time.
The familiar litany helped to loosen the talons digging into Angel. Her hand went out slowly. Wall switches clicked and lights came on, bringing a hard white radiance in place of darkness.
She walked in, drawn to the silent colors of gla.s.s scattered about the room. No matter what happened she had this, a wealth of colors surrounding her, a constructive outlet for emotions that would otherwise destroy her.
One minute.
Just one.
Angel took a long, deep breath and went to one of the worktables lined up beneath the fluorescent lights. Two of the tables were normal except for the thick, short-piled carpet on their surface. The third table had a translucent top. Light radiated beneath the surface, illuminating the pattern and the pieces of gla.s.s laid out on top.
Angel went to the table where light glowed. The pattern she had been working on was deceptively simplea"three jars of jelly that appeared to be sitting on a rustic window frame. Across the top of the window, like a jeweled fringe, were runners of blackberry and raspberry bushes heavy with fruit. The awindowa itself was a very pale gold m.u.f.f, a gla.s.s the exact color of late afternoon sunlight.
She could have used ordinary window gla.s.s, but she had not. She never used gla.s.s that had no color. Seeing splinters and shards of colorless gla.s.s glittering beneath hard white light brought back too many memories of the accident, of terrible pain, of death.