And then she knew that he wouldnat ask her despite the need and hope burning behind his eyes.
She didnat have to condemn herself to four weeks of Hawkas contempt. All she had to do was live a lifetime knowing that she hadnat been strong enough to help Derry gain a foothold on his dream. Derry, who had given her life itself and asked for nothing in return.
Not one thing.
Four weeks of Hawkas contempt against a lifetime of self-contempt if she refused.
aItas all right, Derry,a Angel said calmly. aIall take care of it.a Derry couldnat conceal the relief that made him sag slightly against the crutches. Nor could he hide the concern that came when he saw the pallor of Angelas face. He swung his powerful body across the room until he was close enough to touch her. He put his hand on her forehead.
aYou sure, Angie?a he asked. aYou look pale and thereas some kind of flu going around . . . a Again Derry didnat finish. He wouldnat ask Angel to do something that benefited only him.
For a moment Angel closed her eyes and let her forehead rest on Derryas large palm, drawing strength from him. When she straightened, her eyes were blue-green and calm.
aIam sure,a she said simply.
Hawk sensed the currents of concern and affection flowing between Angel and Derry, and was both intrigued and irritated. He wondered what hold the charming Derry had on Angel that could compel her to shut herself up on a boat for four weeks with a man she hated.
Abruptly Hawk decided that he was going to have some answers from Angel. He hadnat misjudged a woman so badly since he was eighteen. He wanteda"neededa"to know what had gone wrong, how he had been misled. He was no longer enraged, simply very certain that he must have Angelas truths.
If Derry was the only way to flush Angel out of hiding, then Derry was what Hawk would use.
aYou havenat asked if itas all right with me,a Hawk pointed out, his voice cool.
Startled, Derry looked away from Angel. aBut you said you wouldnat mind.a aAngel and I are going to have a talk. At the end of it, either one of us may change our minds.a Then Hawk lifted his eyebrow and pinned Angel with a glance as hard and brilliant as a bird of preyas.
aRight, Angel baby?a Derryas eyes widened. It was the first time he had gotten even a hint of the whiplike quality Hawkas voice could hold. Troubled, Derry looked at Angel.
She touched Derryas arm gently, telling him without words that it wasnat the first time she had heard that note in Hawkas voice. But unlike Hawk, she couldnat back out. She loved Derry too much to destroy his dream.
aWrong, Hawk,a Angel said distinctly. aJust like youave been about everything else.a She turned and walked quickly out the door. The sound of tiny silver bells and her words floated back after her.
aWeall talk on the beach.a The whiplike quality of her voice was the same as Hawkas.
16.
As Angel scuffed into the beach walkers she always kept by the back door, she gathered gauzy folds of cloth in one hand, and set off down the trail with a speed that came from years of familiarity. She didnat notice the narrowness or the gaps where the railing had fallen and not been rebuilt.
The trail clung precariously to the face of the cliff. The path wasnat actually dangerous, unless it was wet or very windy. But it wasnat a place for children, or clumsy people of any age.
Even if the trail had been flatly dangerous, Angel would have taken it. She desperately wanted to get Hawk to a place where Derry could neither see nor overhear their conversation.
Derry, like Carlson, was very protective of Angel. It was as though having saved her life, Derry felt directly responsible for any further pain Angel suffered. He knew that it was impossible for him to protect her from lifeas bitter surprises, but the impulse was still there, buried beneath layers of rationality.
Angel blamed herself for Derryas guilt. Years ago she had accused Derry of selfishly forcing her to live just so that he wouldnat be alone. A cruel accusation, but it had been a cruel time. Now she regretted her hateful words. Now she, like Derry, had a need to protect.
She raced down the switchbacks that snaked through forest and rock to the beach below. The day was unusually hot for Vancouver Island. By the time she reached the bottom of the trail she was perspiring lightly.
The tide was out. When she let go of the hem of her dress, the breeze picked it up and pressed the supple cloth against her legs, outlining their slender length in soft rose. Folds of cloth billowed lightly behind her, creating graceful shadows over the sand.
Angel had barely taken a breath before Hawk crossed the beach and stood beside her, watching her. It didnat surprise Angel that Hawk had come down the trail with a speed to equal hers. He had the reflexes of a predator.
She turned to face Hawk. Her movement and the wind sent folds of cloth licking over him, and brought to his keen ears the tiny cries of silver bells.
Hunger raced through him, hunger and something more, something that threatened every certainty he had left. And so he did what he had always done when cornered.
Hawk attacked.
aWhat does Derry have on you? Youad as soon kill me as look at me, but youall shut yourself up on a boat with me for a month because Derry asks you to. h.e.l.l, he didnat even have to ask, did he?a aNo. I hope that Derry never will have to ask me for anything that I can give him. And he doesnat have anything on me, either,a said Angel, her voice flat.
aThen whatas his hold on you? Money?a Angelas mouth curled at one corner, a cold gesture that couldnat be called a smile.
aNo,a she said softly.
aThen what?a aSomething you wouldnat understand.a Hawkas hand fastened on Angelas arm. The softness of cotton and her flesh only infuriated him.
aWhat is it, d.a.m.n you!a he snarled.
aLove.a There was an instant of silence.
aLove,a repeated Hawk.
The word was a curse. His voice vibrated with disgust.
aThatas a womanas word for s.e.x,a Hawk said flatly, aand you sure as h.e.l.l werenat getting that from Derry. Which is the lie, Angel babya"love or that you donat want s.e.x with Derry?a Angel simply stared.
aWhatas Derryas hold on you?a Hawk demanded. aTalk, d.a.m.n you! Let me hear all your lies!a For the s.p.a.ce of a breath, Angel looked at Hawk as though she had never seen him before.
aHave you ever loved anyone?a Angel asked quietly. aYour mother? Your father? A brother? Sister? Child? Anyone?a aAre you saying that Derry is your brother?a aClose,a Angel said, meeting Hawkas cold eyes.
aHow close is close?a aTwenty-four hours.a Hawk hesitated. Angel had spoken with such conviction that he felt he should know what her answer meant.
aI donat understand,a he said finally, loosening his grip on her arm.
aI know. Thereas a lot about peoplea"and mea"that you donat understand.a aDonat push me, Angel,a Hawk said, anger tightening the already harsh lines of his face, aor Iall go ask Derry my questions and then tell him some things he really doesnat want to know.a Angel closed her eyes. She knew that Hawk would kill Derryas dreams as casually as he had killed hers. That must not happen.
aDerry came within twenty-four hours of being my brother-in-law,a she said, her voice empty.
Hawkas eyes narrowed.
aGrant,a he said. aThat was his name, wasnat it? Grant?a aYes.a aWhat happened?a aHe died.a aWhen.a The word was flat, the demand unavoidable. Angel had known it would come to this. She had prepared herself for it every step of the way down the cliff.
Maybe if I tell Hawk, he can find enough human compa.s.sion in himself not to make my life h.e.l.l for the next four weeks.
Maybe there could be a truce.
The thought gave Angel the strength to take a slow breath, to reach for the colors cascading through her mind, to make of those colors a single rose unfolding.
aGranta"a Angelas voice thinned into hoa.r.s.e silence.
She rarely spoke Grantas name aloud. The hurt of hearing it surprised her. When she spoke again, her voice was without emotion or music.
aGrant died four years ago last night, the night before our wedding. His mother died then, too. So did my father and my mother.a Hawk went absolutely still. He had no doubt that he was hearing the truth.
He would rather have heard lies. Lies can be disregarded, discarded, ignored. Truth could not. It hurt too much.
Like Angel, hurting.
He could sense the intensity of her emotions breaking over him in waves of rage and helplessness and pain. Yet her voice didnat show any of it, nor did her face. Only her eyes, haunted by shadows, the color of the sea torn apart by hidden rocks.
Her words continued calmly, relentlessly. Her eyes were dry. The tiny bells she wore shivered and cried with inhuman beauty, inhuman pain.
aI would have died, too,a Angel said, aif Derry hadnat dragged me out of the wreckage as it burned. I was badly injured. He came to me in the hospital, fought for my life harder than I did. And then he took care of me until I could walk again.a aThen why the h.e.l.l didnat you sleep with him?a snarled Hawk, angered by the deep emotion he sensed beneath Angelas calm words.
aThatas not the kind of love we feel for each other.a Hawk waited.
Angelas eyes focused on Hawk. There was nothing of comfort in them.
aI donat know if I can make you understand,a she said simply. aDerry is the only person on earth who shares my memories of growing up, of my parents and Grant and summer picnics on the beach . . . laughter and firelight and the beauty of falling in love for the first time. Derry is the only one who remembers the night Grant and I announced our engagement, the words and thea"a aWhy donat the two of you build a G.o.d-d.a.m.n shrine?a Hawk asked coldly.
He didnat question the unreasonable rage that coiled within him at the thought of Angel loving anyone.
Even a dead man.
Fury tore at Angel like steel talons. With an effort that made her tremble, she kept her voice even.
aYou are well named,a she said carefully. aBird of prey. I was very easy prey, wasnat I?a aIs that why you raced home last night? Were you afraid youad end up in bed with me again?a The harsh expression on Hawkas face steadied Angel as nothing else could have.
aNo,a Angel said quietly. aIam not afraid of ending up in bed with you again. Iave learned the meaning of the old saying about casting pearls before swine.a aIs that how you thought of your virginitya"a real pearl?a asked Hawk caustically.
aNo. But you made up for it. You were a real swine.a There was a moment of savage silence.
Then Hawk said softly, dangerously, aWhy did you give yourself to me, Angel? Because you did. I didnat take you. Or is that the lie youare consoling yourself with this morning? Poor little Angel,a he said mockingly, adone in by an experienced Hawk.a Suddenly Angel was glad for the tears that she had cried last night. It made it possible not to cry now. Deep inside herself the silent, tearing question changed from Why? to How?
How did I so badly misjudge this man?
When the answer came to her, Angel spoke it aloud without thinking, without caring.
aI thought I loved you,a Angel said. aThat was very stupid of me, I confused desire with lovea"and ended up with neither.a Hawkas pupils dilated, then narrowed to ebony points in brown eyes that were deep and clear. He said nothing, for he was too surprised to speak.
She had said love with the same mocking emphasis that he habitually used when he spoke the word. And in speaking that way, Angel had told Hawk that he had hurt her as badly as he had once been hurt.
The thought sank like a hook deep in his gut, twisting with each breath he took.
Hawk hadnat even believed it was possible to wound Angel so savagely. To be hurt like that, you must first love. But Hawk hadnat believed in love since he was eighteen.
Not for him.
Not for anyone.
aNo more questions?a Angel asked, her voice even.
Hawk said nothing. There was nothing for him to say.
aGood,a Angel said crisply. aLetas go fishing.a The controlled chill of her words rocked Hawk, angering him. His mouth tightened.
aCold as the sea, arenat you?a he asked.
Angel looked out over the shimmering, cloud-shadowed expanse of water in front of her.
aThe sea isnat cold,a she said. aIt teems with life. Iam as cold as a bird of prey. Death, not life. Do you want to go fishing this afternoon?a aIad like to break your neck.a aThat would be a pity, a Angel said, her voice indifferent as she turned to face Hawk once again. aItas about the only part of me that hasnat been broken.a Hawkas voice changed as he leaned toward her.
aIncluding your heart?a he asked softly.
aMy heart was broken long before I met you.a aAngel . . . a Hawkas voice was a warmth brushing over her temples. Emotions twisted inside her, trying to elude her control.
aDonat call me that,a Angel said tightly.
aWhy? Because he called you Angel?a aHe?a Hawkas nostrils flared. He leaned closer, so close that he could smell the delicate perfume Angel used.
aThe boy you loved,a Hawk said. aDerryas brother.a Angel turned away, hating the treacherous warmth that radiated from Hawk through the filmy caftan.
aWeall miss the tide change unless we hurry,a she said.
aAnswer me.a Angel turned back so quickly that tiny bells trembled and cried. But her voice was soft, almost too soft for Hawk to hear though he stood only inches from her.
aGrant called me Angie, darling, sweetheart, honey, love. He called me his own special sunrise, his hidden heart, hisa"a aBut you didnat sleep with him,a interrupted Hawk roughly, not wanting to hear any more.
aNo. Itas the only thing I regret about my love for him.a Angel tried to stop, but her voice went on softly, relentlessly. She was unable to halt the words even though they were shattering the peace she had so carefully rebuilt from the fragments of the past.
aMy G.o.d, how I regret it!a she said hoa.r.s.ely. aEspecially now!a Hawkas breath came in with a sharp sound. He knew that Angel was remembering her unhappy initiation at his hands.
But she was still speaking softly, so softly that Hawk had to concentrate to hear every word, feel every hook sinking into him, barbs tearing through a lifetime of scars to the vulnerable flesh beneath.
aIf I had known he was going to die, I would have made love with him.a Angelas voice shook with intensity. aBut I was young. I thought we had time. A lifetime. And Granta"a Her voice broke over his name and then reformed, empty again, controlled.
aGrant wanted the first time to be perfect for me,a Angel said. aOur own home, our own bed, every right in the world to make slow, beautiful love to each other.a Hawk closed his eyes for an instant, remembering the moment when he had taken Angel with equal parts of l.u.s.t and anger. But that moment was in the past, as irretrievable as childhood.
It was futile to shred himself over what could not be changed. All that could be changed, all that was left, was the futurea"an angel with torn wings and green eyes that had seen h.e.l.l, and a hawk that hadnat known heaven when he had pierced its warm surface with angry black talons.
Hawk put the past behind him, knowing he couldnat touch it, change it, heal it.