The Bronzed Hawk

  “Why not?” she echoed, returning his smile. “What do we do while we see if your friend’s fuel is going to keep us airborne?”

  She could have bitten her tongue as O’Brien lifted his eyebrows. His smile became wickedly mischievous. “I’m tempted to give you the obvious answer, but I’ll try to restrain myself. I think you’ve had enough of a shock for one morning.” He sank down on the floor across from her, crossing his legs Indian fashion. “Ballooning is a lazy man’s sport, Kelly. I hope you brought a good book?”

  She felt exceedingly lucky to get off nearly unscathed after the opening she had given him, and she hurriedly rummaged through her bag and pulled out a paperback thriller. “I have!” she said triumphantly, holding up the book. “What are you going to do?”

  He pulled some papers out of his own brown cowhide satchel, and leaned against the side of the gondola lazily, propping a yellow pad of paper on his knees. “I’m a puzzle addict,” he said, his brow already knitted in concentration as he gazed down at the papers in front of him. “I thought I’d try to get a couple of these deciphered while I had the time.”

  Kelly sighed resignedly. “I take it you don’t mean The New York Times crossword puzzle?”

  “What?” he looked up, his pale blue eyes absorbed. “No,” he said. “The Pentagon lets me play with some of their stuff occasionally. I find it a trifle more challenging.”

  Kelly’s eyes widened. “The Pentagon? You mean like the CIA? James Bond–type stuff?”

  O’Brien shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but it’s all pretty uninteresting. Nary a Goldfinger or Pussy Galore in the lot.”

  “Perhaps there are no Goldfingers, but I wouldn’t bet on the absence of a Ms. Galore in your circle of acquaintances,” Kelly replied. “Your track record indicates a distinct leaning in that direction. Señora Dominguez would have been right at home with 007.” Despite her attempt at lightness, there was a trace of tartness in her tone as she recalled the sultry voluptuousness of the South American woman.

  Evidently O’Brien detected the subtle undercurrents beneath the remark, for his eyes gleamed teasingly. “Yes, I suppose she would,” he said, tilting his head consideringly. “But she wouldn’t have lasted long with him. Maria is much too obvious to retain any long-term fascination.”

  Kelly tried to hide the satisfaction she felt at his careless remark. “How ungrateful of you. I gather you didn’t admire the lady for her brilliant mind.”

  “Actually, the only portion of her anatomy that I was enamored with were her breasts. The rest was strictly mediocre.”

  For a moment Kelly didn’t know whether she was more shocked at his open discussion of his former mistress or at her own resentment of his partiality for an attribute with which she was not generously endowed.

  “Personally, I think she’s a trifle overblown,” Kelly said loftily, opening her book decisively and gluing her eyes blindly to the first page.

  She heard O’Brien’s pleased chuckle. “I believe you’re right at that. I find myself definitely drawn more to quality than to quantity of late.” She did not need to look up to know that his gaze was running lingeringly over her breasts. Despite her conscientious attempt to ignore his provocative words, she could feel the pink steal up to her cheeks. O’Brien’s chuckle was triumphant.

  She purposely did not again lift her eyes, and soon she heard the rustle of the yellow pad on O’Brien’s lap. It was another ten minutes until she felt it safe to stop pretending to read. Peeking from beneath her long lashes, she stared at O’Brien’s intent face. She needn’t have been so careful, she thought ruefully. O’Brien’s attention was so concentrated on his task that he didn’t know she was in the same world, much less the same gondola. Her gaze ran lingeringly over the lean, almost barbaric beauty of his strong, well-defined features. Lord, a man had no right to be that gorgeous, she thought.

  But it was his expression that sent an odd twinge through her. She wondered if he had ever looked at a woman with that same excitement and intensity of purpose that he was devoting to his papers. Well, why should she care if there was a woman somewhere who could invoke that type of response in Nick O’Brien? She scarcely knew the man, and they certainly had nothing in common. Who could possibly be attracted to a man of O’Brien’s incredible mental powers and accomplishments? she wondered crossly. It would be like snuggling up to a master computer. So what if he was the most sexually magnetic man she had ever run across in her twenty-three years? He was a man who constantly had to be challenged, who was always making new discoveries; he was bound to become bored and restless with any woman in a relatively short period of time. No, she must take great care to guard herself against that potent charm that was already eroding her resistance and leaving her bewildered and slightly dazzled.

  Despite her stern self-admonition, for the remainder of the morning and early afternoon she found both her gaze and attention returning again and again to that quiet, frowning figure sitting tailor fashion across from her. Except for the occasions when he roused himself to check the altimeter and start the burners for short periods, he was entirely absorbed in whatever he was working on. Instead of following her stern resolve to concentrate on her novel, she found herself listening with almost maternal amusement to O’Brien’s absent mutterings and occasional chuckles of triumph. She was not aware at what point she gave up entirely, dropped the paperback, and curled up with her head pillowed on her crossed arms to gaze at O’Brien. Nor was she conscious of the exact time when her eyes fluttered shut and she fell peacefully asleep.

  THREE

  WHEN KELLY OPENED her eyes again, it was to see O’Brien sitting quietly, his pad and pen put away and his gaze on her. “Hi,” he said softly. “I’m glad you’re awake. I was getting lonely.” He stretched lazily. “How about some dinner? You haven’t eaten all day, but I figured that you needed the rest more than sustenance after your broken sleep last night. You only catnapped on the plane from San Francisco.”

  “I never sleep well on jets,” Kelly said, yawning. She sat up and ran her hand through her tousled curls. “Though I seem to have no trouble at all in balloons. It was like being rocked in a cradle. How long have I been asleep?”

  “All afternoon.” O’Brien reached for a wicker picnic hamper beside the burners. “It’s almost sundown, or I would have let you sleep longer. I didn’t want you to miss the sunset. It’s fairly spectacular up here.” He passed her a foil-wrapped sandwich and poured coffee from a thermos into a paper cup. “Cream?”

  She shook her head and took the warm cup eagerly into her cold hands. The temperature had begun to drop as evening approached, and even in her jacket, she was beginning to feel the difference. The coffee was hot, strong, and rich, and she leaned back against the side of the gondola and sighed with contentment.

  She munched happily on the ham and cheese sandwich he handed her and asked, “Did you finish your puzzle?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. But I think I’ve found the key.” He shrugged. “Once you’ve done that, it’s all downhill. I’ll have it completely deciphered by tomorrow.” He took a sip of coffee. “Most of the challenge is over after you’ve found the key.” In the fading light his eyes were oddly weary. Weary and a little lonely.

  Kelly felt a shiver run through her, and she dropped her eyes to the cup in her hand. “That’s too bad,” she said with forced lightness. “You’ll just have to find something else to amuse you, won’t you?” She noticed that he had not taken a sandwich himself. “You’re not eating. Aren’t you hungry?”

  He shook his head. “I had a sandwich earlier while you were sleeping.” His blue eyes were twinkling now. “I felt the need of something to occupy my attention while I was watching you wriggle and thrash about. Did you know that you make the sexiest little grunts imaginable while you’re sleeping?”

  She fixed a baleful eye on him. “Is that a kind way of telling me that I snore?” she asked, as she took the last bite of sandwich and crumpled the fo
il into a silver ball. “It’s very rude to watch someone when they’re sleeping.”

  He grinned. “I didn’t say that you snored. It’s more like a satisfied little purr. I found it very erotic.” He drained his cup and crushed it idly. “But you’re quite right. I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy when you were at your most defenseless.” He smiled again. “Suppose that I promise to return the favor at the earliest opportunity?”

  Kelly’s lips curved in a reluctant smile. “You’re completely impossible, Nick O’Brien,” she said, shaking her head reprovingly. “You must be really bored to bother using that lethal charm on me. I know that I’m the only woman available, but I’m certainly no Maria Dominguez.”

  A frown darkened his face, and he impatiently tossed his crushed cup back into the hamper. “You seem to be obsessed with the thought of that woman,” he said curtly. “I told you she wasn’t important.”

  “I’m very well aware of that,” Kelly said quietly. “But then I doubt that any woman is important to you for very long.” She finished the last of her coffee and carefully set the cup on the floor beside her. “I’d be a fool not to realize that after compiling a dossier on you that would have made Casanova blush.”

  “Damn your dossier!” O’Brien said with sudden roughness. He closed the hamper with a sharp snap and pushed it aside. “That has nothing to do with us!”

  “No?” Kelly raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps I find the idea of being a statistic in your little black book a trifle distasteful, Nick. I don’t think my ego would permit it.”

  O’Brien’s lips twisted cynically. “No, I can see that you’d have a problem. I’d forgotten you’re used to having your lovers dancing on your string. You like to be the one who loves them and leaves them.”

  “That’s not true,” Kelly protested hotly. “You may have time for those cute little games, but I certainly don’t. I happen to be quite serious about my work.”

  “You’ll forgive my skepticism, but I’ve only known you one day, and I’ve already encountered two of your current flames. Hell, you wouldn’t be here at all if I hadn’t decided that I didn’t like the terms of that wager your Don Juan of a boss offered you! I’d say that we’re pretty well matched as far as notches on the bedposts are concerned.”

  Mac, a Don Juan? That was as ridiculous as his assumption about her past. “You’re rather prone to jumping to conclusions, aren’t you?” She lifted her chin haughtily. “I suggest that we drop the subject. The entire discussion is irrelevant anyway. We both know that the only reason you brought me along was because I blackmailed you into it.”

  He laughed mirthlessly. “The hell you did, sweetheart. For your information, the government boys came begging to O’Brien Computers to receive one of the first shipments of the new models off the assembly line. There’s no way they would have cancelled that order because of my affair with Maria.”

  Her green eyes widened incredulously. “Then why did you let me think that I’d manipulated you into agreeing? Why am I here now?”

  He frowned. “Damned if I know,” he growled, his eyes flickering with anger and another emotion that caused a sudden surge of heat to course through her. “I sure as hell can do without the brand of voltage you generate in me, Goldilocks. From the moment that I saw you, I wanted to drag you off to bed and keep you there for a week. You turn me on more than any woman I’ve ever met.” His voice roughened sharply. “If that was all there was to it, I’d be a happy man right now, and I can assure you that you’d be a very satisfied lady. But that’s not all, damn it. You arouse emotions in me that disturb the devil out of me. I’m not used to feeling protective and possessive and murderously jealous all at the same time. I liked my life very well as it was before the appearance of one small green-eyed blond!”

  “Well, I’m sure it’s only a temporary aberration. You’ll probably not remember my name next week.” Why was she feeling so hurt at O’Brien’s bluntness? He was only stating what she’d told herself only a few hours ago. She blinked rapidly and swallowed to relieve the aching tightness in her throat. She would not cry, damn it.

  She leaped to her feet and turned her back on O’Brien to gaze blindly out at the sunset. At any other time she would have been struck breathless at the incredible beauty of the fiery crimson rays that turned the clouds below and around her into a misty pink world paved with corridors of gold. The hills and valleys of the earth below them were gowned in the cool, rich violet of early evening, but here in the clouds there was only vibrant, singing color. Kelly noticed the glorious phenomenon almost absently as she struggled to repress the thought of O’Brien’s explosive rejection.

  “I wish I could be as confident regarding that as you are, Goldilocks.” She had not heard his silent approach, but he was suddenly standing behind her. He was so close that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, and his breath stirred the curls about her ear as he spoke. “But you forget that I’m cursed with total recall. You just might turn out to be a permanent affliction.”

  Kelly could feel the breath catch in her throat as his lips brushed the curve of her ear. She could feel the electric vitality of his hard, muscular body as he shifted forward, pressing her into the side of the gondola. His arms slid around her slim waist. “Since we both agree that a serious relationship is the last thing that we want, I think we owe it to each other to dissipate the mystique, don’t you?” he asked huskily, his lips moving to her nape and brushing light, teasing kisses beneath the curly, sun-streaked ringlets.

  “I—I don’t know what you mean,” she faltered, instinctively bending her head to receive those deliciously gentle kisses.

  He chuckled. “Yes, you do,” he said softly. “I can feel you tremble in my arms. You want it just as much as I do, sweetheart, and God knows I’ve been in a fever for you since you barged into my apartment yesterday afternoon.” His hands moved up the front of her jacket and found the zipper at the collar. With one swift stroke the jacket was open, and his hands closed on her high, firm breasts.

  “No, you’re wrong!” she cried desperately. His hands were warm through the thin cotton of her shirt, and even as she spoke the words of rejection, she felt herself succumbing to the slow, gentle kneading motion. “I don’t want this,” she said weakly.

  “I love these bouncy little curls of yours,” he whispered burying his lips in her hair. “Your hair is like silky, golden fleece. I bet those curls would wind themselves around my finger and cling like a lover’s embrace if I buried my hands in them. Would they do that, Kelly?”

  “Yes,” she gasped, feeling as if her bones were melting as his hands continued their sensual massage of her breasts. “No!” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I wish you’d stop that.” She wondered bewilderedly why she wasn’t struggling to be released.

  “You don’t like it?” he asked. “I guess I’ll have to find something you do like, sweetheart.” Suddenly he stepped back and turned her into his embrace, his arms binding her soft curves to his lean, hard body. “I like this better, too,” he said hoarsely. “God, you’re so soft and sweet against me. See how beautifully you fit in my arms?”

  She did see, she thought dreamily. It seemed so unbelievably right to be so close to him. He was right, their bodies did flow together. His head bent toward her lips with the infinite slowness one would use in tempting a frightened bird to one’s hand, and when they covered her own, she found that the merging was as inevitably right as the fit of their bodies.

  O’Brien took his time with the leisurely expertise he would have employed in the tasting of a fine wine. He brushed and nibbled at her lips before taking them in a long, lingering kiss of dizzying sweetness.

  “God, wasn’t that terrific, love?” Nick murmured hoarsely. He was as breathless as she, the pulse beating rapidly in the hollow of his throat. “It’s going to be fantastic between us.” Without waiting for her reply, his lips compulsively moved back to hers. “Sweet, so sweet. Open your lips, I want to taste every bit of you, sweetheart
.”

  Oh, and she wanted to taste all of him, too, she found. Her mouth parted eagerly to invite his tongue to explore, and her own tentative probing proved almost more than she could stand. Everything about him was clean and hot and wonderfully, solidly male. She felt as if she were being absorbed in him. Her lips, tongue, and every nerve in her body responded to the molten challenge he was offering.

  She didn’t know at what point they sank to their knees on the floor of the gondola or when he pulled her across his lap to cradle her in his arms. She was too absorbed in the silky feel of his dark hair between her fingers and the rapid throb of his heart against her breast. His breathing was shallow, and he was whispering erotic praise between their passionate kisses. She could feel the muscles of his thighs tense and harden beneath her, and she was vaguely conscious of his tremendous arousal. His blue eyes were blazing brilliantly in a face taut with desire. The mouth that was driving her weak with need was beautifully soft and sensual.

  Then his hands were moving frantically at the buttons of her olive blouse and the front closure of her bra beneath it. He pushed the restricting material aside impatiently and looked down at her full, high breasts. “Damn, you’re lovely,” he said huskily, his chest moving almost painfully with the force of his breathing. His palms reached out to cup her breasts tenderly. “I was almost hoping you wouldn’t be this perfect. I didn’t want to know how delicious you would feel in my hands.” He closed his eyes, his sensitive fingertips caressing and kneading her silky softness in erotic braille.

  It was too much. Kelly felt as if each gentle stroking touch were leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Those strong, graceful hands were arousing her to a wild need that she had never known before. Her entire body was responding to that teasing manipulation as if she were a puppet and he were pulling the strings. His maddening fingers rubbed gently at a button-hard nipple, and a shudder of pure desire shook her.