Witchchild

‘You’re getting over-anxious again,’ she warned lightly. ‘Would you give your approval if they’d known each other three months, six months, a year, say?’ She looked up at him with excited green eyes.

He frowned. ‘Why do I have the feeling I’m being set up?’

‘Oh, come on, Hawk, answer the question,’ she cajoled.

‘Yes, I—–’ He gave an impatient shrug. ‘I suppose any of them might be more encouraging than three weeks!’

‘Twenty-four days,’ Leonie corrected. ‘I think Laura could even tell you down to the minutes and seconds if you asked her,’ she said fondly. ‘They met at the hotel Hal is managing over here at the moment, you know,’ she added teasingly. ‘There was a meeting of authors there, and Laura went along as one of the guest speakers.’ She eyed him mockingly as he scowled. ‘Thinking about having the conference facilities ripped out?’

‘Thinking about it,’ he acknowledged grimly.

‘I shouldn’t,’ she patted his hand. ‘They’ve met now. So what you’re really afraid of is that their love for each other won’t last?’ she returned to their previous conversation without any loss of the intensity of the subject.

‘What I’m really afraid of is that I seem to have lost control of this conversation,’ scowled Hawk. ‘I get the distinct feeling I’m being manoeuvred—and I don’t like it.’

She could see that, she realised he was a man who liked to be in control at all times. It was only that she wanted to make things right for Laura and Hal, and this man had it in his power to destroy the beauty of their love. ‘I wouldn’t do that, Hawk,’ she told him truthfully. ‘I’m just trying to come up with a compromise that will make everyone happy.’

‘I’d be happy if Hal never saw your sister again,’ he drawled.

‘No, you wouldn’t,’ Leonie shook her head confidently. ‘Hal could make life very uncomfortable for you if he chose to do so.’

‘I thought we’d already established that I don’t like threats.’ His eyes were narrowed.

‘Just as we established that I don’t make threats,’ she nodded. ‘I was just going to point out that Hal would naturally be unhappy—–’

‘And he would make my life hell,’ Hawk acknowledged ruefully. Even as a kid Hal had been able to make his displeasure felt. And he was definitely no longer a child. If he had been this situation would never have arisen!

If only this little witchchild would get her hands off his thighs he might be able to think straight!

The jolt his body had received when she first touched him had had very little to do with surprise, more like shock, an electric shock that had momentarily rendered him helpless. And now that his equilibrium was returning he shifted uncomfortably, his denims suddenly uncomfortably tight. He didn’t enjoy having to hide his arousal, because the woman he had been aroused by was the last one who should have evoked such a reaction within him!

Was she doing it on purpose, this little witchchild? The absolute candour in her sparkling green eyes seemed to say no.

Her fingers were lightly kneading his flesh now, and she seemed completely unaware of the turmoil she was causing inside him!

He stood up impatiently, feeling regretful as she overbalanced slightly at the abruptness of his movement, but leaving her to straighten without his assistance, knowing that he daren’t touch her right now, that to do so could be his downfall.

Instead he attacked. ‘How the hell many more cats are going to walk through here?’ The incongruousness of the question struck him as much as it must her, but he knew he just had to talk about something that would take his mind off the throbbing ache in his thighs.

Leonie sat back on her heels, eyeing him curiously. ‘How many have you seen?’

‘Three—no, four,’ Hawk corrected as he remembered the grey tabby he had seen stretched out in the hallway when he arrived.

She nodded. ‘Then there are just two more. That’s probably Daffodil and Pansy.’

‘Who the hell has six cats?’ he derided impatiently.

‘I do,’ she shrugged. ‘Daffodil, Daisy, Tulip, Pansy, Rose, and Pop. That’s short for Poppy,’ she explained. ‘I only found out after I’d named him that he was a boy.’

‘You named all your cats after flowers?’ He looked at her disbelievingly.

Her eyes widened. ‘Why not?’

Why not indeed? Someone in a professional capacity could probably give him a lucid answer to that, but it was obvious there wasn’t going to be one from this woman! Being in her company for too long was a little like being in a room with a bomb, unsure if it were active or not! She was strange with a capital S.

Then why did she intrigue him more than any other woman had for a very long time? If her sister was anything like her no wonder Hal was so enthralled with her; predictable this woman certainly was not! Boredom was always a problem with him with the women in his life; he doubted any man would have time to be bored with Leonie Brandon.

‘They’re all inside today, except Daffodil and Pansy, because of the rain.’ Leonie took his silence to mean he wanted to hear more about the cats.

And damn it, she had piqued his curiosity! ‘Why aren’t—Pansy and Daffodil in too?’ What stupid names to give those haughty creatures!

She shrugged. ‘Because they like the rain.’

A stupid question deserved an equally stupid answer. Hell, he had better things to talk about than six oddly-named cats! Or their intriguing owner, he told himself sternly. Her twin couldn’t be that innocent if she had enticed a nineteen-year-old boy into her net, but the woman in front of him, with her childlike body and guileless green eyes—how had he ever thought she could be the one involved with Hal?—was decidedly no match for the passion he would demand of her. She was probably still a virgin, and they were one breed he definitely avoided.

But an image of her kept flashing in and out of his mind, of her slender legs entwined with his, those pert little breasts crushed against his chest, the nipples nuzzling against him, her face flushed with ecstasy.

‘We were talking about Hal and your sister,’ he prompted harshly, his self-contempt at his thoughts chilling his eyes.

Leonie nodded, her bright red hair moving silkily against her cheek as she got gracefully to her feet. ‘What if they leave it three more months before coming to any decision about marriage?’

‘A year,’ he insisted instantly.

‘Six months appears to be the middle line.’ She gave him one of those guileless smiles, her eyes wide and innocent.

He had been out-classed, out-manoeuvred, at a game at which he had always been considered an expert. And all because of a pair of wide green eyes—and a taut little bottom beneath tight denims, he acknowledged self-derisively. You are getting senile, Sinclair, he berated himself, when the mere movement of a woman’s body against her clothes can distract you from your purpose!

He straightened. ‘I told you, I don’t want a gold-digger in my family,’ he snapped insultingly. ‘Six years wouldn’t be long enough for me to accept that!’

‘You may have to,’ she told him heavily. ‘Laura might be willing to accept any terms you care to make, but Hal has definite plans of his own, and he’s the one you’ll have to convince that you’re only doing this for his own good.’

She was right, this little witchchild. Hal was his son all right, and there was no way he would have stood by and meekly accepted his father’s interference in his life in this way, at any age. But he wasn’t about to let Leonie Brandon know that he realised they might all have to compromise, him most of all!

‘I’ll deal with my son, Miss Brandon,’ he said confidently. ‘And when the time comes I’ll deal with your sister too!’ He turned to leave.

Leonie followed him out of the room. Even if she had made no sound as she walked, her perfume, the elusiveness of a spring flower, told of her presence; Hawk had never been so aware of a woman’s perfume. He turned to face her all the more sharply because of that as she spoke quietly at his side.

‘I’m afraid I still haven’t introduced myself to you properly,’ she shrugged as his eyes narrowed. ‘My name isn’t Brandon, it’s Spencer.’

She was married! This witchchild was married? He glanced at her left hand, noticing for the first time the thin gold band on her finger that he had missed when he looked at her earlier. And he knew the reason he had missed it—he had been too intent on the beauty of the delicate hands, had imagined them caressing his body—Damn it, this couldn’t go on! He could have his pick of women, he certainly didn’t need to get mixed up with this strange, married one!

‘It’s what you are that matters to me,’ he ground out. ‘And as far as I’m concerned you’re just the sister of the woman trying to trick my son into marrying her!’

Leonie stood shaking her head as she watched him leave. Laura and Hal were in love, genuinely in love, and the objection of Hal’s father to that love could cause a rift between them all that might never heal.

She had to admit that she had been dismayed herself when Laura returned home, from speaking at one of the literary meetings Leonie took such pains to avoid, to drop into an armchair and dreamily sigh that she was in love. Laura had always been the level-headed one, the sensible one, and an announcement like that had to be taken seriously.

‘But he’s too young for me,’ Laura wailed regretfully. ‘A boy disguised as a man!’

A boy? Dear God, what did that mean? ‘Tell me about him,’ Leonie prompted softly.

‘He’s so tall and—and handsome.’ Laura blushed. She was her sister’s mirror image, except that her eyes were occasionally filled with an unspoken sadness. ‘He was the manager of the hotel where we held the meeting, and—–’

‘Then he can’t be that young,’ Leonie said with some relief.

Laura’s eyes rolled expressively. ‘His family owns the hotel!’

Leonie became suddenly still. ‘He’s one of the Sinclairs?’ Everyone had heard of the multi-millionaire family!

‘Son of the Sinclair,’ her sister nodded, her dismay reflected in sea-green eyes. ‘Oh, Leonie, he’s young, so much younger than I am, but when he looked at me I knew I loved him. And he said he felt exactly the same way!’

‘You talked to him, then—–Of course you talked to him,’ Leonie chastised herself for her stupidity. ‘Otherwise how would you know his name?’

‘He said he’s coming to see me tomorrow night,’ Laura groaned. ‘That we should start discussing our wedding plans!’

‘He said that?’ Leonie gasped at the speed with which the relationship had progressed. When Laura had left this evening she had been heart-free, yet a few hours later she was obviously deeply in love.

‘Yes.’ Her sister blushed again. ‘Oh, Leonie, he asked me to marry him!’

And he had continued to ask every day since that evening three and a half weeks ago!

Leonie had liked Hal instantly; she had found him not to be the boy Laura had led her to believe, that he had been a man for some time, possessed of a confidence that had been inborn in him. And he was obviously deeply serious about his feelings concerning Laura, spending every moment that he could with her.

Hawk Sinclair wasn’t going to find it at all easy to ‘deal with’ his son!

Hawk’s temper hadn’t cooled in the least by the time he returned to the penthouse suite of the hotel.

Jake Colter, his assistant and friend for the last fifteen years, looked up from the contracts he had been working on, his blond brows rising over laughing blue eyes as Hawk let out a bellow for Sarah, his private secretary. ‘How did the meeting with the mercenary author go?’ he drawled.

Hawk’s scowl deepened. ‘It didn’t! Sarah, where the hell are you?’ he bellowed again.

The elegantly calm woman who had organised his business life for more years than he cared to think about emerged from her bedroom that adjoined the lounge, not at all perturbed by the chaos Hawk seemed to have brought back with him. After ten years she was probably used to it!

‘Yes, Hawk?’ she prompted softly; a beautiful woman, she usually knew what he wanted before he did.

It had been her complete efficiency at her job that had thrown him into a panic four years ago when her marriage began to flounder and she had considered the idea of leaving her job to see if that might stop her husband jumping into bed with every woman who so much as smiled at him. Knowing her husband as he had, Hawk hadn’t believed anything would stop him playing around with other women, but he hadn’t tried to interfere; he knew that if Sarah loved Paul she should stay with him. However, he had been very supportive when she decided to divorce the bastard after finding him in her own bed with a woman she had thought was her friend. He hadn’t been averse to using a little of his charm to persuade her to stay on with him either, after she had voiced the possibility of perhaps making a completely new start; he knew that he would never be able to find a more efficient secretary, wining and dining her until she agreed to stay on.

But for once her cool control irritated him. ‘Find out all that you can about a Leonie Spencer—Mrs Leonie Spencer,’ he added grimly. ‘Especially anything about Mr Spencer. She lives in the wilds of Buckinghamshire,’ he supplied absently. ‘I want to know everything there is to know about her, and I don’t care who you have to disturb on this English Sunday afternoon to get it,’ he warned harshly.

‘Will that be all?’ Sarah arched blonde brows.

‘Yes!’ Hawk glared at her. ‘Damn woman,’ he muttered once he was alone with Jake.

‘Who, Sarah?’ his assistant mocked disbelievingly.

Grey eyes raked over him mercilessly. ‘Why do I keep you on the pay-roll?’

The other man grinned. He possessed the type of fair-haired good looks that had caused more than one female to bemoan the fact that he was determined to remain a bachelor since his divorce sixteen years ago. ‘Probably because I’m a damned good assistant,’ he drawled.

‘Oh yeah,’ Hawk acknowledged dryly. ‘I knew there had to be some reason why I put up with you!’

Jake’s grin widened. ‘You’re just put out because the woman on the plane last night offered me a date instead of you.’

Hawk gave the other man a scathing look. ‘So that’s why your bed wasn’t slept in last night! I should watch it, my friend,’ he drawled, remembering the over-familiarity of the beautiful brunette on the plane; it was far from the first time she had picked up a man in that way! ‘You expose yourself to—all sorts of dangers that way,’ he added derisively.

‘Ouch!’ Jake grimaced, putting the contracts to one side. ‘So your meeting with the author didn’t work out,’ he remarked thoughtfully. ‘Don’t you think, in this day and age, especially with two old reprobates like us as an example, that perhaps you should be grateful Hal just wants to marry a woman you don’t approve of?’

‘I think that if Stephen came home and told you he intended marrying a woman he’s only known three weeks, a woman who’s older than him, you’d react the same way I did,’ Hawk grated.

Jake shrugged. ‘I can think of plenty of worse things he could come home and tell me.’

‘Maybe,’ Hawk accepted grudgingly. ‘Maybe I should have made Hal go to college with Stephen instead of giving in to him when he said he wanted to learn the business by experience. They always got on well together, and Stephen might have been good for Hal, stopped him growing up quite so quickly.’

When Jake had come to work for him fifteen years ago he had just been awarded custody of his five-year-old son after his divorce, and with Hal being a similar age the two boys had gravitated to each other from the first. Their friendship was probably as deep as his and Jake’s was. The two young men were opposites, Stephen always getting into mischief, and usually taking Hal along with him. Yes, maybe he should have insisted Hal attend college rather than going straight to work. But it was too late for that now.

‘He seems to be doing all right,’ observed Jake.

‘Too well,’ Hawk scowled. ‘Why the hell he wants to tie himself down with a wife I have no idea.’

‘Because he loves her,’ Jake suggested softly.

Hawk gave a disbelieving snort. ‘He thinks he loves her,’ he corrected firmly. ‘And I object to being called an old reprobate,’ he added suddenly, and Jake grinned at his ability not to forget anything that was said to him. ‘The reprobate was fine, but I’ve already had enough aspersions cast on my age today without you starting too. How could anyone feel anything else but old after being in Leonie Spencer’s company for half an hour?’ he added disgustedly. ‘Her mind leaps from subject to subject without giving any indication that you’re now talking about something completely different! And even when she’s sitting still you get the impression she’d rather be on her feet and moving. She is definitely not a relaxing person to be around!’

‘Sounds familiar.’ Jake looked at him pointedly.

‘Very funny,’ snapped Hawk.

‘Who is Leonie Spencer?’ Jake asked slowly. ‘I thought you went to see a Laura Brandon?’

‘Leonie Spencer is an infuriating, provoking, kooky—–’

Jake whistled through his teeth. ‘Whoever she is, she made quite an impression!’

‘About as much as a puppy-dog chewing at my pants leg,’ Hawk replied. ‘She has six cats. Six!’ he repeated disbelievingly.

‘Shocking,’ Jake taunted.

‘Stop being so damned—–Sarah,’ Hawk pounced as she came quietly back into the room, ‘what did you find out?’

‘Mrs Leonora Spencer lives at—–’

‘I know her address, damn it!’ He glared at her.

Blonde brows rose over reproving blue eyes. ‘She’s twenty-five years old,’ Sarah continued undaunted. ‘Her parents were killed years ago in a car accident. She has one sister, her twin, Laura Brandon—–’

‘Ah,’ Jake nodded comprehendingly, shrugging as Hawk gave him a quelling glance.

‘Laura Brandon,’ Sarah continued determinedly. ‘Leonie was married at twenty to Michael Spencer. The marriage doesn’t appear to have been a success—–’

‘Was he rich?’ Hawk cut in suspiciously.

Sarah glanced at the notes she had made. ‘It says here he was a clerk in a—–’

‘Not rich,’ drawled Jake.

Hawk scowled as the theory of Leonie having married for money too was taken away from him. If only he could find something to dislike about the woman!

‘Shall I go on?’ Sarah enquired coolly.

‘Sure,’ he instructed tersely, ignoring Jake’s smile of amusement.

‘The marriage lasted only a short time—–’

‘They’re divorced?’ Hawk interrupted sharply.

‘It would appear so,’ Sarah nodded.

‘Any children?’

‘None were mentioned,’ said Sarah in her usual precise way that was somehow managing to annoy him deeply today. ‘Leonie co-authors books with—–’

‘Thanks, Sarah,’ he cut in dismissively. ‘I know the rest.’

She shrugged, sharing a puzzled glance with Jake before returning to her bedroom to continue working.

‘Divorced,’ murmured Hawk triumphantly, suddenly realising he no longer needed a reason to dislike Leonie Spencer, none that need matter to them. Hal and Laura were completely separate from this. ‘Jake, my friend, I’m going out again,’ he announced determinedly.

‘Am I allowed to enquire where?’ the other man drawled.

He grinned. ‘I’m going to show a woman, who believes a man of my age must be suffering from a mid-life crisis, just how wrong she is.’

‘What?’ Jake was astounded by his explanation.

‘You heard me,’ said Hawk with satisfaction. ‘And, Jake—–’ he paused at the door.

‘Hm?’ The other man still looked dazed.

‘Don’t wait up,’ he advised softly.

CHAPTER ONE

‘THREE more months of this torture!’ Laura bemoaned with a heavy sigh.

Leonie gave a grimace of sympathy from her position on the adjoining lounger, knowing Laura had just finished reading a letter from Hal. ‘Try not to think of it as a life sentence,’ she encouraged gently.

Her sister frowned at her. ‘How can it be any other way when I love Hal so much?’

‘Darling, you were the one who agreed to the year’s wait,’ Leonie reminded her softly. ‘Said you wanted to give Hal time to be sure too.’

‘I know,’ Laura gave a choked sigh. ‘But how could I know Hawk Sinclair was going to make sure Hal was out of the country most of the time!’

Leonie gave a pained frown. A year, Hawk Sinclair had asked Hal and Laura to wait, assuring them that if they really did love each other it would pass quickly. As she had known he would, Hal had raised strong objections to the idea, wanting to marry Laura right away, but Laura had told him that perhaps it would be better if they waited, so that they could be sure of their feelings for each other too.

Leonie had always known Laura wouldn’t object to anything Hawk Sinclair asked of them, but Hal had been hurt by what seemed to be Laura’s indecision about their love, storming out on all of them after accusing Laura of believing he was still a child too!

He had come back, of course, as soon as he calmed down enough to realise Laura wouldn’t change her mind and marry him straight away as he wanted, and with both Laura and his father against the idea of an instant marriage he had finally agreed to wait the year.

It hadn’t been too bad at first. Laura and Hal had seen a lot of each other, but then his father had begun to send him to other hotels that they owned for weeks at a time, straining their relationship as he and Laura had to rely on telephone calls and letters to tell each other of their love.

Hal had been in Acapulco for over six weeks now, and those weeks had been difficult ones for her sister, Leonie realised. Laura was thinner than she used to be, fine lines of strain around her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

All this pain and suffering because Hawk Sinclair had decided to play God with their lives!

Leonie didn’t doubt that Laura would still want to marry Hal at the end of the year’s wait, or that Hal would feel the same way, in fact the two of them had already started discussing wedding plans.

Leonie’s illness hadn’t helped Laura’s peace of mind; the emergency operation she had gone through had been frightening for them both, and the weeks she had spent in hospital had left her still feeling weak and far from well. Laura had taken complete control during the crisis, and was still doing so several weeks later. Today she was having to go alone to their publisher to explain why the book he was waiting for from them still wasn’t finished.

‘Are you sure you’re going to be able to handle this meeting with Desmond on your own?’ Leonie frowned her concern.

Laura grinned. ‘I know you usually walk in and totally disarm the poor man, but I’m afraid that today he’s going to have to make do with me!’

Leonie’s mouth quirked. ‘You could always pretend you’re me!’

‘Darling, much as I love your idiosyncrasies, there is no one else like you!’ her sister teased. ‘Are you going to be all right here on your own?’ She frowned her concern.

‘But I’m not alone,’ Leonie shrugged dismissively. ‘We have June to take care of us now.’ She mentioned the woman in her mid-forties they had employed to take care of the cooking and housework now that she felt too weak to do it and Laura was too busy taking care of her.

‘Call her if you need anything,’ Laura directed firmly. ‘You’re still far from strong. The doctor said you were to take things very easy.’

Leonie looked down ruefully at the cat curled up on the bottom of her lounger, Pop stretched out on her legs from knee to thigh. ‘I think I’m about as relaxed as I can be,’ she drawled. ‘The sun’s out, there’s a gentle breeze, the jug of fresh lemonade’s within easy reach.’ She looked pointedly at the table beside her on the lawn. ‘I certainly don’t envy you your trip into London.’