Magnificent Passage (24 page)

The food and the tub arrived at the same time. James backed out of the room, leaving Hawk to guard their precious cargo.

“I'll see you two in a few hours,” James called through the door as he headed to his room.

With an exhausted sigh, Mandy turned toward Hawk. “Would you unfasten me before you leave?” She pulled aside her heavy mass of hair and presented Hawk her back so he could work the buttons.

“I'll unfasten you,” he replied, “but I'm not leaving.” A slight smile curved his lips, and she guessed he was punishing her, still angry about the Spaniard.

“What do you mean
not leaving
? You can't expect me to . . . to . . . I'm not going to take a bath in front of you!”

“You forget, little one, you already have.” His brown eyes mocked her.

Mandy eyed the steaming tub and its mounds of snowy bubbles and looked beseechingly up at the big man. “Please, Hawk,” she cajoled.

Relenting just a little, he turned his back. “I won't look while you get undressed, but I won't leave.”

Mandy hesitated. The tub looked so inviting. She knew Hawk had conceded all he was willing. Either she got into the water now, or skipped the bath altogether. Hurriedly she undressed and slipped into the gleaming copper tub, piling her hair on top of her head.

“Would you toss me the comb in my satchel?” she asked. If he were going to remain, he might as well be of some help.

Smiling smugly, as if enjoying himself immensely, he moved closer, handing her the tortoiseshell comb, which she used discreetly to secure her unruly mane. Mandy already regretted her impulse to get into the tub. She should have gone to bed dirty.

“You're a mighty fetching sight, Miss Ashton,” he teased.

“You said you wouldn't look.”

“I said I wouldn't look while you got undressed,” he corrected. “I wouldn't have missed this for the world.” Hawk sat down on the bed and looked askance at the lovely girl. She'd moved as low as she could in the tub, and the bubbles protected her modesty, but two dark spots colored the bubbles just beneath the surface. Beads of water glistened on her shoulders, reminding him of rose petals after a rain. Her graceful neck arched above her shoulders, perfectly complimenting her heart-shaped face. Hawk felt a sudden pain in
his chest and a tightening in his groin. He clenched his jaw, resentful of the power she held over him. He wished there were some way he could make her suffer some of the pain she gave him.

“Did your Jason get this privilege?” he couldn't resist asking, knowing he had her at his mercy.

“Jason was my fiancé, not my husband,” she answered with a controlled calm, staying in character. “You have seen far more of me than he ever has.” Mandy clothed the lie in a truth. She found herself thinking of the word
husband
for the first time in her life. By now her cousin Julia would be happily married to a wonderful loving husband. She felt a twinge of envy for her once-black-sheep cousin in her new role as wife.

Hawk's eyes raked her. “You aren't going to pretend you're a virgin, are you?”

Mandy blushed to her toes. Surely he couldn't think Julia a harlot? What had her cousin done to deserve that? A niggling memory of stories she'd heard pushed its way to the front of her mind. Maybe . . . or maybe it was the way she had responded to his kisses. A nice girl would have slapped him for the liberties he'd taken. Look at what she was doing right now! Sitting naked in a tubful of water—even bubbly water—was against every rule of proper deportment. No wonder he thought she was a . . . a . . . oh, God, she couldn't even say the word.

She swallowed hard. “Hawk . . . I know what you must think of me after the way I acted when you kissed me . . . I mean I . . . ” She tried to find the words. “I don't understand it myself. I've never done anything like that before.”

A short laugh was his response.

“Who do you think you're kidding? You knew exactly what you were doing.” Hawk's mind conjured unwanted images of the warm, pliant woman who responded to his every touch. “You weren't thinking of your precious Jason.”

Tears of shame filled her eyes.

“Get out of here, you . . . you . . . ” She wanted to slap his arrogant face again. “You're the most heartless man I've ever known. At least do me the courtesy of leaving while I finish my bath.”

Rising from the bed, his mouth set in a hard line, Hawk left the room. He slammed the door behind him and turned the key in the lock. How did she always manage to make him lose his temper? He'd had no intention of fighting with her when he'd stayed in the room. He was just evening the score a little. Standing outside, he could hear her gentle sobs and cursed himself for his rash behavior. Now he'd have to take her to dinner, or his conscience wouldn't allow him to enjoy himself later on.

His mind returned to the pretty picture she made in the tub. He could see her silky skin, her eyes snapping with fire. He smiled ruefully. Sally had better be ready for a long night tonight.

M
andy finished cleansing the grime from her body, washed her hair and her tear-stained face, and rose from the tub. Lying exhausted across the soft featherbed, she wondered how fate could have been so cruel as to have thrown her at the mercy of these two. Vaguely she hoped her cousin's happiness would be worth it.

She had to admit Julia had been right about one thing. She'd grown to enjoy part of her charade. Being reckless and carefree had its advantages. The girl who had buried herself behind a proper facade at the fort no longer existed. She'd been replaced by an outspoken young woman not so easily pushed around. Clearing her mind of unpleasant thoughts, she finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

Several hours later, an incessant pounding at the door awakened her. “Who is it?” she called out timidly, wiping the sleep from her eyes. She'd learned in Great Salt Lake City that it paid to be cautious.

“Get dressed. We're going to dinner,” came Hawk's brusque command from outside her door. “Wear the gold one.”

Mandy had no time to answer before she heard his heavy steps recede down the hall. Unsure whether to be excited
by the turn of events or wary of this new tactic, she hurriedly began to dress.

She swept her hair up off her neck, again using the comb she'd found among the clothes Hawk bought, and tried to create as sophisticated a style as possible. She slipped into a fresh chemise, donned corset and petticoats, struggled into the glittering beaded gold gown, then pulled the bell rope for a lady's maid to do up the buttons.

As the girl left the room, Mandy glanced in the mirror and felt the color rush to her cheeks. The gown was daringly low cut, showing more of her ample bosom than she ever would have dared. But Hawk said wear it, and wear it she would. Secretly she hoped it drove him wild with desire for her. It would serve him right for his arrogance this afternoon. She was bending over the bureau to retrieve the matching fan when she heard another knock at the door, this one a little more genteel than the last.

Mandy moved to the door nervously. “Come in,” she almost whispered.

The key turned in the lock and a tall, broad-shouldered man dressed in well-fitting breeches and a black evening jacket over a crisp white shirt strode into the room.

“Hawk! Is it really you?” She eyed the handsome figure from top to bottom. He looked every inch the gentleman. She had been certain if he ever wore anything more formal than his buckskins, he would have looked foolish. But here he was, perfectly at ease. He moved as though he'd worn these clothes every day of his life. The notion galled her a little.

“You look very handsome,” she admitted softly, feeling suddenly shy.

Hawk enjoyed the girl's confusion immensely. Secretly he thanked Thomas Rutherford for the ten-thousandth time. His gaze swept over her. She was elegantly gowned in the richly beaded gold satin dress he'd purchased. It fit perfectly, hugging her tiny waist and flaring in a sweeping line to the floor. He assessed the exquisite picture she made, savoring every detail. The gown exposed a great deal more of her bosom than he had expected—only the rose-colored peaks were hidden from his view.

He felt the blood pulse through his veins. If he'd known what affect the dress would have on him, he never would have bought it.

“And you, dear lady, look ravishing. But then I wouldn't have expected anything less from the governor's daughter.” Hawk's eyes swept her again, and Mandy knew he meant the somewhat backhanded compliment. He offered her his arm, and she accepted it with a tiny tremor.

They left the room and headed down the broad hallway, the magnificent gilt sconces flickering a soft light over them as they moved gracefully into the salon.

The gaiety in the crystal-chandeliered room was contagious. James had declined to join them, so she and Hawk were dining alone. A black-clad, stiffly formal maître d'hôtel seated them at an intimate candlelit table. Gold-flecked walls and huge potted palms stylishly completed the room. Mandy was heady with delight. This was turning out to be the most wonderful night of her life.

Hawk ordered champagne, which Mandy had never tasted—though she couldn't admit it—and she loved it. The golden liquid caressed her tongue like sweet dew. The
bubbles tickled her nose. She found herself constantly blushing and glancing away at the intensity of Hawk's gaze.

After dinner, a small group of musicians played.

“May I have this dance, Miss Ashton?” Hawk asked, standing and extending his arm.

Dazed, Mandy rose from her seat and stepped out onto the floor, surprised the rugged man knew how.

He guided her lightly, expertly, never missing a step. She floated gracefully with his every movement. She had danced with the soldiers at the fort, but the men were clumsy and she uncomfortable. This was like floating on an organdy cloud.

“How is it, Mr. Langley,” she teased, “that you wear a suit and dance the waltz as easily as you sit a horse and hunt wild game?” She felt Hawk's strong hand surrounding her waist, and her heart thumped loudly. He drew her just a little closer than proper as he whirled her around the floor, and the smell of musk, tinged lightly with champagne, filled her senses.

Hawk smiled at the girl's unintentional compliment and, as the dance ended, escorted her from the floor. He seated her and himself, then began to answer her question, the alcohol easing his task.

“When I left the Cheyenne, I made my way to St. Louis to find Thomas Rutherford, the man I mentioned before. He welcomed me into his home as if I were his own son. I had a tough time of it at first. Nothing I did seemed to turn out right. Not long after I arrived, he gave a formal dinner party—something he'd already planned and couldn't avoid. He insisted I attend. Said I belonged there just as much as
he did. He bought me the right clothes and helped me with my manners.

“By the time dinner was served, I was so nervous I could barely think. I forgot my lesson on the proper use of the company silver and picked up the meat with my fingers.” He smiled ruefully at the memory. “The whole table gasped and Mrs. Haddington, one of Thomas's best clients, almost had apoplexy. But Thomas stood by me. He looked Mrs. Haddington straight in the eye and picked up his own meat with his fingers. I guess I loved him from that moment on.”

Mandy's heart went out to the big man. He always seemed so confident, so self-assured. His eyes revealed the love he felt for the man who had taken him in. How she wished he looked at her with that same loving gaze.

“The man had infinite patience,” he was saying. “He retaught me to speak proper English, hired private tutors to teach me everything from reading to the arts—even how to waltz,” he added teasingly.

Mandy was having trouble concentrating on his words. She could feel his gaze caressing her. She longed to touch the line of his jaw. A memory of warm, firm lips lingering over hers played on her heart. Her eyes strayed to a corded muscle along his neck. She wanted to run her fingers through the soft hair curling against his collar.

“I worked hard on Rutherford's farm,” he said. “But I never felt I belonged there any more than I did the Cheyenne village. I stayed a few years, then left to come west. I'll never have the chance to repay the debt I owe him.”

She caught a flash of regret before his smile slipped into place, and felt another pang of sympathy for the man who
moved easily in both the Indian and the white world, yet belonged to neither.

Another waltz began, and they rose to dance again. This time he held her even tighter. By the time the dance ended, she glistened with a light sheen of perspiration wherever Hawk touched her.

“You realize I'm the envy of every man in the room,” he said, flashing her a boyish grin.