Mistletoe Mistress

'For…for how long?' she got out in a painful voice. This wasn't a proposal; she could see the darkness in those beautiful blue eyes that mirrored his soul.

'Does it matter how long?' he asked softly. 'Can't we take each day as it comes and be grateful for it, enjoy each other for as long as it lasts? I don't want to hurt you, Joanne. Trust me.'

'Hawk, I've told you before-'

'I'll look after you, Joanne,' he said evenly. 'You can be as independent as you want. I'll buy you a house, car, and set up an allowance for life that will make you financially secure and allow you to follow any path you choose.'

He didn't see. He really didn't see. She shut her eyes tightly for a moment, finding it was hurting too much to look at him. She didn't want to be independent or have an allowance or be wealthy for the rest of her life. She wanted him, she wanted a home they would share together, babies; she wanted-she wanted commitment, and she wanted it to be a willing commitment, because he loved her.

'Joanne?' She opened her eyes to see him watching her, his gaze tight on her face. 'You do care for me a little?'

She couldn't deny it but in the next moment, as his mouth swooped on hers, she realised she should have, because the second their lips touched sensation exploded between them like a raging fire, taking them both by surprise. His arms had closed round her fiercely, her own going round his neck as she pulled him even nearer, and as they strained together in the dim light from the setting sun the air inside the car was electric.

'You are mine; you know this; you cannot deny us both…' His lips were possessive as he murmured against the pure line of her throat before taking her mouth again in a kiss that was all fire and savage passion, and quite different from anything that had gone before.

She knew she had to resist the tide of thrilling sensation that was washing all reason and logic away, but it was hard, so hard, when she was becoming molten in his arms. He had just propositioned her-calmly laid out the ground rules and the benefits that would apply if she agreed to become his mistress. She couldn't give in now.

But in his own way he was being absolutely honourable. An insidious little voice was hammering away in her head, doing its part to break down her defences. Wouldn't it be better to take a relationship with him on his terms and hope that it might develop into something more-that one day he might find he couldn't do without her, that he loved her?

His tongue was doing incredible things to the soft contours of her mouth as his hands worked their own magic, and the feeling that was surging through her was so strong, so new and powerful, that she could barely breathe. She knew she was kissing him back with greater and greater passion, that all her body signs were leading him on to more intimacies, that she was stupid, stupid; but she couldn't stop.

He twisted in his seat, one hand moving between her shoulder-blades and the other into the small of her back as he drew her hard against the throbbing maleness of his body, her soft breasts crushed against the wall of his chest and her head thrown back to his searching mouth.

She could hear little moans-soft, inarticulate, sobbing groans-and it was with a tiny shock that she recognised they were spilling from her own lips, that her control was quite gone. And Hawk understood what was happening to her-it was there in the guttural growl deep in the base of his throat, in the way his hands moulded her slender frame to his as she clung pliant and shivering against him.

'You want me as much as I want you…

admit it,' he murmured huskily against her flushed skin, his breathing harsh and ragged 'You want me, Joanne; say it…'

But it wasn't just wanting. She froze, the screaming warning her brain had been trying to give her for the last few minutes hitting home with savage force. She wanted him because she loved him, and that meant she wanted him a hundred times, a thousand times more than he could ever want her. Her mother hadn't loved like this-she couldn't have-because there was no way she could have gone from man to man if she had. If she couldn't have Hawk, really have him, in the only way that would keep her sane-as lover, friend, companion, husband-then she would have no one.

'Joanne?' Hawk's voice was questioning, the passion that still had him in its grip making it throaty and harsh.

'I do want you, Hawk.' From some hitherto unknown inner strength she forced herself to say what she had to say. 'I want you very much, in a way I had never imagined wanting any man.'

'Joanne-'

'No, no, wait.' She interrupted his exultant voice flatly, twisting back and away from him as she spoke. 'I know now that you ate the reason I've never wanted a relationship with anyone else, that I was waiting-waiting but without knowing why.'

'And now you do?' he asked softly, the tenor of his voice and the look on his face making it clear he knew something was badly wrong.

For a moment, just one fleeting infinitesimal moment, she contemplated preserving her dignity and pride-lying to him and making some excuse as to why she couldn't become his mistress-but she couldn't. It had to be all or nothing-she had known that from the day she met him and fought against it for as long-and so it was nothing because that was all Hawk could take. Commitment, love, sacrifice-they were just words to Hawk; he had torn the feeling that went with them out of his soul fifteen years ago.

'Yes, I've known for some time,' she said quietly, her eyes holding his and a wealth of pain at what she was about to do making them as dark as night. 'I could never become your mistress, Hawk, or your lover,' she continued quickly as he went to speak, 'because if I did it would destroy me, and probably you as well. You have your own moral code, I know that, and I don't think you would want to break someone deliberately.'

'Break you?' He drew back into his seat, his cold, handsome face straightening and his eyes taking on the piercing, diamond-hard sharpness that was so intimidating. 'What the hell are you talking about? I don't want to break you, Joanne. Damn it, you must know that.'

'I do.' She nodded slowly. 'That's the irony of it really.'

'Look, I've had enough of these riddles,' he said grimly. 'I want you and you want me, you've said it yourself, and we're two grown people, not a pair of giggling, groping teenagers,' he added bitingly. 'I've waited longer for you than I've ever waited for anything in my life, and I don't intend to wait a day longer.'

'You'd take me by force?' she asked tremulously.

'If I have to.' He glared at her, the swiftly darkening sky outside the window making him appear like a black silhouette with just the silver-blue of his eyes alive. 'But it wouldn't be by force a few seconds after I touched you, would it?' he continued relentlessly. 'We both know that Damn it all, Joanne-' his voice had become a groan as his eyes took in the whiteness of her face '-what the hell do you want from me anyway?'

'The one thing you can't give or buy,' she answered tremulously, her love for him causing a physical pain in her chest that was excruciating. 'I don't care about a house or car; don't you see that, Hawk? And I don't want an allowance, or independence, or to follow my own selfish path. I want you, all of you-I want it all. I want to live with you, care for you, have your children, grow old together. I want to know you care for me as something more than a body or an attractive appendage on your arm for parties and dinners, that when I get my first grey hairs and my body begins to sag it won't make any difference.'

'Joanne-'