Blackhawk Desires: Blackhawk's Betrayal. Barbara McCauley

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Blackhawk Desires: Blackhawk's Betrayal - Barbara  McCauley

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fantasizing about for days.

      Of course, none of her fantasies had been on the floor in Clair’s office, she thought dimly. But even that didn’t seem to hinder the response she was having to Sam’s touch.

      This was so wrong, so completely inappropriate, and even that didn’t seem to stop her from wanting this. From wanting him.

      Sam’s hands tightened even more firmly on her arms; a muscle jumped at the corner of one eye. He made a low, angry sound, then dropped his mouth on hers.

      The moment his lips covered hers, right or wrong or inappropriate was no longer an issue. Nothing mattered, nothing at all, other than the feel of his mouth on hers.

      She tasted his frustration, his anger. His need. He crushed his lips over hers, demanding, insistent. Sensations ripped through her, overwhelming, intense. Her hands clutched his suit lapels, fisted. She leaned into him, into the sheer desire gripping her. Her fantasies had been nothing compared to this. Not even close. How could they have been?

      Sam jerked his head back and loosened his grip on her. “Kiera.”

      Dazed, and definitely confused, she slowly opened her eyes. His face appeared to be cut in steel, his narrowed gaze fierce. He rose, pulling her with him, then dropped his hands from her arms.

      She stared at him, struggled to gain the control that he’d so easily attained. Knowing that she’d practically begged him to kiss her, she felt like a fool.

      “I—I’m sorry,” she said, but her heart was still pounding hard, her breath still frayed. “I—”

      “Sorry I took so long.” Clair stepped back into the office, stopped short. “Oh, Sam, you’re early.”

      “I didn’t realize you were with someone.” Calmly, he bent and retrieved the frame still lying on the carpet. “I’ll come back.”

      “That’s not necessary.” Kiera felt the heat of her blush on her cheeks, watched Clair glance curiously between her and Sam. “I was just leaving.”

      “Actually, Kiera …” Clair said, her tone reserved “ … if you don’t mind, I need another minute of your time.”

      Dammit! Kiera bit the inside of her lip. As if it wasn’t bad enough she’d made a fool out of herself with Sam, she was about to get a reprimand on employee-employer relationships. “All right.”

      “Thank you.” Clair glanced at Sam. “We won’t be long.”

      He hesitated, then reluctantly turned and left the room.

      Kiera squared her shoulders and faced Clair.

      “You said you lived in a small town, didn’t you?” Clair asked.

      Not exactly what Kiera had expected Clair to say. “Yes.”

      Clair moved to the window and stared down at the pool. “Working at the Four Winds, being here day in and day out, it’s just like a small town. We all get to know each other very well. Maybe a little too well.”

      Here it comes … Kiera held her breath.

      “It’s not easy when everyone knows your business,” Clair said. “Sometimes even before you know it.”

      How well Kiera understood—and agreed with—that. But she simply nodded.

      “I realize this is an imposition.” Biting her lip, Clair turned. A mixture of fear and hope lit her eyes. “But I need to ask a favor of you.”

       Five

      Sam sat in his car and stared at the Shangri-La’s brilliant pink neon sign. Like the beat of a song, the last two letters flickered steadily, blinking in and out … LaLaLa … grating on his nerves. He tapped impatiently on his steering wheel.

      Where the hell was she?

      It was seven-fifteen, for God’s sake. He knew her lunch shift had ended almost two hours ago. On the hotel security monitor, he’d watched her walk to her white sedan in the employee garage and drive away. Even with a traffic jam—which was virtually nonexistent in Wolf River—it wouldn’t have taken her more than five minutes to drive here.

      Dammit.

      Heat lingered from the blistering day and radiated off the asphalt parking lot, cutting a sharper edge on his foul mood. You’ve gotten soft, Prescott, he told himself irritably. When he’d been in the Army, he’d run reconnaissance in a South American jungle, where mosquitoes were big enough to throw a saddle on and the humidity was so thick you could drink it. He’d lain patiently in bug-infested swamps for hours, even dodged a few bullets.

      If he could, he’d take those swamps and bullets over sitting here in this damn car, in this damn parking lot, any day.

      He swiped at the sweat on his brow, thankful he’d at least changed into a T-shirt and jeans before he’d driven over here. Even after eight years in the hotel business, he’d never completely got used to the daily suit-and-tie routine. But, like the Army, he knew it was the uniform for the job so he dealt with it.

      He glanced at his wristwatch again, was annoyed that only two minutes had passed since the last time he’d looked.

       La … La … La …

      He tapped harder, gritted his teeth, then looked up when he heard the crunch of gravel under tires. A white sedan had pulled into the motel driveway. About damn time. He reached for his keys, swore when he saw the driver of the car. Male, balding, thick glasses. Big nose.

      Wrong white sedan.

      With a heavy sigh, he settled back again, seriously considered leaving, going back to the motel and having a good stiff drink at the bar. Forget that today had ever happened.

      Right. Nothing short of death or complete amnesia could make him forget he’d kissed Kiera.

      It infuriated him he’d lost control like that. Stepped over—hell, jumped over—all boundaries. He’d been so damn careful to stay away from her the past few days. Had made a point not to speak to her, or even look in her direction, for that matter. And then in the blink of an eye, he’d blown his hard-won restraint to smithereens.

      What the hell was he supposed to do when she’d looked up at him with those sexy blue eyes? When she’d softly parted those enticing lips? When she’d swayed toward him. Walk away?

      Hell, yes.

      That’s exactly what he should have done.

      Frowning, he raked his fingers over his scalp. In spite of what some people thought, he was human.

      And stupid, he thought darkly. Not only because he’d kissed her, but because—of all places—he’d kissed her in Clair’s office.

      Clair hadn’t said word to suggest she’d seen, or suspected anything had happened between Kiera and him. But during their meeting with the Four Winds architect, when they’d been studying the blueprints for the new

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