Helen Brooks - Mistletoe Mistress

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-'

'No, listen,' she said fiercely. 'You listen to me. I don't want to have to wait for the phone to stop ringing, or worry about who you're with or what you're doing when you aren't with me. I couldn't live like that , don't you see? I want you to love me like I love you, and you can't, you can't,' she finished on a sob that almost choked her.

'You don't know what you're saying.' But his voice was shaky and he was perfectly still, the last glow from the dying sky outside the car windows strangely poignant to the moment.

'I know, Hawk.' She drew herself up proudly. 'I love you, hard as I know you'll find that to believe. And perhaps another woman could love you and still accept that the way you want it is the way it has to be, but I can't. I don't want you for a few months or a few years, I want you for ever, and to tell you anything different would be a lie. You've told me you always want the truth and that's the truth.'

'You're telling me you want a ring on your finger before you share my bed,' he stated flatly.

Joanne's face went still whiter but she forced herself not to flinch. 'No, that would be blackmail and quite useless with most men, let alone you,' she said shakily, willing the storm of emotion that was threatening to tear loose from the very core of her to be still. 'In fact if you asked me to marry you I would say no,' she continued bravely. 'A ring or a piece of paper means nothing if that's all it is, and it would be with you, I know that.'

'Then what the hell do you want?' he ground out savagely.

'I want you to let me walk out of your life,' she said tautly. 'No recriminations, no bitterness, just a simple goodbye. And…and I want you to look around for another manager at Bergique & Son's. I'll…I'll stay till you've found someone else, of course, but then- Then I want to go.'

'You're telling me on the one hand that you supposedly love me, and on the other that you want to run out on me?' Hawk bit out with a fury that stunned her. 'What the hell sort of love is that?'

'My sort,' she said quietly, lifting her chin as she spoke.

'Then it stinks.' He grasped her shoulders, jerking her towards him. 'If you love someone, you're supposed to want to be with them,' he growled angrily.

'How would you know?' Suddenly there was hot molten rage flowing through her veins and she welcomed it, its cauterising power sealing her bleeding heart and allowing her to throw off his hands with an anger that matched his.

'I know.' He was breathing heavily, his eyes flashing blue fire. 'I was in love once, a lifetime ago, and I wanted to be with her but she had other ideas.'