Hawk felt his own mouth twitch with humor. Then Skye glanced around them surreptitiously. Assured they weren’t being watched, she surprised him by stepping close and rising up on her toes to press a kiss to his mouth before he could evade her.
She delighted in keeping him off guard. As she gazed up at him, her smile was like sunlight, radiant and warm. Hawk felt a rush of desire so strong, he wanted to reach for her and haul her close. He breathed deeply of her scent instead of the leaves, then swore silently at the strength it took to control himself and avoid getting lost in the blue, blue depths of her eyes.
When he narrowed his own eyes at her in vexation, Skye gave another chortle and danced out of reach to escape his revenge.
That evening after dinner, Isabella caught him observing Skye and commented on his chances of resisting her. “She makes you want to please her and live up to her high expectations, doesn’t she?” Bella remarked casually.
Hawk again glanced across the drawing room at Skye, who looked elegant and graceful in a dinner gown of blue silk as she played the now-tuned pianoforte in accompaniment to her cousin’s singing.
When Hawk refrained from answering the obviously rhetorical question, Bella gave him a knowing look. “I have seen Skye work her magic throughout her childhood and then adulthood. Her family adores her; so do her friends. And her suitors … I wonder if you stand a chance against her.”
“Every other poor male sod succumbs to her, so why should I be any different?”
“Yes, exactly.”
It was a fair point, Hawk conceded. He longed to wring Skye’s neck sometimes, but he also found himself wanting to linger in her company, making conversation or just simply being with her. It was not only her beauty that drew him; it was her warmth and generous nature, her undeniable charm, her liveliness, her vulnerability, her audacity, her cleverness, her optimism, and even her determination in targeting him for seduction.
“She would be very good for you, Hawk,” Bella observed.
Perhaps so. She had certainly changed his home for the better, and himself as well. He no longer wanted to seek oblivion in a bottle of brandy, nor was he the ogre she had first met, either.
As Skye met his gaze across the room, Hawk recalled her earlier question about loneliness. He had never minded being alone; in truth, since losing his family, he’d embraced a solitary existence. But he was indeed lonely, even in a roomful of people. Or at least, he had been until Skye had landed on his doorstep, blowing into his life like an autumn gale.
It was difficult to maintain that bleak feeling of loneliness, that dark, hollow emptiness, when she was near. Her vibrancy and bright laughter was a foil for his dark moroseness. Strangely, almost miraculously, he was enjoying himself with her family also, just as she’d intended. And he enjoyed her enjoyment of life.
Yes, Hawk acknowledged silently. He recognized the supreme danger in letting Skye work her special magic on him. But it was becoming harder each day to remember why he was so determined to resist her.
If Skye was frustrated by her lack of matchmaking progress with Hawk, she could at least claim victory for her uncle. Later that evening when the guests gathered around the tea tray in the drawing room, Cornelius took Rachel’s hand and led her to the mantel. Facing the company with her, he cleared his throat in order to make a special announcement.
“Ladies and gentleman, you see before you the most fortunate of men. My dearest Rachel has at last consented to become my bride.”
Wondering what had caused the baroness’s change of heart, Skye glanced at Rachel for confirmation and found her smiling shyly.
“I told Cornelius about his daughter,” Rachel admitted, “and he has forgiven me for keeping the truth from him all these years.”
Cornelius made a slight scoffing sound. “I could not understand her continued refusal to wed me, but I kept pressing and finally wore her down. Indeed, I was overjoyed to learn of my flesh-and-blood offspring.” He gazed down at Skye and Kate. “You both have been like daughters to me, but it will be good to come to know Daphne.”
Both cousins leapt to their feet to embrace their uncle with delight and even a few tears of joy.
“We are elated that you are finally marrying, Uncle,” Skye assured him.
Katharine chimed in. “And we will welcome Daphne into the family with open arms.”
Lady Isabella seemed just as delighted. “This calls for a toast in celebration. May we raid your wine cellar, Lord Hawkhurst?”
“Certainly.”
Hawk, Skye realized, had already summoned a footman and was giving orders for a particular vintage of Madeira to be brought in. Once the glasses were poured, he led a round of toasts.
Skye felt her cup of happiness running over at the tender way her uncle was gazing at his true love. Yet seeing their joy only increased her own feelings of longing. She wanted that same, wonderful happiness with Hawk—a goal that seemed just as distant as ever.
She could very well be renovating his castle for another woman, Skye reminded herself. Even so, she was sparing no effort to transform his sad house with its tragic ghosts into a home free of haunting memories. It was no small triumph that the emptiness and grief in Hawk’s eyes had vanished for the most part. He seemed less grim, for certain. And that afternoon when they’d tromped through the wooded parkland, enjoying the autumn sunshine together, she had coaxed him to let down his guard yet another degree.
For a few precious moments, he’d actually looked carefree, his normally shuttered expression transformed by the smile in his gray eyes. That rare, beautiful smile had the power to enthrall her, as did the slightest physical contact. When Hawk’s palm had pressed the small of her back to guide her down a different path, the simple gesture had sent a shock of awareness rocketing through Skye. She’d found herself remaining close, just to have another chance to feel his touch.
The tension was a sweet torment. For nearly half an hour, she’d fought the urge to throw her arms around him. And finally she couldn’t stop herself from stealing a fleeting, impulsive kiss.
Sensation had streaked through her at that brief, forbidden taste of him. Judging from the spark of fire in Hawk’s eyes, he’d felt a similar jolt.