“We’ve spoken quite the common language in the past,” Olivia drawled. “A sort of wordless communication, if you catch my drift. Just the kind of talk the Hawk likes the best.”
“Put her in the Peacock Room then,” Adrienne spat over her shoulder as she tugged Lydia out the door and slammed it behind her.
CHAPTER 15
THE KING MAY HAVE RELEASED YOU FROM HIS SERVICE, BUT I would never dream of releasing you from mine. You’ve serviced me so well in the past, I swear, I’m quite spoiled.” Olivia wriggled closer on the low stone bench in the courtyard resting the curve of her ripe hip against the Hawk’s muscular thigh.
Lydia had returned alone to the house a scant quarter hour after she and Adrienne had left, shooting a smug smile at her son where he reclined at the great table with the infernal Olivia. Coffee forgotten, the Hawk had quickly steered Olivia to the gardens to see what his wife might be up to. When his mother looked at him like that, well, the woman had a mind like a well-oiled catapult, deadly in the attack.
So he had strolled Olivia through the vast gardens at a breathless pace, his eyes peeled for the guards trailing his wife. Nothing. Time and time again his eyes had been drawn northward, to the flickering rim of firelight at the edge of the rowans.
“May I assume we’ll entertain each other tonight as we used to, Hawk?” Olivia’s warm breath fanned his cheek.
Hawk sighed inaudibly. “Olivia, I’m a married man, now.”
Olivia’s laugh tinkled just a bit too brightly, reminding Hawk that she was a woman who delighted in stealing another woman’s man. The more difficult the man was to obtain, the happier Olivia was. Hawk was well acquainted with her peculiar game; she enjoyed hurting other women, crushing their dreams, breaking their hearts. Hawk suspected it was a revenge of sorts; that once a woman had taken her man, and she’d never gotten over it—had become a bitter, destructive woman instead. Once he’d finally understood, he’d felt almost sorry for her. Almost.
“She’s Mad Janet, Hawk,” Olivia said dryly.
“Her name is—” He broke off abruptly. He mustn’t give Olivia any ammunition. He took a careful breath and rephrased. “Her middle name is Adrienne, ’tis the one she prefers.” He added coolly, “You may call her Lady Douglas.”
Olivia’s brow rose derisively. “I shan’t call her lady anything. The whole country knows she’s mad as a rabid hound. I hadn’t heard, however, that she was bearable to the eye.”
Hawk snorted. “Bearable? My wife is exquisite by any standards.”
Olivia laughed shakily, then her voice firmed sarcastically. “Well, and lah-de-dah! Could it be that the legendary Hawk thinks he’s in love? The roué of endless women thinks he might stop with this one? Oh, do give it up, mon chéri. It’s nauseating. I know what kind of man you are. There’s no point in affecting elevated sensibilities we both know you don’t possess.”
Hawk’s voice was icy when he spoke. “Contrary to your expectations, I am not the man I was at James’s court. You don’t know anything about me—other than the illusions you’ve chosen to believe in.” He paused a heavy moment to lend emphasis to his next words. “Olivia, there is no king here to order me to accommodate you, and I’m never going back to James’s court. It’s over. It’s all over.” The moment the words were said, Hawk’s heart soared. He was free.
“That’s all it was? You accommodated me?” Olivia demanded.
“You knew that.” Hawk snorted derisively. “I turned you away a dozen times before you went to James. Did you convince yourself that I’d had a change of heart? You know exactly what happened. It was you who petitioned the king to make me—” Hawk broke off abruptly, catching the glint of a silvery-blond mane in the moonlight a few yards from where they sat.
Adrienne approached, her arm tucked in the crook of Adam’s elbow, a splendid crimson cape thrown over her shoulders, the silk billowing sensually in the gentle evening breeze.
“Olivia.” Adrienne inclined her head.
Olivia snorted lightly and possessively grasped the Hawk’s muscled arm.
“Join us,” the Hawk said quickly, ignoring the sudden pinch of Olivia’s nails.
The thought of Adrienne walking off into the darkness with Adam did dangerous things to his head. Hawk frowned as he realized that it was likely as dangerous for Adrienne to be exposed to anything Olivia might say or do.
He certainly didn’t want the conversation to continue where it had broken off—not in front of Adrienne—without an explanation from him. He knew he had to gain control, but he had no experience with this type of situation. He’d never had an ex-mistress try to provoke trouble with his wife because he’d never had a wife before, and he’d certainly never been entangled in an encounter so rife with hazardous potential. His concern that Olivia might say or do something to hurt Adrienne unbalanced his customary logic.