Free On Wings of Magic by Kay Hooper

few items in her wardrobe that
weren’t
sexy. A weakness of hers—although not intended for seduction. Kendall just liked nice things. And since she rarely got the chance to wear them…
    The dress was black. It was stark, unadorned by frills, and covered her from the neck to the ankles. That was, in front. The skirt was slit on one side almost to the waist, and her back was bare past the flare of her hips. It was impossible to wear anything under the dress, and the fact that she didn’t was obvious.
    Her sandals were also black, high-heeled, and difficult to walk in unless she was careful. Her only jewelry was a charm bracelet made of fine silver and filled with charms from all over the world. A small black clutch purse completed the outfit.
    She checked Gypsy’s food and water, sternly toldthe cat not to stray from the room (she was quite adept at opening unlocked doors), and then went into the sitting room. Almost immediately a cheerful knock sounded on the connecting door.
    “Ready, Cinderella?” Hawke called through the door. “It’s time we were off to the ball.”
    Composure intact, Kendall opened the door and stared at him. “Which of us turns into the frog at midnight?” she asked wryly.
    “Neither of us.” Resplendent in a black dinner jacket, Hawke placed a hand upon his chest and bowed mockingly. “My fairy godmother is lenient about such things. We have until dawn.”
    “And then?”
    “And then we make our own magic.”
    Kendall sighed, trying to ignore the fact that her heart was beating alarmingly fast. “I hate to burst your bubble, but this is not a storybook romance.”
    “Want to bet?”
    She stared into gray eyes shot with silver and felt the hard-won composure slipping. “I’m—shouldn’t we be going?” Hastily, she turned and started for the door of her suite, then heard a choked sound behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she found that Hawke was staring at her with a peculiar expression.
    “My God,” he muttered, “That thing’s lethal!”
    Kendall felt a short burst of triumph that she’d finally jarred
his
composure a bit, then realized that her revealing dress was somewhat comparable to waving a red flag at a bull. Not daring to respond to his statement, she preceded him quietly out into the hall, and watched while he closed and locked her door.
    He led her down the hall to the elevator, his handpossessively cupping her elbow, and Kendall hastily squashed her momentary alarm. Surely he wouldn’t try anything in the elevator again. Twice would be a habit, for God’s sake!
    Hawke was forming some very odd habits.
    No sooner had the doors closed behind them than he drew her into his arms abruptly. Kendall had no chance to fend him off and, truth to tell, little strength to do so. Her traitorous body molded itself instantly to the hard length of his. But she did manage a moan of protest just before his lips covered hers.
    And that, as the man said, was that. The protest was a small sop to her conscience, and left her body free to experience these delightful sensations.
    His hands were hard and warm against her bare back, his lips demanding—and receiving—a response. Mindlessly, Kendall felt his tongue probing the sensitive inner surface of her lips, and a shiver of helpless desire coursed through her body. She felt one of his hands move around and begin to creep up her rib cage, and then there was a quiet swish, and someone cleared his throat.
    Vaguely disappointed that his hand had not reached its destination, Kendall opened her eyes slowly to watch his head moving back. Sanity returned in a rush as he released her, and she glanced at the elevator doors to see two men smiling at her apologetically.
    Heedless of the listeners, she snapped at Hawke, “Dammit! If you do this to me again …!”
    “Temper, temper.” He grinned at her, apparently undisturbed by the embrace. But Kendall could seehis eyes only just losing their glazed appearance, and knew that he wasn’t