Free Love on Trial by Diana Palmer Page B

tone. “I’m here working on a story, of which Hawke is part. That’s all. Period. I am not available for fun and games for bored playboys!”
    â€œPlease, Siri, you misunderstand…!” Rey began quickly, his face going rather white at the tone of her voice.
    â€œI don’t think so,” she told him, rising. She moved back to where Kitty was sitting and squeezed in beside her, leaving the stunned Latin behind her.
    Hawke glanced toward her, then toward the glass she was holding, and she read the amusement in his dark eyes. It made her flush uncomfortably. I’m not tipsy, she wanted to yell at him. In defiance, she lifted the glass to her lips again.
    â€œHaving trouble, honey?” Kitty whispered, squeezing her hand.
    â€œNot any more,” she replied smugly, and finished the rum punch while the others sailed forth on the subject of ships.
    Â 
    Rey left soon afterwards with a really wounded look about him. Siri half regretted what she’d said, but not that she’d said it. She didn’t have time to fight off an amorous Latin in whom she wasn’t really interested.
    If she’d been hoping for an early departure, her hopes were doomed to disappointment. Angel insisted that the small group stay for a meal. She had her combination housekeeper-cook busy in the kitchen before anyone could protest.
    Siri hated the ordeal of watching Angel smother Hawke. She hated even more the fact that he didn’t seem to mind her attentions. It went from bad to worse when the little Spanish woman turned on her expensive stereo system and flooded the room with soft, seductive music. She threw back the carpet and invited the others to dance, pointedly ignoring the fact that Siri didn’t have a partner as she glued herself to Hawke’s broad body.
    Randy, a gentleman from the shoes up, asked Siri to dance, but she quickly shook her head with a convincing smile.
    â€œOh, I don’t dance,” she said quickly, “but thanks all the same.”
    She dodged the incredulous look Hawke threw her over Angel’s bareshoulder and curled up on the sofa with a magazine about the latest fashions. Did Angel have to dance that close to him, she wondered, darting a green glance their way. Did she have to press so close, and tangle her hands in that softly curling hair at the nape of his broad neck? Did she have to look so bloody content?
    As soon as it was humanly possible, she promised herself that she was going to get out of that room and make herself scarce until supper. She’d never felt more suffocated. She had the oddest feeling that Angel found her threatening, and it puzzled her. There wasn’t anything between her and Hawke, wasn’t it obvious? After all, Siri sighed, remembering her nose that was too short, her eyes that were too big, her hair that was too silvery to be a true blonde—she was no competition for that spicy Latin. So why was Angel throwing her the icy looks?
    While she was working that out, she failed to hear the phone ring, or see thehousekeeper motioning to Angel. She missed the sudden intent look in Hawke’s dark eyes as he started toward her. She felt him catch her hand, and she gasped with surprise. She hadn’t realized he was so close.
    â€œDance with me, sparrow,” he said quietly.
    She let him pull her to her feet and lead her out onto the bare wood floor. His big arms enveloped her close against his broad, husky body until air could barely have gotten between them. She felt the tremor go through her slender body and wondered at the strength and newness of what she was feeling.
    The sun was just beginning to go down outside the huge picture window, darkening the room gently, intimately. The slow, sultry pace of the music made the atmosphere all that much more intimate, and Randy and his young wife were already oblivious to their surroundings as they danced a few feet away.
    Drowning in new sensations, Siri moved close to