Re-experience Joan Johnston’s beloved story of finding love in unexpected places.
Hawk’s Way: Falcon
Hawk’s Way – Book 6
“No way I’m ever getting married . . .”
This was rancher Falcon Whitelaw’s favorite phrase. Until he heard himself say “I do” to widowed mother Mara Ainsworth—a woman who hated his guts and was marrying him only for his medical insurance. No more women, no more sex, no more nothing!
But one look into her sick little daughter’s eyes, reminded Falcon of who was really suffering. And for the first time in his life, he found himself praying—for a woman’s love and a child’s life . . .
CHILDREN OF HAWK’S WAY: The Whitelaws of Texas had three sweet and innocent little kids . . . Now they’re grown-up—and not so innocent!
FALCON NOTICED THE WOMAN right away, even though she was standing in the middle of a crowded sidewalk in downtown Dallas. She was not the sort of female who usually attracted his attention, being boyishly slim and merely pretty, rather than beautiful. But there was something about her that drew his eyes and held him spellbound.
He had barely begun to admire her assets—long, silky black hair whipped by the hot summer breeze, spectacular blue eyes, and a tall, supple body—when he spotted the little girl at her side. The woman was joined a moment later by a man who slipped his arm around her slender waist and captured her mouth in a hard, possessive kiss. The little girl quickly claimed the man’s attention, and he leaned down to listen to her excited chatter.
Falcon felt a sharp stab of envy that he wasn’t the man in the quaint family picture. Not that he wanted kids, or wanted to be married, for that matter, but he would have given anything to be on the receiving end of the warm, approving look the woman gave the man as he attended to the little girl.
He was startled to realize that he knew the man. Which meant he could easily wrangle an introduction to the woman.
Falcon didn’t dally with married women. At least, he never had in the past. He pursed his lips thoughtfully. There was no reason why he couldn’t meet her. Without stopping to think, he approached the trio.
“Grant? Grant Ainsworth?” Falcon inquired, though he knew he wasn’t mistaken.
“Falcon Whitelaw!” the man exclaimed. “I haven’t seen you in—it must be ten years!”
“Nearly that. Guess we both lost touch after graduation from Tech,” Falcon said with a smile as he extended his hand to meet the one that had been thrust at him. He forced himself to keep his eyes on his old football teammate from Texas Tech. But he wanted to meet the woman. He wanted to east his eyes on her face at close range. He wanted to figure out what it was that made her so alluring.
“What have you been doing with yourself, Grant?” Falcon asked.
“Got married,” Grant replied with a smug grin. “This is my wife, Mara, and my daughter, Susannah.”
Falcon turned to greet Mara Ainsworth. He was sorry she wasn’t one of those business women who shook hands with a man. He would have liked to touch her. She noded her head and smiled at him, and he felt his stomach do a queer turn. He lifted a finger to his Stetson in acknowledgement of her. “Ma’am.”
Because he knew it was expected of him, he lowered his eyes to the little girl. She was hiding half behind her mother’s full skirt. Susannah had Mara’s black hair, but her eyes were hazel, rather than blue. “Howdy,” he said. “You’re a pretty little miss. Almost as pretty as your mother.”
The little girl giggled and hid her face completely.
From the corner of his eye, Falcon caught the flush of pleasure on Mara’s face. He wanted to touch her cheek, to feel the heat beneath the skin.
“How old is your daughter?” he asked Mara. He needed a reason to look at her. His eyes lingered, cataloguing each exquisite feature.
“Susannah’s seven,” Mara replied.
Falcon heard Grant talking, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Mara. For a moment he thought he saw something in her open gaze, an attraction to him as strong as the one he felt for her. But he knew that was only wishful thinking.
Her lids lowered demurely so her lashes created two coal crescents on milky white skin. Whatever she was feeling, it was hidden from him now. Her lips parted slightly, and he could just see the edges of her teeth. He had to restrain a harsh intake of breath at the overpowering desire he felt to claim her mouth with his. He’d never felt a need so strong or so demanding.
Falcon realized Grant was asking him something, but he only caught the last half of the sentence.
“. . . so if you’re staying the night in Dallas, maybe we could get together and have a few drinks for old times,” Grant finished.
Falcon saw the quick flash of annoyance on Mara’s face. Obviously she would rather have Grant to herself than share him with an old friend. Falcon started to give her what she wanted but realized that if he had a few drinks with Grant, he could find out more about Mara, more about the state of their marriage. It looked happy from the outside, but if there were problems, maybe there was a chance Mara would welcome his attention.
Falcon hated what he was thinking. It wasn’t like him to go after some other man’s woman. But there was something about Mara Ainsworth that struck a chord deep inside him. If he’d found her unattached, he might even have contemplated giving up his bachelor freedom. But it was folly to let himself even think about her so long as she was another man’s wife.
Booklist (starred review)
”Bestselling and prolific author Johnston excels at both historical and contemporary romances.”
Print Length: 304 Pages (originally in print as The Unforgiving Bride, 1994)
Publisher: Harlequin, November 21, 2016