A Woman Without Lies by Elizabeth Lowell

laughing was when he had pulled a ten-pound catfish out of the opaque water.
    “I’ve fished once or twice,” Hawk said, his voice husky, almost yearning.
    The changed quality of Hawk’s voice made Angel’s throat tighten. She saw the poignant shadow of memories cross his face, softening for a moment the harsh lines around his mouth.
    Without warning, Angel felt tears burn behind her eyelids. She sensed that Hawk’s memories were like he was, bittersweet and lonely, complex and sometimes cruel. She wanted to ease the bitterness, enhance the sweetness, enrich the complexity with all the colors of emotion.
    As for Hawk’s occasional cruelty, it didn’t frighten Angel. For a time after the car wreck she had been unspeakably cruel to those around her. Finally the time of cruelty had passed, leaving her purged.
    Angel looked up into the dark eyes that were so close to her. Her fingers curled around a fork that still retained the heat of Hawk’s body.
    “You’ll catch a dawn salmon this summer,” she said softly to Hawk. “I promise you.”
    Before Hawk could answer, Angel straightened and turned, removing Hawk’s plate and silverware. In silence she stacked dishes into the dishwasher, moving quickly. Even though they had missed the tide, she was eager to be out on the water.
    “Ready?” she asked, looking up.
    Hawk was watching her, had been watching her since she had promised him a dawn salmon in a voice vibrant with emotion. Without making a sound, he set down his empty mug.
    “I’ve been ready since I was eighteen,” Hawk said.

 
6
    When Hawk heard his own words, his face settled into its normal enigmatic lines, concealing thoughts and emotions behind a mahogany mask. Silently he helped Angel carry everything out to the car. There was quite a lot. Groceries, a pile of fishing gear, jackets, and even a sketchbook Angel had thrown in at the last instant.
    Hawk looked up from the gear heaped in his BMW.
    “Are we going to
Alaska
?” asked Hawk dryly.
    “What a wonderful idea,” Angel said in a wistful voice. “I’ve always wanted to sail the Inside Passage .”
    Hawk gave her a hooded, assessing look.
    “But that’s not on our list this summer,” Angel said.
    She started shifting the bags around until she could close the trunk of the car. Hawk started to help, then stopped, riveted by the high, wild whistle of an eagle calling to the dawn.
    He looked up into the sky with dark, fierce eyes, searching for the bird.
    A black shape plummeted down, wings flared, talons outstretched. The prey was hidden from Hawk’s sight in the tall grass, but the raptor had no such problem. The bird struck and mantled its dying prey with half-spread wings, protecting it from view.
    Then the eagle’s uncanny eyes spotted the two people standing so quietly. With a high, angry cry, the eagle took flight, carrying its prey to the treetops.
    The sky was flushed with the delicate, transparent colors of true dawn. Across the strait, serrated ranks of mountains loomed like fragments of night, black and yet strangely radiant. Overhead a few tufted clouds burned scarlet, then molten gold.
    A feeling of exhilaration speared through Hawk. He lifted his face to the sky, letting sunrise wash over him. He had spent too much time indoors since he had left the farm. He hadn’t known how much he had missed the sky until this moment.
    From the thrusting rock summit of Eagle Head came again the untamed cry of a bird of prey.
    Angel looked up, saw the fierce pleasure on Hawk’s face, and felt desire shiver through her. The feeling shocked her in the instants before she accepted it.
    I shouldn’t be surprised by passion. I chose to live after Grant died in the wreck. Love and desire are a natural part of life.
    Just because I haven’t wanted any man for three years doesn’t mean that I would never want a man again.
    Even as Angel admitted the intensity of her attraction to Hawk, she knew that she could be hurt badly by him. Hawk was as