On Wings of Magic by Kay Hooper

thumb and forefinger rubbing gently together.
    Hawke stared at the gesture. “What’s that?”
    “This,” Kendall told him succinctly, “is the smallest violin in the world, playing hearts and flowers just for you.” Halting the gesture, she turned her attention back to her book.
    “Well, thanks.” His voice held a tremor of laughter. “No sympathy from you, I see.”
    “None.” She was grateful for the shielding sunglasses, which were hiding the gleam of laughter in her eyes.
    “My little gift of apology didn’t help, obviously.”
    “Why
a Venus’s-flytrap?” Kendall felt irritated at her curiosity, and added with great dignity, “Not that I can accept it.”
    “You’ll hurt my feelings if you don’t.” He sat down on the end of the lounge, regarding her thoughtfully. “And I picked that because it reminded me of you.”
    She waited a beat, then asked carefully, “I remind you of a carnivorous plant?”
    “Sure.” Hawke smiled slowly. “Beautiful, deceptively fragile, and potentially deadly.”
    Kendall started to say that she’d been compared to worse things, then realized that she
hadn’t
. “Thanks.”
    “You’re welcome,” he responded solemnly.
    She decided that if
he
wasn’t going to mention last night’s confession,
she
certainly wasn’t. It probably hadn’t meant anything to him anyway. In spite of what she’d thought. “I’m trying to read this book, you know,” she pointed out.
    “Sorry.” He got to his feet. “I just came to say good-bye.”
    “You—you’re leaving?” It was the last thing she had expected.
    The response seemed to satisfy him. “For a couple of days. I have some business in Florida. Will you miss me?”
    “Dreadfully!” she snapped, angry at herself for the betraying uncertainty. “How soon are you leaving?”
    “Right away.” He was amused now. “Helicopter to Nassau, then a plane to Miami.”
    “Have a nice trip.” Resolutely, she went back to the book.
    “Not so fast.” He reached down to grip her upper arms firmly, pulling her effortlessly to her feet. “Not without a kiss good-bye.”
    “Hawke!” she protested as he removed her sunglasses and tossed them onto the lounge. “I can’t—I won’t—dammit, stop manhandling me!”
    He took the book away from her and tossed it on the lounge. “A kiss for luck,” he told her reproachfully. “It’s a savage world out there. Never know what I might run into. Isn’t a maiden supposed to give her knight a kiss for luck?”
    “No,” Kendall said a little desperately. “She gives him a scarf to wear into battle. But since you’re
not
my knight, you’re
not
going into battle, and I
don’t
happen to have a scarf handy, it doesn’t really matter!”
    “A kiss will do.”
    She stared up at him for a moment, then muttered “Oh, hell.” And she swayed toward him, her face lifted invitingly.
    There was a slight pause, and then Hawke kissed her. On the forehead. Chastely. Just like a knight in the age of chivalry. If Kendall had been holding something heavy, she would have hit him with it.
    “Bye, honey.” His deep voice was threaded with laughter.
    Kendall sank down on the lounge as he released her arms, not trusting herself to speak. And it didn’t help her temper one bit to see that several hotel guests had watched the little scene with great interest.
    Hawke started to turn away, then looked back at her as though he’d had a sudden thought. “What would you like me to bring you from Florida?” he asked cheerfully.
    She picked up her sunglasses from the lounge and shoved them onto her nose. “That,” she told him carefully, “is a dangerous question to ask me right now.”
    “Oh.” His lips twitched slightly. “Sorry. HI just find something on my own; how’s that?”
    “Don’t go to any trouble on my account,” she advised him politely.
    Grinning, he started toward the hotel, throwing one last remark over his shoulder. “Don’t forget me, now!”
    “Fat chance,”