Hostage of the Hawk Read Online Free PDF Page A

She’d lied to him, lied to her father. And if Sam found out...
    â€˜Well?’ She blinked. He was staring at her, his expression as unyielding as stone, his eyes cold. ‘What do you say to that, Miss Bennett?’
    â€˜I say... I say...’ Joanna swallowed hard. Go for broke, she thought, took a deep breath, and did. ‘I say,’ she said, her eyes meeting his, ‘that you have every right to be annoyed.’
    His scowl deepened. ‘The start of another bit of trickery?’
    Colour flared in Joanna’s face but she pressed on. ‘I admit I may have stretched the facts, but I haven’t lied. I do represent my father. I have his every confidence and I’m fully authorised to act on his behalf. I know you have a problem dealing with me, but—’
    But, he thought impatiently, his eyes on her face, but! She was good at suggesting alternatives, this Joanna Bennett. She had insulted him, apologised to him, and now she was doing her best to convince him her father had Jandara’s best interests at heart—but for what reason? Why had Sam Bennett sent her? She kept insisting she was Bennettco’s representative, but what man would be fool enough to believe that?
    His gaze moved over her slowly, with an insolence born of command. She kept talking, although her skin took on a rosy flush, and that amused him. Why would a woman like this colour under his gaze? Surely she was not innocent? She was a beauty, though, perhaps more beautiful than any woman he’d ever seen. What she couldn’t know was that her beauty meant nothing to him. Despite what Joanna Bennett thought she knew of him—or of the man she believed him to be—he had long ago wearied of beautiful faces and bodies that hid empty souls. He preferred his women with strength and character, individuals in their own right, not the pampered lapdogs Western women so often were.
    The logical thing to do was to tell her that she and her father had wasted their time, that he was not Hassan but Prince Khalil, that he was not interested in whatever game it was they were playing.
    But if he did that, he would not learn what game it was. And that, surely, was vital.
    â€˜I still fail to see why your father sent you to this meeting, Miss Bennett,’ he said sharply, ‘unless he thought you could succeed where others had failed simply through the element of surprise.’
    â€˜If it makes you feel any better,’ Joanna blurted, ‘I’m as surprised as you are. I thought you’d be—I thought...’
    â€˜Yes?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘What did you think?’
    Joanna stared at him. That you’d be a million years old, she thought, that you’d be a wizened old man... His voice. His voice had sounded old on the telephone. Hadn’t it? Maybe not. She could remember little of their conversation except how desperate she’d been to make him commit to this meeting—this meeting that she was on the verge of ruining, unless she used her head.
    â€˜I thought,’ she said carefully, ‘we’d be able to sit down and discuss our differences face to face.’
    He smiled tightly. ‘But not man to man.’
    â€˜The bottom line,’ Joanna said, ignoring the taunt, ‘is that we—that is, Prince Khalil and Bennettco— do have differences.’
    â€˜Yes. We do, indeed.’ His voice hardened. ‘Bennettco thinks it can ignore Khalil and deal only with Abu—’
    â€˜Abu Al Zouad is the King of Jandara,’ Joanna said with an icy smile, ‘or has your Prince forgotten that little item?’
    â€˜He is not the King, he is the Sultan,’ Khalil said sharply, ‘and surely not Khalil’s.’
    â€˜Abu is the recognised leader of your country, and he has guaranteed Bennettco the right to mine in the northern mountains.’
    Khalil’s smile was wily. ‘If that is the case, why has your father sent you to