Raven's Prey

Honor was nervous about drawing any conclusions from the various small victories she seemed to be winning.
    Was he really beginning to melt toward her? Perhaps that kiss this morning had elicited more than just a physical response in him. The unquenchable flame of hope began to glow within her again. There was still a chance of convincing Judd Raven to see things from her side. He was offering time and even a measure of protection. That was a long way from trust, of course, but she would work with what she had.
    “I’ll be glad to have dinner with you, Judd,” she said very politely, just as if he were inviting her out on a real date. Then she risked a smile, one that reached her eyes. “Do you think you can manage to refrain from telling everyone in the cantina about your techniques for dealing with an errant wife?”
    “If you refrain from challenging me in front of the villagers, I’ll be able to keep my mouth shut about how I plan to bring you to heel,” he said blandly. Too blandly. “But be warned. A man has to keep his woman in hand.”
    Honor eyed him wonderingly. Was Judd trying to tease her again? She simply didn’t know how to take this man. “Have you been pretending all week that I’m your wife?”
    “It was the simplest way to get people to talk about you,” he said quietly.
    “Effective, too,” she muttered dryly. “There’s no way I could make any of these people around here believe that you have no right to take me back to the States.”
    “No,” he agreed, sipping his coffee. “There isn’t.”
    The finality of the words washed away her lightened mood. “It would serve you right if you had a real wife who took offense at your little game!” she snapped, rolling off the bed and getting to her feet.
    “How do you know I don’t have a real wife?” he asked, sounding rather curious.
    Honor was pulling clothes out of her pocket-sized closet. How did she know he wasn’t married? Good grief! Wasn’t it obvious? “I knew it the minute I saw you last night. You’re a loner, aren’t you, Judd?” She collected a few more items from her suitcase, which served as a dresser drawer. “It’s in your eyes. It’s all over you. You go through life alone and you like it that way. Except for your plane, naturally,” she added too sweetly. “I guess it’s sort of like a cowboy and his horse, isn’t it? Remember those old pictures in which the cowboy hero kisses his horse.. Judd!”
    She leaped back, her arms full of clothes as he came across the room with sudden violence. Honor found herself with her back against the wall of the cottage, staring up at a man who clearly didn’t intend to take any more.
    “One more crack about me making love to my airplane and I’ll show you in no uncertain terms that I haven’t completely forgotten how to deal with a real life female!” he rasped, his fingers closing tightly around her throat. The raven eyes gleamed down at her and the expression in them caused Honor’s mouth to go dry.
    “Isn’t it true that you care more about that plane than you do most people?” she dared.
    He released her throat, pulling his hand away with deliberate caution as if the temptation to strangle her might still overcome him. “You just never give up, do you?”
    But he was once more under control and Honor slowly relaxed. “I’m sorry, Judd. It’s been a bit rough lately. I’m not at my gracious, scintillating best these days. I suppose I should be grateful to have someone else around with whom I can speak English!”
    He frowned. “Has it been lonely for you, Honor?”
    “Everyone in the village is very nice but I’m not really one of them and the language barrier makes involved conversation difficult.” Honor started toward the door with the load of laundry in her arms. “Yes, I’ve been lonely. Unlike you, I like to have friends around occasionally. Friends I can talk to. People who trust me and whom I can trust.”
    She was almost through the door when he said quietly behind her, “You can trust me, Honor,”
    That stopped her. She turned to look at him over her shoulder, eyes narrowed. “Maybe. In your own hard, cold way, you probably are trustworthy. But you don’t trust me so it’s all pretty hopeless, isn’t it?”
    “Damn it to hell, what do you want from me?” But she was already through the door and he was forced to follow. “Honor, wait. Where are you going with those clothes?”
    “The local Laundromat.” She kept walking,