Hunter Read Online Free PDF Page B

toe, an old maid’s dream.
    She punched in more codes and concentrated on her maps.
    â€œWhat kind of mineral are you and Eugene looking for?” he asked curiously.
    She pursed her lips and glanced at him with gleeful malice. “Make a guess,” she invited.
    She realized her mistake immediately and could have bitten her lip through. He sat up and threw his long legs off the bed, moving to her side with threatening grace. He took the laptop out of her hands and put it on the table before he got her by the wrists and pulled her up against his body. The proximity made her knees go weak. He smelled of spicy cologne and soap, and his breath had a coffee scent, as if he’d been meeting his operatives in a café. His grip was strong and exciting, and she loved the feel of his body so close to hers. Perhaps, subconsciously, this was what she’d expected when she antagonized him…
    â€œLittle girls throw rocks at boys they like,” he said at her forehead. “Is that what you’re doing, figuratively speaking? Because if it is,” he added, and his grip on her wrists tightened even as his voice grew deeper, slower, “I’m not in the market for a torrid interlude on the job, cover girl.”
    She could have gone through the floor with shame. The worst of it was that she didn’t even have a comeback. He saw right through her. With his advantage in age and experience, that wasn’t really surprising. She knew, too, from gossip that he disliked white women. Probably they saw him as a unique experience more than a man. She didn’t feel that way, but she couldn’t admit it.
    â€œI’m not trying to get your attention. I’m tired and when I’m tired, I get silly,” she said too quickly, talking to his shirt as she stiffened with fear of giving herself away. Odd, the jerky way he was breathing, and the fabric was moving as if his heartbeat was very heavy. Her body was melting, this close to his. “You don’t have to warn me off. I know better than to make a play for you.”
    The remark diverted him. “Do you? Why?” he asked curtly.
    â€œThey say you hate women,” she replied. “Especially,” she added, forcing her blue eyes up to his narrowed dark ones, “white women.”
    He nodded slowly. His gaze held hers, and then drifted down to her soft bow of a mouth with its faint peach lipstick, and further, to the firm thrust of her breasts almost but not quite touching his shirtfront. He remembered another beautiful blond, the one who’d deserted him when he’d been five years old. Her Apache child had been an embarrassment in her social circles. By then, of course, her activist phase was over, and she had her sights on one of her own people. Some years back, he’d been taken in by a socialite himself. An Apache escort had been unique, for a little while, until he’d mentioned a permanent commitment. And she’d laughed. My God, marry a man who lived on a reservation? The memories bit into him like teeth.
    He released Jennifer abruptly with a roughness that wasn’t quite in character.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she said when she saw the expression in his dark eyes. She winced, as if she could actually feel his pain. “I didn’t mean to bring back bad memories for you.”
    His expression was frightening at that moment. “What do you know about me?” he asked, his voice cutting.
    She managed a wan smile and moved away from him. “I don’t know anything, Mr. Hunter. Nobody does. Your life is a locked door and there’s no key. But you looked…” She turned and glanced back at him, and her hands lifted and fell helplessly. “I don’t know. Wounded.” She averted her eyes. “I’d better get this put away.”
    Her perception floored him. She was a puzzle he’d never solved, and despite his security files, he knew very little about her own