Heart of the Hunter by Bj James Page A

isn’t home. That’s why I don’t mind hanging out here—it gets lonesome in that rambling old house without my hot-blooded stallion around.”
    â€œGive it up, Nicky. You’re surrounded, and the cavalry isn’t coming.” Jeb straightened to his full height, standing just a couple of inches under a foot taller than her five feet, two. “You avoided me this morning by skipping your walk on the beach. The evening’s another matter.
    â€œUnless, you want to break one of your own cardinal rules, and lose your temper.” He touched her chin, tracing the small indentation that was not quite a cleft. “Do you want to be angry with me? Do you blame me for last night?” He lifted her face to his. “Would you feel better if we pretended it never happened?”
    Annabelle made a restless move, her curiosity building to volcanic proportions. A warning glance from Jeb quieted her.
    Nicole wasn’t aware of the restlessness or the warning. She didn’t look away from Jeb, or move from the lazy, mesmerizing caress. He was right, she had avoided the beach and another chance encounter. When she’d woken with the first chirping of the birds, she was disoriented and had no memory of retiring the night before. When a headache struck, the magnitude of which only red wine could cause, she was confused. When she discovered she was still dressed in her chemise, she remembered Jeb.
    Jeb. Lounging by her door in the moonlight. Catching her glass, then scooping her up, as well. Soothing her, teasing her, listening to the debacle that had been her day.
    Jeb. His lips in her hair. The beat of his heart against her own. His hands on her as he stripped off her skirt. His angry, half-whispered curse as he found what she wore beneath.
    Jeb. His soft kiss on her forehead. His quiet wish for a restful sleep.
    Jeb. Awakening every dream she’d ever dreamed. Dreams that had lain silent, but never died.
    Jeb. Always Jeb. Her heart would never be free of him. And she was a fool.
    Since then, her day and her mood had vacillated to the extreme, the single constant had been self-contempt and humiliation. She almost welcomed a second day of Mrs. Atherton’s demands. At least it was something to think about other than Jeb and her own stupidity.
    Now there was nothing to do but face it and brazen it out if she must. “I don’t suppose there’s any need in lying. I did avoid you this morning—I thought you would prefer it that way. I...uh...wasn’t exactly myself. I hope you know that. I don’t usually do that sort of thing and to inflict myself upon you was unforgivable. We were friends in the past, but, if we’re honest, we have to admit we’re almost strangers now.”
    Annabelle gasped and made an odd choking sound.
    Jeb heard, knew exactly the connotation she’d given Nicole’s rambling monologue, and couldn’t resist the temptation to strike a flame to smoldering suspicion. “We aren’t strangers, my love.” He whispered softly, but not too softly. “We could never be after last night.”
    â€œI thought you would be disappointed in me.”
    â€œThe only thing that disappoints me, is that you’ve refused to have dinner with me.” He took her hands in both of his. “Would it be so awful to spend another evening with me? This time I promise I won’t put you to bed.”
    Nicole succumbed to laughter and to him. He was teasing her, and the anger she’d heard last night was gone. “All right, it’s a deal. But this time I promise, you won’t need to put me to bed.”
    â€œDeal.” He kissed the tender flesh of one wrist and backed away. “I’ll browse while you freshen up.”
    Nicole hurried to a set of doors that led to a small lounge and bathroom. Annabelle didn’t have to be a clairvoyant to interpret one last tarrying look. Her cool, collected boss wasn’t so cool