Hunter by Diana Palmer

everything she’d ever want. She wanted him to bend down, to pin her body to the damp sand. She wanted his hard, warm mouth to crush into hers and kiss her senseless. She wanted him.
    And the ferocity of her desire made her ache. “Kiss me,” she whispered, unbearably hungry for him. She reached up and touched his lean, hard face with hands that trembled, loving the warm strength of him. “Hunter…!” She managed to lift herself enough to reach his hard mouth, and hers touched it with helpless need.
    He froze at the contact, his breath catching as he felt her lips so soft and warm against his own. For one insane second he almost gave in to his own hunger. But she was off-limits. She had to be, because there was no future in it for either of them. He forced himself to go rigid, despite the fact that his damned heart was beating him to death as he struggled with desire.
    His lean hands caught her wrists and he pushed her down, tearing her mouth from his as he loomed over her, looking cold and dangerous. “Stop it,” he said curtly, forcing the words out.
    She felt the rejection right through to her heart. He didn’t want her, so why couldn’t she stop offering herself? She hated having him know just how vulnerable she was. How could she have done something so stupid? She flushed beet red. Yes, she was vulnerable, but not Hunter. Mr. Native American was steel right through.
    â€œLet me get up, please,” she said, her voice trembling.
    Pure bravado, and he knew it. He could have her, right here, and she’d give herself with total abandon. But he knew, too, that once would never be enough. He’d have her and then he’d die to have her again. The fever would never be satisfied.
    He let go of her wrists and got to his feet, turning away to keep his vulnerability from her as he stared up at the mountains with apparent unconcern. God, that had been close! He wondered if he could ever forget the way he’d seen her, the sound of her soft voice begging for his kiss, the petal softness of her seeking lips on his mouth…!
    Jenny shivered with reaction, barely able to breathe. She got up and her eyes went helplessly to his back. Well, he’d made his lack of interest clear enough. Maybe her body would eventually give up, she thought with hysterical humor. Despite her beauty, he simply did not want her. It was the most humiliating lesson of her life.
    She looked away, gathering her savaged pride. “I’m supposed to be working,” she said in a thready whisper.
    â€œThe sun’s getting high,” he said without looking at her. “Get your samples and then we’ll find something to eat.”
    She felt totally drained. She picked up her hat with a shaken sigh and retrieved the backpack with her tools. She didn’t even remember dropping it, she’d been so hungry for the touch of him.
    His dark face gave nothing away as he glanced once at her and turned away. “Where do you want to look? And for what?” he asked curtly. “Gold? Is that why this operation is so secretive?”
    She glanced up at him, twisting her contour map in her hands. “I know what you must be thinking,” she said. She could still taste him on her mouth and it made her giddy. “Gold and Indians don’t mix. White man’s greed for it has cost the Native Americans most of their land.”
    â€œThere was a flurry here a year or two ago when someone found a very small vein of gold,” he said. “There were amateur prospectors everywhere, upsetting the habitat, invading private property, some of them even came on the reservation to dig without bothering to ask permission. The Bureau of Indian Affairs takes a very negative view of that kind of thing, and so does the tribal government.”
    â€œI don’t doubt it. But gold isn’t what I’m after right now. I’m looking for a quartz vein, actually.”
    â€œQuartz?”