Read Online Hunter by Diana Palmer - Free Book Online Page B

in the nineteenth century,” he mused. He propped himself on one elbow and stared at her, his blood beginning to burn at the sight of her, so beautiful with her long hair around her shoulders. “How can you be twenty-seven and not know something so elementary as how to kiss a man properly?”
    â€œYou only did it to humiliate me…!”
    â€œYou didn’t know that,” he replied. He remembered her shy response, and it made him feel worse. Apparently the men in her life had been more interested in their own pleasure than hers, because no one had ever taught her about loveplay. He wanted to. His body went rigid as he realized how much he wanted to.
    â€œI told you,” she said, trying to salvage some of her pride. “I’ve been alone for a long time…”
    â€œHave you? Why?” he asked.
    She didn’t want to go into why. He’d managed to cut her to the bone already with his cold manner, without the insult about the way she kissed. It hurt even more that he’d noticed, despite his lack of interest in her.
    â€œNever mind,” she said wearily. She lay back down and closed her eyes. “I just want to go to sleep. It’s been a long day.”
    â€œSo it has. We’ll move camp tomorrow.”
    â€œCould we move it to Mars?” she asked. “It wouldn’t make much difference, considering the lack of vegetation.”
    â€œYou aren’t seeing. The desert is alive and beautiful, if you know what to look for.”
    â€œYou do, I suppose.”
    â€œI’m an Indian, remember?” he asked with rough insolence.
    â€œHow could I forget?” she muttered. “You never let anyone forget…”
    â€œGo to sleep,” he said shortly. He closed his own eyes, out of patience and totally out of humor. She was really getting to him. He turned his head on the sleeping bag and his eyes wandered slowly over the curve of her body under the quilted fabric. Damn Eugene, he thought furiously, closing his eyes against the sight of her. He’d never forgive him for this assignment.
    Jennifer, meanwhile, was thinking much the same thing. He blew hot and cold, friendly one minute and hostile the next. She didn’t know how to get along with him. He seemed to resent everything about her. Even the way she kissed, she thought bitterly. Well, hell would freeze over before she was going to kiss him again! She rolled over. Maybe in the morning, things would look better.

5

    B ut things didn’t look better in the morning. Hunter was unapproachable. When he did glance her way, it was like an Arctic blast. Nothing she did was ever right, she thought ruefully.
    She busied herself with getting her equipment together, trying not to let him know how hurt she was by his coldness. Worse, trying to forget the feel of him in intimacy, the hard expertness of his mouth on hers. Dreams had sustained her for so long. Now she had at least one bittersweet memory to tuck away. But like all memories and dreams, it wasn’t enough.
    They loaded the four-wheel drive and set off for the next site—the real one this time. It was back in a canyon, beside a stream under a nest of cottonwoods and oaks. Behind it was a mountain range, smooth boulders rising to jagged peaks high above and only a small rutted road through the dust to get to it.
    â€œIt’s very deserted here,” Jennifer murmured, thinking she wouldn’t want to be here on her own. It was probably haunted….
    â€œOne of the old Apache camps,” he said, looking around. “I feel at home.” He glanced at her with faint menace. “But I can imagine that you don’t. White captives were probably brought here.”
    She turned away. “If you don’t mind sparing me your noble red man impersonation, I’d like to get my equipment.”
    He lifted an eyebrow. That was more like it. He’d grown weary of her attempts not to mention his ancestry or her