Bounty Hunter (10 page)

Read Bounty Hunter Online

Authors: Donna Kauffman

“I don’t know what came over me. Nerves, I guess. But you didn’t deserve such an hysterical
response to your question. I’m sorry, it’s just that …” She ducked her head for a
moment, then looked back up at him. “I really thought that I’d begun to come to terms
with it. The stress and all.” She chuckled, but it was a harsh sound that made Kane
wince. “Obviously I haven’t even scratched the surface.”

“The offer I made still stands.”

She lifted her eyebrows in question.

“To listen. I may not be much on conversation, but I make a great listener.”

She seemed to study him for a moment. “Oh, I don’t know, Eyes of the Hawk,” she said
softly. “I imagine you’re pretty good at whatever you choose to do.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes the choices you make don’t count for a hill of beans. Sometimes
they’re already made for you.” Feeling distinctly uncomfortable with the turn of the
conversation and more than a little aroused by visions of one particular skill he’d
like to prove to her he
was
pretty good at, he opted to bail out before he embarrassed either of them any further.
“If you need me, you know where I am.” He opened the door and jumped down.

When the sun finally dropped over the horizon, it got dark very fast. So Elizabeth
wasn’t certain if she’d seen correctly, but she could have sworn
Kane’s complexion was a shade or two darker when he’d hopped down from the truck.

Funny. She’d come to think that he could be angered or insulted, even amused by her
comments. But never embarrassed. It was an intriguing thought.

She’d been so caught up in her own maelstrom of emotions, she hadn’t paid much attention
to how Kane had taken her unusual outburst. But speculating on his reaction was a
welcome reprieve from analyzing her recent hysteria.

With a renewed sense of energy, she met him at the tail gate. “I’ll take the food
in, if you want to take the truck around to the barn and unload the hay.”

The tail gate creaked as he lowered it. He didn’t say anything, just pulled the two
boxes forward, pushing the lighter one toward her and grabbing the other.

She didn’t force the issue, but lugged her box toward the front door. She felt him
moving behind her, the old wood boards on the porch groaning in protest under his
booted heels. He propped the box on his hip and reached over her shoulder to grab
the screen.

The sight of his strong, rough hand gripping the frame heightened her awareness of
his nearness and she fumbled with the door handle. Once inside, she moved quickly
through the small living room to the kitchen. Even in the dark, she knew the layout.
She
put the box down on the counter and went to turn on the propane lamp that sat on the
table.

Kane came into the room as she turned to find the lamp. Her searching fingers hit
denim. Warm, hard denim. She snatched her hand away. Jeez, what was with her tonight?
First the sight of his long, strong fingers made her want to drop her box and fall
into arms she knew would be just as powerful. Then the mere brush of her hand against
his clothes made her wonder if he had similar thoughts.

“Um, here let me feel the table and make sure there’s enough room,” she said quickly.
She could have sworn she heard him groan softly. She knew the box wasn’t that heavy.
In the next second her hands brushed on the bottle of alcohol and cotton balls she’d
brought down earlier to tend to his splinter.

She caught the bottle before it tilted over and quickly moved the stuff aside. She
reached out carefully and grabbed the front two corners of the box, guiding it to
the table.

Once it was down, she said, “Give me a second to find the lantern.” Where had she
left it?

“Annie.”

She froze. His voice was deeper than normal. The way he’d said her name … as if … She
stopped her thoughts right there.

“Annie,” he repeated, only this time with a sense of urgency that made her automatically
turn toward the sound.

“What?” She stood very still, part of her wanting
to squint and force her night vision to adjust more quickly, the rest of her wanting
to stay secure in the anonymity the darkness provided.

Large hands suddenly gripped her shoulders. Startled, she reached out to steady herself,
grasping his forearms. She looked up to where she knew his eyes would be and found
them. She shivered. And she wasn’t the least bit cold.

“Do you love him?” His voice was dark and steamy, like the air surrounding them.

“Do I—What?” she said with a gasp, completely unprepared for the question.

She heard him heave a sigh of … disgust? Was it with her? Or himself? And why? She
didn’t know which question to ask first, or whether to tell him it wasn’t any of his
damn business. She also knew the scene in the truck deserved at least a little explanation.
But what could she tell him without jeopardizing her safety—or his? His next question
saved her from figuring it out.

“Do you want to go back to him?”

The very idea made her throat close convulsively over the sudden heave of her stomach
muscles. She tried to answer him but couldn’t seem to get the words out.

“Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

She felt his hands shift on her shoulders and tightened her grip on his forearms,
suddenly not wanting him to break the contact. She lifted a hand to his cheek, but
her fingers barely brushed over the light stubble on his jaw before he pulled his
head
away. She quickly grabbed his forearm again. “Kane, don’t—”

“I need to tend to Sky Dancer. If you want to leave this, I’ll help you in the morning.”

She could feel the tension in the tightly coiled muscles clenched beneath her fingertips.
She wanted to lift his hands from her shoulders and cradle them against her face.
She wanted him to fold her against his chest, to lower his mouth to hers.

She slid her hands toward his wrists, but in the next instant he broke contact and
stepped away.

“Kane, I can put away groceries later, just don’t—” She broke off as she heard the
front screen slap shut. “Leave yet,” she finished softly.

The tears she’d shed in the truck had been her first in three months. She’d felt as
if she’d shed at least enough for a year. The hot sting behind her closed eyelids
proved otherwise. She groped for a chair and sank into it, feeling as if her last
remaining energy had left with Kane.

She’d never felt so confused in all her life. Other than what had happened the night
she’d followed Sam, the last few hours qualified as the most draining she’d experienced.

Kane had blown into her life like a lone hawk riding the summer wind. He’d appeared
at a time when her confidence in her instincts was at an all-time low. Was she lonely
and drawn to him because he happened to be the only one for miles around with a sympathetic
ear?

There was Dobs, and Letty, of course, but she
had to admit she’d certainly never felt like unloading on them. They didn’t look like
Kane. Maybe that was it. Even in her mentally exhausted state, it didn’t take a genius
to realize that the man was both gorgeous and enigmatic. It was only natural that
she would respond to him.

The overwhelming need she’d felt to have him pull her into his arms and hold her against
his nice broad chest … that was her hormones talking.

She folded her arms on the table and rested her forehead on top of them. She was full
of horse manure.

Deep down, below the confusion and dread, the stress and anxiety of being forced to
hide, she knew she’d have responded to Kane no matter what the circumstances. He was
vital and strong, with that tantalizing hint of mystery. And he had integrity by the
bushel.

And she had no right to let him become more involved in her life.

The tears began to flow again. This time she let them go, no longer bothering to hold
back the sobs.

“Annie?”

She hadn’t heard him come in. He laid his hands on her shoulders at the same time
he said her name. She choked simultaneously on a sob and a scream, unable to fight
him as he lifted her to her feet.

“Come here,” he said gruffly.

His arms tightened around her, pulling her smaller, softer body tightly against his
larger, harder one. He lifted one hand to her nape and tucked her
head gently to his chest. It was broad and warm and made her feel so secure. She realized
then that she didn’t want to fight him. Not when she was finally getting what she’d
wanted all along.

“Kane,” she said, the sound muffled against the soft cotton of his shirt.

“Shhh. Stop trying to carry the whole world on your shoulders. Let someone hold you.
Let me.”

His gentle urging was her undoing. It came too soon on the heels of her decision to
stay away from him, too soon for her to recoup the strength she’d depleted with her
crying jag. So she let herself go and curled into his strength, drawing energy from
his warmth and the steady beat of his heart.

Just for a few minutes. Only a few minutes.

Kane bit his cheek to stifle the groan that rose in his throat. The feel of her, soft
and trembling in his arms, was almost more than he could bear. His body had hardened
the second she’d relaxed against him. He fought to keep his hands gentle when all
he wanted to do was tighten them on her hips and drag her closer. He didn’t even allow
himself to rest his chin on her hair, afraid if he smelled the sweet scent that seemed
always to linger on her, he’d have to bury his face in the wild red curls and savor
it.

She needs comforting not seducing, he reminded himself. She’d needed it before, but
he’d wisely turned away and left. When another sob wracked her body, he cursed inwardly.
This was all his fault. He shouldn’t have pushed her so soon. His
body pulsed behind the fly of his jeans as she moved against him.

And he definitely shouldn’t have gotten back out of the truck when he’d heard her
first choked sob.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Kane,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

“Can you … do you think you can work it out?” Kane asked through gritted teeth. Lord,
he wished he were anywhere but there. With her. Holding her. Yet, when she burrowed
even more deeply into his arms, he knew he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“No.”

Her response was adamant and immediate. And Kane felt something close to shame for
the surge of pleasure he got from her succinct answer. “Is it the money?”

She let her cheek rest on his chest as she answered. “Money? What do you mean?”

Kane wasn’t sure how to phrase the next question. “I mean, it looks as if he cut you
off, or you wouldn’t be picking berries in the middle of nowhere to survive.”

She was silent for a moment. He felt her tense, fighting another halting shudder as
she drew in a breath.

“It’s one of the results, but not the reason. Why?”

The need to protect her had been strong from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Now
that he had her in his arms, he couldn’t deny that those same
instincts were urging him to help her. Despite what he was beginning to feel, what
he suspected he could share with a woman like her, if all she’d accept from him was
money, than that was what he’d offer.

“Do you … did you want a lawyer or something? I mean, is there a reason you had to
go so far away? To get away from him? A … physical reason?”

She stiffened and yanked herself from his arms. “I … I can’t tell you anything more,
Kane. I’m sorry. I wish I could …” She pulled in an audible breath. “Maybe you’d better
go.”

“Go?”

“Yes. Well, no. I mean—” She sniffled, then sighed heavily. “Thank you for offering
support. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel great to lean on someone. It’s just … this
is more complicated than it sounds, and I … I don’t want to talk about it anymore.
I can’t. Do you understand?”

“What I understand is that you’re running yourself ragged up here, trying to survive,”
he said, not giving a damn that his voice was harsh. She had him so tied up in knots,
it was a wonder he could speak at all. “You obviously don’t think going back is the
answer. Fine. But you won’t last the winter up here, Annie. So you’re going to have
to deal with it pretty damn soon. And I don’t exactly see a long line of people standing
around wanting to help.”

“I know,” she said softly.

There was so much defeat in those two words
that a great deal of his anger fled. He took a step toward her but didn’t touch her.
“So let me.”

“It isn’t that simple. I can’t let you get involved in this. You don’t know what you’d
be getting into.”

“Then tell me so I do know.” His patience was close to snapping. He was going purely
on instinct now, and it was wreaking havoc with his self-control. “I want to help
you, Annie. But you have to tell me everything.” He wanted to reach out and pull her
to him again, but he held his ground.

“Why? Why do you want to stick your neck out for me?”

It was a damn good question. Only he didn’t think she wanted to hear his instinctive
response. She’d made an unexpected impact on him, and in only a few short days. He
wasn’t too comfortable with the knowledge of his growing feelings for her and certainly
wasn’t ready to share them. So he gave her a truth they could both handle.

“Because I know something is wrong here. And I know I can help. I can’t walk away
from that. Is that so hard to understand?”

“Your sense of integrity is rare, no matter what you believe,” she said quietly. “But
what makes you think you can help me? You don’t even know what I’m running from.”

There. He’d gotten her to trust him enough to admit it. But the feeling of triumph
was overshadowed by the knowledge that she must have run for a damn good reason. “Then
tell me,” he urged quietly. This time he did give in to the need to touch
her. His eyes had long ago adapted to the dark, and he unerringly reached for her
hips. He tugged her a step closer to him, struggling to keep his hold light.

She tensed. He could feel her muscles coil under his fingertips and sensed she was
a breath away from running. He couldn’t let her do that. Not now when he was so close.
He had to get her to tell him everything.

Other books

The Forgotten Fairytales by Angela Parkhurst
The Viceroys by Federico De Roberto
Strictland Academy by Carolyn Faulkner, Breanna Hayse
Don't Leave Me by James Scott Bell
A Killer in the Wind by Andrew Klavan
Betina Krahn by The Last Bachelor
Ravens of Avalon by Paxson, Diana L., Bradley, Marion Zimmer
Volk by Piers Anthony
Who Won the War? by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor