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Kate’s eyes went wide when she saw the gun. “You’ve been armed this whole time?”
He gave her a look. “Tell me you’re not.”
“I don’t have a gun.”
“What do you have?”
“Maybe you can find out later.” Then she turned and slid out of the jeep.
God, she was killing him.
Nothing was amiss in the yard, but he felt too exposed on the walk to the front door. Especially when they found it unlocked.
No, not just unlocked. Slightly ajar.
Hunter paused there on the front porch and opened his senses, asking the elements for information. The power to the house had been turned off: either someone had thrown the master breaker in the basement, or the power had been cut. He didn’t sense any electricity. Just quiet air that carried no malice.
He had the gun in his hand anyway.
His back was to the house, so he could see as much of the yard as possible. Nothing moved.
But he couldn’t shake this feeling of wrongness, and it seemed foolish to walk straight into a house left this way.
Casper was alert and silent by his side, waiting for a command.
“Go ahead,” said Kate. Her voice was a bare breath of sound. “I’ll cover you.”
Well. Maybe it wasn’t so bad having an ally.
He slipped through the door, all the while hearing his father’s voice in his head.
Shadow shadow shadow shadow.
He wondered what his father would think of his activities in this exact moment.
The main level was unoccupied. Kate was a shadow herself, moving so silently that he could almost forget she was there—hell, Casper’s nails made more sound on the tiled entryway. He’d never worked with someone like this, someone who knew how to move, who could fall back on training and use it to her advantage.
rsquo;d done this before, but now was different. Somehow new and familiar at the same time. Her insides were melting away, and it was a good thing his hands were there to hold her up because she was falling against him. A hand cupped her breast, and she moaned into his mouth, arching her back when his thumb found the most sensitive bits.
Suddenly she wasn’t chilly at all.
In fact, she could do with a lot less clothing.
Her hands explored under the hem of his T-shirt, stroking along the planes of his stomach, tracing the muscles of his chest. One of his hands stroked down her back and found its way beneath the waistband of her jeans, just an inch, maybe two, but just feeling his fingers on more sensitive skin had her panting into his mouth.
He dragged the sweatshirt over her head before she even knew what he was doing. Then his mouth was on her neck, his hands grabbing her thighs and lifting her, carrying her back to the car in such a way that she wanted him to quit with the gentle stuff and push her up against the side of the car, just to feel the sheer power of it.
He did exactly that. It felt even better than she expected. The radio was still on, some announcer’s voice filling the afternoon air with football scores or weather reports or even the price of tea in China.
She so didn’t care, because Hunter’s shirt was gone and he was kissing inside the neckline of her top. He was pressed so tightly against her that she could feel everything, and it was amazing and terrifying and sensual and breathless and she couldn’t think.
Her hands groped for the button to his jeans. Hunter made a low sound, an encouraging sound.
But then he broke the kiss and caught her wrist. “Wait,” he said, his voice rough.
And worried. He reached past her and turned up the radio. “What did he just say?”
Kate could barely comprehend English, and she struggled to wrap her brain around this sudden shift. “What is it? What—”
