Seducing Hunter

by Cathie Linz

  She’d just felt the full force of his arousal when their kiss was abruptly broken off as they both almost fell off the log!

  Gaylynn immediately scrambled to her feet before remembering she was only wearing one shoe. Looking down, she gazed into Hunter’s face, his eyes lit with sultry laughter.

  “Now I know where that phrase ‘as easy as falling off a log,’ comes from,” Hunter noted with a rueful laugh.

  Easy? Gaylynn thought. Yes, it would be all too easy for her to fall in love with Hunter. She was halfway there already. Halfway to heartache. Why couldn’t she have fallen for him when she’d had her act together, when she’d been strong enough to fight for him, to fight for his love? When she’d been deserving of him.

  He might have found their situation funny, but she didn’t.

  “Timing is everything,” she muttered under her breath before briskly heading down the path. back to reality.

  * * *

  “Good, Blue!” Gaylynn exclaimed as the cream Siamese kitten pounced on the string that Gaylynn was pulling across the porch floor. “You clever kitty!”

  During the past two weeks she’d managed to get the feline family as far as the cabin porch. Spook still preferred to hide out under the porch, while Cleo kept a watchful eye on both her kittens from the steps.

  Blue, meanwhile, was keeping her watchful eyes on the string. She missed just as often as she caught it, perhaps because of her crossed eyes, Gaylynn wasn’t sure. She only knew that she felt fiercely protective of Blue, Spook and Cleo. She’d even fixed them a little bed out of the cardboard carton her brother had put the Rom box in.

  Which left the love charm out in the open, sitting on the table at the end of the lumpy couch inside the cabin, and very much on her mind.

  When Blue curled up on her lap, Gaylynn spent the next hour reading through some of the papers she’d found stuffed in the carton with the box.

  They were notes, in her mother’s flowing handwriting, recording the family legend as told by Gaylynn’s paternal grandmother, who’d died long before she was born. According to family legend, those who had trouble with the charmed box that would “find love where you look for it” included one ancestor who tried to sell the box, and was soon thereafter struck by lightning in a freak storm.

  “So it’s definitely not a good idea to try and pawn this thing,” Gaylynn murmured, rubbing Blue’s ear with one hand while she held the notes in the other.

  Her mother had written as a postscript:

  No one knows exactly how old the charmed box is, time is not measured by the Rom—aka Gypsies—in the same way it is with others. I have tied some stories to world events, such as the American Revolution in the late 1700s, to try and pinpoint them. In that era, care was not taken with the opening of the box and a Gypsy man fell in love with a woman who was already married. She fell for him, as well, and their love ended tragically, with them both committing suicide at the hunting lodge of her husband.

  “Avoid hunting lodges and married men,” Gaylynn muttered. “And all of this trouble because an ancestor of mine fell in love with a no-account count who didn’t return her feelings. Yeah, I know how that feels, Blue,” she informed the kitten, who was kneading her little paws in ecstasy. “Unrequited love is the pits. But that’s no reason to go and have a love spell cast. And it wasn’t even a good love spell at that, but a messed-up one, that skips a generation.”

  She read some more from the notes.

  The box has also brought good fortune, as was the case with the Gypsy man who fell in love with an Austrian countess. Together they did much to ease the harassment of the Gypsies who traveled in their jurisdiction.

  Another story tells of the Gypsy woman who fell in love with the most powerful man in their tribe, even though he was twice her age.

  Legend has it that the box once actually stopped a feud, when the son of one tribe saw a young woman from their rival tribe and both fell in love.

  Their union brought the two tribes together.

  “I wonder if that first Gypsy girl ever got the no-account count she was in love with?” Gaylynn murmured aloud, but she couldn’t find any answer to her question in the notes her mother had written.

  Careful not to disturb Blue, who was now sound asleep on her lap, or Spook, who had crept underneath the rocking chair, Gaylynn reached down for the charmed box itself, which she’d brought out on the porch with her.

  Her finger tingled as she touched the warm metal. Most likely that was caused by the fact that the box had been sitting in the sun. This was the first time she’d taken the opportunity to study the box closely. The intricate engraving on the lid depicted a scene that included palm trees and a sailing ship.

  “Which means what?” she wondered aloud. “That I’m about to take a long sea voyage?”

  There were four crescent moons on the left corner of the lid while a streaking sun setting over a line of mountains adorned the right corner.

  “Or maybe it means that I was meant to come to the mountains?”

  The sides of the box were also engraved with hearts, moons, stars and what looked like an honest-togoodness wizard! “Cool,” she murmured, impressed by the detailed workmanship.

  Opening the box, she remembered to look for the silver key her brother had told her was inside. But she found no key. Instead, there was a medallion of some kind. The red-and-white ribbons were old and faded. As she touched them with her fingertip, she was filled with a strange sort of calm strength.

  Holding the medallion in one hand, she looked through her mother’s notes again but found no reference to any medals, or to what the box contained at all, for that matter. As Blue woke up, and had a playful interest in the ribbons, Gaylynn decided it might be safer to return the medallion to the box for the time being.

  She’d learned a lot that afternoon. She’d hoped that the supposed love charm only worked on a nonattached person of the opposite sex, but instead had found that wasn’t necessarily the case. Married or single, older or younger, it didn’t matter. The love charm zapped and the rest was history. Which left her praying that the old moonshiner she’d seen that first day hadn’t gotten mystically smitten. That’s all she’d need right now.

  “Don’t let the fact that you’ve been waiting all your life for this moment make you nervous,” Hunter teasingly told Gaylynn.

  “Shut up and let me shoot,” she retorted.

  “I thought we were playing a little friendly one-onone here. Nothing serious.”

  “Speak for yourself.” Taking a deep breath, she focused her attention on the net before shooting. The basketball bounced against the backboard and rolled halfway around the rim before dropping in. “Yes!” she shouted triumphantly.

  “This isn’t the NBA play-offs, you know.”

  “You’re just mad because I’m beating you.”

  “You are not beating me! So you’re ahead a few points.”

  “Ten points, to be exact.”

  When Hunter had shown up this afternoon, Gaylynn hadn’t been too keen on his suggestion that she come to his place to shoot a few hoops. Actually, he’d downright challenged her to a little one-on-one, goading her into it, taunting her with the memory of how Michael and Hunter had never let her play with them.

  “Here’s your chance to play with me all you want,” Hunter had murmured.

  At the time, she’d wondered if Hunter could possibly have meant that comment to be as provocatively tempting as it had sounded. Probably not.

  Her height, or lack thereof, gave her a definite disadvantage in this game. Hunter was a good eight or nine inches taller than she was. But she had good eyehand coordination and speed, plus the advantage of distraction.

  It started with her taking off her zippered jacket to reveal the formfitting purple tank top she wore underneath it, a top that left a good four-inch section around her waist bare above the waistband of her black spandex leggings.

  She’d hadn’t dressed this way on purpose, she’d been doing her exer
cises when he’d shown up at her doorstep. But she certainly made good use of her somewhat scanty attire, once she noticed his attention wandering in that direction. She’d bump into him every so often and run her hand down his sides.

  “Foul!” Hunter cried as she tried the maneuver again.

  “No way!” she returned. “Come on, Hunter, I’ve seen fourth-graders play a better game than you.” Having said that, she proceeded to steal the ball from him.

  “Yeah, well, I’ve seen babies do better dribbling,” he retorted.

  “So have I,” she said with a grin. “You should see my baby niece, Hope, when she gets going. It’s not a pretty sight.”

  Hunter knew one thing that was a pretty sight, and that was Gaylynn, hair tumbling in her eyes, her cheeks flushed, her lips lifted in a smile that softened his heart and hardened other parts of his anatomy.

  Damn it, she made another basket, a three-pointer this time.

  He managed to pull within one point in their allotted time before the game was over.

  Afterward, as he tried to cool down with his head bent and his palms braced on his knees, he was startled to feel her come up from behind him to put her arm around his shoulder and kiss his sweaty cheek. His temperature shot right off the map again.

  Straightening, he said, “What was that for?”

  “For not being a gentleman and just letting me win. For making me work for it. I won fair and square.”

  He gave her a surely-you-jest look. “Fair and square? With that outfit on? No way.”

  “It’s not my fault if you get distracted easily,” she said with a jaunty grin and a friendly nudge of her shoulder.

  “I don’t know about you, but I sure could use a cold drink. Come on inside—I’ve got some soda and beer in the fridge.” Taking her acceptance for granted, he moved up the steps. To his surprise, she didn’t immediately follow him.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked.

  There certainly was. Hunter was too damn attractive for his own good. Even sweaty from a basketball game, wearing a simple white T-shirt and jeans. His hair was damp at the temples, accentuating the streak of gray there and increasing his wolfish look.

  “You’ve got something against cold drinks?” Hunter inquired with a lift of a dark eyebrow. “Or are you afraid that my place will be so messy that you won’t be able to bear it? Come to think of it, maybe you should wait out here while I go get the drinks. I’m not exactly a neatnik. Or you can come in and see for yourself, if you want. The choice is yours.”

  He went on inside, leaving the front door open.

  The choice was hers. She could stand out here and brood about her increasing attraction to him or she could go inside and simply enjoy Hunter’s company.

  Around the edge of the doorway, she saw him prop open the screen door invitingly. All she could see were his fingers. The long lean fingers that had soothed a baby bird’s broken wing or caressed Gaylynn’s face. The decision was made. She went inside.

  The layout of his cabin was identical to her brother’s, with the exception of a large fieldstone fireplace that took up most of one wall. The place wasn’t as messy as he’d made out, although it did have a definite lived-in look to it. Newspapers were strewn across the coffee table and a pair of shoes had been left near the couch, which was brown leather and had a woven wool blanket on it. On the walls were several paintings and a mandala. She studied the pieces while watching Hunter out of the corner of her eye. His home suited him; it was powerful and elemental. So was he. Very much so.

  Noticing her apparent interest in the paintings, he said, “The artwork is Cherokee,” before asking, “What can I get you?” as he opened the fridge door.

  A new brain, she thought to herself. The one I’ve got has a tendency to turn to mush when you’re around.

  Aloud she said, “A soda would be fine.”

  “Do you still eat those awful peanut-butter-andbanana sandwiches?” he asked her as he handed her an icy can.

  “You bet. And do you still eat those awful peanutbutter-and-ketchup sandwiches?”

  “Absolutely. I’m tempted to make one now.”

  “You do and I’m going home,” she retorted with a wrinkle of her nose.

  They went back out on the shaded front porch to sit in the pair of rockers Hunter had set out there. And as she watched the dappled sunlight strike his craggy face, Gaylynn told herself over and over again: I will not fall in love with Hunter. I will not fall in love with Hunter. I will not fall in love with Hunter.

  Even as she said the words to herself, she couldn’t help wondering if she were trying to close the barn door after the horses were already out.

  “Okay, Blue, let’s see if the cellular phone works this time,” Gaylynn murmured to the kitten as they both sat on the rocker on the front porch.

  Michael had given her the phone before she’d left Chicago with instructions to keep in touch. She’d called her parents several times in the past few weeks since she’d arrived. She’d tried to call them even more often but the connection was sketchy. She didn’t know why, maybe the surrounding mountains had something to do with it.

  “Hi, Papa,” Gaylynn greeted her father over the phone, using her nickname for him. “How is everything?”

  “Everything is fine here. Hope is taking her first steps and your mother and Brett both used a store full of film while that brother of yours filmed an epic movie of the event.”

  “And I suppose you sat there unmoved by the momentous event, hmm?” she challenged him teasingly.

  “She walks like a little chicken with her elbows stuck out behind her. You looked the same way when you started walking.”

  They talked for several minutes about Hope before her father said, “Michael tells me that he gave the Rom box to you. Have you opened it yet?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing.”

  “Nothing? You saw no one?”

  She wasn’t about to tell him that she’d seen a derelict-looking old man for fear her protective father would drive right down to get her. “Stop worrying about me, Papa.”

  “Is Hunter looking out for you?”

  “I beat him at basketball today.”

  “Good for you! All those Bulls games I took you to are paying off now.”

  “That and the fact that, because of cutbacks at school, I’ve had to teach gym classes on top of my other work. So I’ve had lots of practical experience on the basketball court.”

  “But that was in the past. No more cheap schools. When you come back you’ll apply to teach at a good school—St. Basil’s, maybe? Along the north shore where all the wealthy kids live.”

  “Wealthy kids have problems, too,” she said.

  “So when will you be coming home?” her father asked.

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Your mother said I shouldn’t pressure you about when you will be returning, but I want you to know that we miss you.”

  “I know, Papa. I miss you, too. I’ll call you again real soon, okay? Bye now.” A second later she said, “Oh, wait, I meant to ask you about the medallion inside the Rom box.”

  But her father had already hung up and the connection went dead. Gaylynn had yet to figure out what all the buttons on the phone did, so she decided to just wait and ask him next time rather than try and use the phone again. Besides, the recharge battery light was flashing red.

  Later that evening, it began to rain and a cold wind picked up. Gaylynn went back out on the porch to carry Blue inside, but the kitten didn’t trust her enough for that yet. Still, it was too cold for them to stay outside. She couldn’t bear to see them shivering.

  Putting on her sweatshirt, she kept the front door open, propping open the screen door, as well. Then she tugged on the string that Blue so loved to play with. The kitten pounced on it rambunctiously. To her relief, Spook chased after the string, too, until both kittens were inside the house. It wasn’t the first time; they’d meandered inside bef
ore but not to stay. This time she quickly shut the door.

  More tugging on the string got the kittens into the bedroom. She closed that door and went to get Cleo, stopping first in the kitchen to open a can of cat food, which she used to tempt the mama kitty inside. The meows of Cleo’s two kittens also played a part in the mother cat deciding to come inside.

  Gaylynn had already brought in supplies—cat box and litter—for the time when she’d be able to cajole the feline family inside. She quickly let Blue and Spook out of the bedroom, where they were greeted by their relieved mama. Then all three of them dug into the dishes of cat food she’d set out, one for each.

  After the food was devoured the family of cats proceeded to explore every square inch of the cabin.

  “Well, does the place meet with your approval?” Gaylynn mocking asked them.

  Cleo answered with an affirmative “mrrrrow.” Gaylynn already knew that the Siamese was a talkative cat who loved being talked to, and was always wellbred enough to reply when Spoken to. Spook on the other hand was the silent one and had taken up hiding under the end table.

  But when Gaylynn awoke in the morning it was to find all three cats on her bed. She’d checked them over the night before and hadn’t found any fleas on them, a miracle considering the woods surrounding them. “You’re safe now,” Gaylynn whispered to a purring Cleo, whose “prrrrrow” indicated her approval.

  Outside, the weather was cold and blustery, with rain showers that lasted all day long. Wispy froths of mist would go wafting by, settling over the treetops Gaylynn could see up on the ridge. They were like pieces of flotsam in a river of clouds, drifting along until they hit an obstacle, like the ridge, and then sliding along it. Watching was like looking through a white kaleidoscope of ever-changing patterns and designs. It was a great day to stay inside.

  The kittens didn’t remain in one place long enough for her to sketch them, but Cleo cooperated by curling up on the couch and sleeping there for an hour. Gaylynn was truly impressed by the sketch she did. It actually looked like a cat, and not just any cat but Cleo in particular with the darker markings around her cars and nose.