Eye of a Hunter

by Sylvie Kurtz

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position.” She tucked her legs close into her and sipped at her tea.

  “No, it’s all right.” She was scared. Thinking back to a time when life had seemed full of promises was normal.

  She shrugged, eyes blinking fast as if she were beating back tears. “I’m not usually so needy.”

  No, Abbie usually took care of everyone else’s needs before her own.

  “It’s tonight,” she said, rolling the cup between her palms. “It’s everything. It’s making me wonder about the road not taken.”

  Was it possible? Did she regret saying no? She’d deserved better than him. She still did.

  “Abbie…” His throat went dry. He drew in a breath, wanting…. what? To take her back? To take her forward? He didn’t know, so he settled on what he knew to be true. “I loved you, you know.”

  She lifted her gaze from the steam of her cup and connected. “Then why did you always keep your distance? You always sat alone—at the quarry, at lunch at school, on the bus when we went to track meets.”

  He rocked back on his heels and joked, “Someone had to make sure that equipment bags didn’t fall over on the bus.”

  “You could’ve joined, you know.” Her golden eyes remained rock serious.

  He gave a slow shake of his head. “It wasn’t really an option, Abbie. Didn’t you ever notice that anyone who talked to me ended up getting the stuffing kicked out of them?” He skimmed the back of his fingers across her cheek. “Except for you. Everyone liked you. And everyone knew you included everyone—even a loser like me.”

  “You weren’t a loser. You worked too hard to end up a failure. Anybody with two ounces of brains could see that.”

  He stared into her eyes, into that sea of goodness. “Abbie of the golden heart.”

  “I was afraid,” she said, staring back, a certain sadness crimping the sides of her eyes. “That night when you asked me to marry you.”

  “You were afraid of me?” Surprise rocked through his voice, pushing him to his feet.

  She set the cup of tea on the side table and raked her top teeth over her bottom lip, deep in thought. “Have you ever had that happen? Wanting something desperately but being afraid of it, too?”

  More often than he cared to admit. He sat beside her on the couch, hooking an arm around her shoulders. To comfort her. She needed comfort. “Maybe once.”

  Crazy, really, the way she’d pursued him like a crazed fan but had always feared taking that last step and admitting her infatuation. “You were so…intense.”

  “Comes from always having to watch all sides at once.” He pressed his nose against her hair and inhaled—as if the scent of soot and rain and dime-store shampoo was the most exquisite perfume he’d ever smelled. “You didn’t love me.”

  Of course she had. But the size of that love had frightened as much as it had addicted her. She shook her head. “It’s not that. My heart was too full. And I don’t know…it scared me.”

  “You have the biggest heart in all Echo Falls.”

  A sad smile flitted on her lips. She leaned back against his cocooning arm and looked into his eyes as clear as mirrors. “People think you’re this relaxed guy. They look at you and they think of lazy days at the beach. That’s what you want them to think. That you’re not a threat. The truth is that you’re intense. You play for keeps.”

  He tilted his head, appraising. “I wouldn’t say that. If I did, I’d still live in Echo Falls.”

  Was that a bit of yearning in his voice? Had he wanted to stay? She should have asked him to wait for her for a few years, until she’d graduated from high school. By then she’d realized what a horrible mistake she’d made, but it was too late. “How many relationships have you had since you left home?”

  He shrugged. A careless toss that tried to pretend male pride wasn’t involved. “My fair share.”

  “Real ones. Long ones.”

  His gaze narrowed as he studied her more closely. “A few.”

  “How long did they last?”

  A crooked grin revealed the beginning of his unease. “What is this? The Inquisition?”

  “How long?” she insisted. She jostled his shoulders when he hesitated, at once jealous he’d let anyone else into his heart and furious she hadn’t had the courage to stake her claim to him.

  “A while.” A hint of sadness again behind the light tone.

  “What happened?”

  The hold of his arms around her shoulder loosened as if he would let her go. “It’s ancient history, Abbie.”

  “I’m trying to prove a point,” she said, holding on tight to the waist of his borrowed sweatpants, refusing to let him sway to another topic. “What happened?”

  He leaned his temple against hers, and she couldn’t quite focus on his expression. “One couldn’t handle the long deployments when I was in the Navy. The other couldn’t handle my odd hours when I was in the Marshals Service.”

  She let out a triumphant bark. “They called it off. Not you.”

  “It was mutual, Abbie. I don’t see where you’re going with this.”

  “You’re a keeper, and I wasn’t ready for a lifetime. I was only sixteen. I wanted to say yes, but I was afraid.”

  “We were just kids,” he agreed and shrugged as if her refusal had meant nothing to him. But the heaviness of the pain she’d caused still clung to him.

  She looped her arms around his neck, placed her cheek to his heart and listened to the regular rhythm of his life force. “I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wasn’t ready to be a wife. Forever.” She shook her head. “It sounded so big.”

  “Abbie—”

  “Even back then you were a keeper, but no one in town would take you seriously. Bryn thinks you left because you’re a runner like your father. I think you had to go because you needed something that was yours and nobody here would let you have it.”

  “Including your father.”

  Her father, for all he gave his workers, saw only the outward marks of failure on Gray—the drunken mother, the absent father, the ragged clothes. What he’d never quite believed was that Gray was destined to greater things than repeating old patterns. Until special operations Gray had participated in had started making the news. “Dad would think differently today. You’ve grown into a fine man, Grayson Reed.”

  “Nobody was good enough for Elliot Holbrook’s princess.”

  “You found what you needed at Seekers, and I took it away,” she said, taken aback by the sharp arrow of pain truth brought. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “I’m responsible for my decisions. I knew the odds going in. Falconer’s a fair man. He’ll listen to my side of the story.”

  And if he didn’t? The hole in her heart seemed to grow with every beat. “You took the risk anyway.”

  She kissed him, a soft, slow, repentant kiss. An apology, that was all. He deserved that much. He was a friend. He’d put his life on the line for her.

  He slipped her legs onto his lap, pressing her body closer to his, returning her kiss hungrily. She wound her arms tighter around his neck. His skin was warm, the bone of his shoulder solid, the muscle strong. He tasted like soup—homey and healing. He smelled of Ivory and that outdoorsy musk that was uniquely his.

  How long had it been since she’d felt this safe, this whole? Slow pleasure melted and unwound, spreading until her bones had no more substance. Just for a moment she’d allow herself to savor this closeness. Until she realized how starved she was, how much she wanted him to hold her, to kiss her, to love her. Then she pulled away and stood up.

  “I should get some sleep.” And get ready for whatever came tomorrow when Rafe escaped and sought revenge.

  “Abbie—”

  Gray’s fingers cupped one elbow, spun her back to him. She gasped at the naked potency of his desire. She wanted to capture that look in his eyes on film, let the world see the real Gray—the keen intelligence, the river o
f emotion, the depth of strength. The slow heat of pleasure that had so relaxed her started to tighten into a sharp yearning.

  “I’m lost, Gray. So lost. They took everything away from me—my past, my home, my career. Where do I belong? Who am I?” She shook her head. “Leaning on you because you’re familiar…it’s a mistake.”

  Tenderness softened the hard edges of his face as he rose. “You’re right here, Abbie. All the parts that count—your spirit, your heart, your compassion—they’re inside you. No one can take those away unless you let them.”

  He’d know, of course. He’d lived through the experience in Echo Falls. And he’d survived. Look at what a wonderful man he’d forged himself into—strong, sure, solid. He fought for justice, for the people who couldn’t fight back…like her.

  He pressed his forehead against hers, the silver of his eyes warm and determined. “I’m going to make sure you get as much back of the rest as you can.”

  “What if—”

  He pressed a finger over her lips. “What if you survive? What if you testify? What if Vanderveer never sees the light of day again? What happens then?”

  The thoughts whirled in her mind, a dust devil she didn’t dare look through. Because whatever the future brought, Gray’s presence in it was still an empty space. “I don’t know. I want…I thought I wanted everything back as it was.”

  “But now?”

  A sinking feeling weighed her like anchors. “Now I want more. I want different.” I want you.

  “Then reach out for it.”

  “There’s no road map.” I’m afraid to take a wrong turn again.

  His teasing smile had her forgetting the logic of her fears. “That’s half the fun of traveling—seeing where you’ll end up.”

  “What if I end up alone?” What happens when you leave again?

  “Honey, as long as you let your sunshine glow, you’ll never be alone. You can’t help it. You draw people to you. All you have to do is sit down on a park bench and some stranger’ll start telling you their story and you’ll want to take their picture and before you know it, you’re fast friends.”

  “Sunshine?”

  “Golden sunshine.” The reflection of it in his eyes made her blink at its brightness. “Just be who you are, Abbie. The woman with the sunny smile who can talk to anybody and make them feel good. The woman who listens and lets the speaker find his own solution. The woman who points a camera at someone and lets them see the best of themselves.”

  “I do that?”

  “Did you ever doubt it?”

  Every day, when everything and everyone pulled in a thousand different directions, and she couldn’t be sure which was the voice of her heart.

  “When did you stop dreaming, Abbie?”

  She buried her face against his throat, let the strong beat of his pulse reassure her. “The day my father died.”

  “Then it’s high time you started again. Because if you don’t, then Vanderveer wins no matter what happens.”

  Gray’s energy and his faith in her had her imagining possibilities once more. And when the shock of seeing a future for herself dissipated, an eye of calm centered her. That feeling of inner peace came only when she lost herself in her work, in her art, observing life behind the lens of a camera. Why had she never aimed it in her own direction? This sure and focused feeling now, in a man’s arms, was new to her. Grounding. Empowering.

  Her past was stolen, made to disappear as if it had never existed. Her present was a rocky road that seemed to have no end. Her future was nothing more than a dim light. The constant along that line was Gray. He shared her past. He shared her present. And if she let herself open up to the possibility, he could share her future.

  “Gray.” She straightened and met his gaze straight on. “Let me take your picture.”

  “Me?” Color creeping up his neck, he started to pull away.

  With a flick of her hand on his chest, she pushed him into the cushions of the couch. “Yes, you.”

  “Abbie…”

  She dug into the canvas tote and pulled out the camera she’d taken from Serena’s attic. The first camera she’d bought for herself. The one that had truly made her believe she could earn a living taking photographs. The compact number fit nicely in her hand. Serena hadn’t liked the manual focusing ring because by the time she thought she had her subject focused the expression she’d wanted was gone.

  Abbie lifted the camera to her eye. She framed her composition. She adjusted the aperture and depth of field so the background of fieldstones would blur, showing off the strength of Gray’s cheekbones, the hint of dimples on his cheeks, the soft curve of his lips, the bottomless depth of his silver eyes. “Let me show you the best in you.”

  He looked stiff and formal, posing like a model at a shoot. Not for long. She bit down on her lips, holding in the smile bursting to get out. “Gray?”

  “Hmm.” He leaned back against the couch, throwing an arm carelessly over the folded quilt tossed over the plaid cushion, so blatantly uncomfortable with her attention that her heart softened. Light and shadow played over the planes and angles of his face. Only one thing was missing.

  Finger ready on the shutter release, she whispered, “Let me seduce you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “What?” Gray’s heart jackhammered in his chest, making him wonder if he’d heard right. Seduce him? Abbie? Was he in heaven or in hell?

  The camera in her hands flashed at him midstun. What had she captured? Too much. Way too much. The thought sobered him instantly.

  “You said I should reach out for what I want.” She leaned over him as he sat paralyzed on the couch and kissed him deeply, pouring out all the sunshine that resided inside her into him, frying him as the fire at the gallery almost had.

  Then she whispered, “I want you. I’ve always wanted you. Even when I had to let you go.”

  The cogs in his mind weren’t quite catching right and he couldn’t put together a thought that held. “No, Abbie—”

  Her smile against his lips winged straight to his groin. “You know, for a guy, you talk too much.”

  He wanted to take what she was offering. He wanted—But he couldn’t. Not until he was sure this wasn’t just his fantasy going out of control. Not until his responsibility toward her was done. Not until she was safe and back in her home, in her world. And then she would realize that he didn’t fit. He couldn’t go back to Echo Falls any more than she could leave it. Nothing had changed. And he wouldn’t take advantage of her in this vulnerable state—as much as he wanted to. This was Abbie.

  He must be crazy. Certifiable. He was turning down a night with the golden girl of his dreams. Keep this on a professional level. Getting Abbie to the trial alive and able to testify—that was the important thing. His job.

  Focus on that. Hands off, hotshot. Now back away.

  He lifted his hands at his side in surrender, and she took it the wrong way.

  Her golden eyes gleamed. Her smile, with its knowing feminine power, set off a chain reaction of raw male response. He cursed, but it didn’t do him any good. His hands reached for her. His mouth opened for her. His blood sang for her. He was out of his mind crazy and he couldn’t seem to work up enough outrage to get a grip on sanity.

  She seduced him with her sweet determination. She seduced him with her intoxicating desire. She seduced him with her hands and her lips and her body.

  Palms pressed firmly against his shoulders, she worked her way down his chest, then his ribs. She stroked his hip, his thigh. When she reversed directions and wrapped her fingers around him over the borrowed sweats, he jerked, stopped breathing, stopped thinking. He was helpless to do anything except sink into the pleasure.

  Answering her touch with his own, he plunged his hands under her sweatshirt and slow-skidded his palms over every one of her ribs. Her pupils grew wider with every inch of territory he explored, drawing him a step closer to sheer insanity. Her mouth opened as he let his palms rest over her bare b
reasts, balancing their erotic weight. He couldn’t help it, he groaned. He lifted the sweatshirt up and over her head and frowned at the fading bruise on her chest staring down at him. Frowned at the flash drive dangling on its chain, a blatant reminder of everything that was at stake.

  He rolled Abbie onto her back on the wide couch, swiped the flash drive out of the way and traced the ugly yellow-green mark with a finger. He bent his head to her chest and kissed the bruise. She’d earned it when he’d tackled her on the island, when the dying sun had caught the steel of Pamela’s weapon, warning him of danger.

  “You saved my life that day,” she said, her voice honey-warm as she guided his hands to her breasts once more. She tangled her fingers in his hair, then moaned in appreciation when he stroked her nipples with his tongue.

  “Or maybe you saved mine.” The knowing rang through him so clearly, he froze. Why hadn’t he seen the obvious before? “Pamela shot three deputy marshals through motel windows. She hit a cop on a running boat.” All those times she’d positioned herself far enough to get away cleanly. And she hadn’t aimed at Abbie until he’d run up behind her. Pamela had made a clean shot each time, missing him only because he’d tackled Abbie. “But she’s missed you all of those times.”

  “Tonight she shot at both of us.” Abbie brushed her fingers at his temple and looked at him as if he could give her everything she wanted.

  “That shot through the windshield hit my backrest.”

  “Oh, Gray. I should never have let you stay.” She brought his head down to meet hers and kissed him again. He should object. He just couldn’t remember why.

  “It wouldn’t have mattered,” he said. “I couldn’t let you face danger alone.”

  She made him feel warm inside, as if he’d been out in the cold too long and unaware of the ice growing on him. He hadn’t closed himself off. Not really. But a guy like him had to put a barrier between him and the world. Abbie made the protection seem unnecessary. As if all she saw, raw and artless, pleased her.