Heart Of A Hunter. Sylvie Kurtz
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called it so affectionately at first. Now there was a trace of resentment that left a bitter taste at the back of her throat. At the door she hesitated.
Bent over his paperwork, he was surrounded by all sorts of electronic gadgets that could have come from a science fiction movie set. His mind was focused, laser-sharp on his task. The lean muscles of his trackerâs body were controlled. Sheâd seen this stance often enough to recognize he was detaching himself from one world and trying to reconnect with another. Why did that passage make her so sad?
Sheâd lived with him for ten years. She knew everything about him. The way he brushed his teeth. The way he peppered his corn. The way he checked the oil in her car before he left on assignment. But she didnât know his heart. After all these years, he still kept it to himself, its contents as secret as his operations.
He loved her. She had no doubt about that. But she wanted it allâthe bad and the good. Not just the castle in the air heâd provided for her. To keep her safe, heâd said. But here in the rarified air she didnât know what she was capable of. And the longing for flightâfor something moreâgrew every day. Especially when he was gone, and she was left alone with her thoughts.
Her heartâalways so openâhad lately closed a little. She found herself keeping things from himâthoughts she knew would upset him, musings he would take the wrong way, feelings he wouldnât understand. She didnât like that extra barrier between them, didnât like the way they were growing apart. Her fault. Sebastian hadnât changed. He was the same driven man sheâd met at one of her fatherâs business functions eleven years ago. She was the one with the curl of anxiety gnawing at her.
She loved him. She always would. Just watching him and all his intense self-assurance made her soul sing like nothing else could. But where was the answering melody? Sheâd signed on for a duet and lately had become aware she was singing a solo.
He looked up from his work and smiled. The brightness of it caught her breath just as it had the first time. One touch. That was all it would take to evaporate her resolve. She slid her gaze from his. If she looked into his eyes, she would stay and she needed to go.
âIâm almost done,â he said, turning back to his work.
She hugged herself and leaned against the door frame. âTake your time. I just wanted to say good-night.â
He glanced at his watch and frowned. âSo early?â
âIâm leaving, Sebastian.â The hard thud of her heart nearly drowned out her words.
âLeaving? I donât understand.â
No, he wouldnât. He could see through the eyes of evil, but the working of his own wifeâs mind was alien. âIâm going to my sisterâs for a while.â As much as Paula wanted her to leave Sebastian, she would not approve of her plan, either.
âI just got home.â
âI know. I waited for you.â And that, she realized, had been a mistake. She should have taken the cowardâs way out and left while he was gone. âI didnât want you coming home to a note.â
After all the years theyâd shared, sheâd owed him that much. Sheâd thought hearing of her departure from her would hurt less than words scribbled on paper. She hadnât counted on seeing the ridges of fatigue drooping the corners of his eyes and bracketing his mouth. She hadnât known the pain in his eyes would arrow straight to her gut. And in the past month, sheâd talked herself out of the power of his magnetism.
âIâve missed you,â he said. âCanât this wait?â
âNo, Iâ¦â She knitted her fingers and breathed in courage. âI need to get away for a bit.â She needed to prove to him she could fit in his world, and she thought the course in criminal justice at the community college in Nashua would give her a startâa point from which to connect. But if she told him, he would talk her out of it. Where would that leave them? Right where they were, and she couldnât go on like this.
He closed his eyes and blew out a huff of frustration. âOlivia, Iâm tired. Canât we talk this over in the morning?â
By morning, sheâd have melted into him and it would be too late. âNo, I need to do this.â
He went predator-still. Never a good sign. âThis isnât just a vacation.â His dark gaze bored into her, making her feel caught in a trap. Was that how his prey felt when he closed in on them? âYouâre leaving me.â
She shifted to the outside of the door frame. âIâm not leaving you.â How could she explain? How could she make him understand? âIâm going to myself, not away from you.â
âThat doesnât make sense.â He gave her a puzzled look and rose from his black ergonomic office chair. He took one slow step. She had to hurry while she still could.
Looking down at her hands so primly knotted in front of her, she licked her dry lips and focused on her goal. Everything else sheâd tried to dissolve the barrier between them had failed. âYouâre a contained man, Sebastian, and I need to spill over. For a little while. Until I figure out where you end and where I start.â
âI donât understand.â The pain slashing his features twisted inside her. He took another step forward. Though she wanted to flee, she held her ground.
âIâve known you since I was seventeen. We were married when I was eighteen. You have five years on me. You knew what you wanted out of life. This.â She arched her arm to encompass not only the room, but all of the house. âYou. Itâs all Iâve known for the past ten years.â
âI thought you loved the house.â Another step. She stiffened.
âI do.â Sheâd helped design it herself. The way the light played with the shadows, the way it fit snugly into the rocky New Hampshire landscape as if it belonged, the way each room was a restful den, made it a home, not merely a house. âItâs not the house.â
âThe village then.â His gun hand flexed. He wouldnât let her go. âYou feel isolated.â
âNo, itâs not Wintergreen.â How could she resent a place where everyone knew her and treated her like a friend? If she wanted a taste of the city, Keene, Nashua, Manchester werenât that far. Even Boston was only a few hours away. She straightened against the stone wall and hugged herself tighter.
He stopped, let his head drop to his chest, then blazed her with a look of such sadness she nearly closed the distance between them to comfort him. âIâm sorry I canât give you the baby you want.â
That was a tiny bit closer to the truth. Without that common goal, the wall between them seemed to get thicker. But a baby wouldnât fix the hollowness growing inside her. Until Sebastian trusted her with all of himself, a baby would only complicate the situation. âItâs not the baby.â
He took another step. They stood close enough for breath to mix with breath. He knew her weakness and was going to use it against her. âThen what is it, Olivia?â The reverberation of his voice was cat smooth and cougar dangerous. âHelp me out here. I donât understand.â
Then she made her second mistake. She touched him. Just a whisper of finger against the roughness of his beard. The heat of it shivered through her. The want, the need. His. Hers. âItâs the waiting and the worrying. Itâs killing me.â
âItâs my job.â
âI know.â And she did. She understood how his parentsâ murder at the hands of an escaped convict had driven