Hunter. Diana Palmer
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I’ll have my shower. Then we’ll think about something for dinner.”
She was watching him as helplessly as a teenage girl staring at a movie star. He was beautiful. God, he was beautiful, she thought with pleasure so deep it rivaled pain. Muscles rippled in his dark torso from the low-slung belt on his jeans to the width of his shoulders as he stretched, and her eyes sketched him with shy adoration.
He was aware of her scrutiny, but he pretended not to notice. He got a change of clothes to carry into the bathroom with him and turned, faintly amused by the way she busied herself with her computer and pretended to ignore him.
Her helpless stare had piqued his curiosity. He deliberately paused just in front of her, giving her an unnecessarily good view of his broad, naked chest.
“Don’t forget to keep the door locked,” he advised quietly, watching the flicker of her lashes as she lifted her blue eyes to his. “And don’t answer it if someone knocks.”
“Yes, sir, is that all, sir?” she asked brightly.
He caught her chin with a lean hand and his thumb brushed roughly over her mouth, a slow, fierce intimacy that he watched with almost scientific intensity. She knew her eyes were wildly dilated as they looked into his, and she couldn’t help the shocked gasp that broke from her sensitized lips or the shiver of pleasure that ran through her body.
His dark eyes didn’t miss a thing. Her reaction, he decided, was definitely not fear. He couldn’t decide if he was pleased about it or not. “Don’t be provocative,” he said softly, his voice an octave deeper, faintly threatening. “Get to work.” He moved away before she could find anything to say that wouldn’t be provocative.
She sat down at her computer, her fingers trembling on the keyboard.
He closed the bathroom door behind him. His action had been totally unexpected, and it made her even more nervous than she already was. If he was going to start doing that kind of thing, she’d be safer in the lion cage at the zoo.
She was uncertain of him and of herself. Being around him in such close quarters was going to be a test of her self-control. She only hoped that she wouldn’t give herself away. She’d had some naive idea that because Hunter disliked women, he didn’t sleep with them. But she was learning that he knew a lot more than she did, and the sultry look in his dark eyes really frightened her. If she didn’t watch her step, she was going to wind up with more than she’d bargained for.
His motives were what bothered her most. He didn’t like white women, especially her, so what had prompted that action? She didn’t want to consider the most evident possibility—that he thought she was fair game, and he had seduction on his mind. She ground her teeth together. Well, he could hold his breath. She wasn’t going to be any man’s light amusement. Not even his.
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