Page 30 of Hunter

But when he let his hand drift lower to softly trace the rounded swell of her breast to brush across the hardened tip, her eyes snapped open. She had been lulled into a state of self-indulgence, and she had let this go far beyond the bounds of what was right. “No.” The denial came out high and shaky.

He raised his head, his eyes questioning hers.

“We can’t do that,” she said, still unable to bring her voice under control.

“Why not?” he asked. “It feels good.” He searched her face. “You said people should do things that make them feel—happy.” The word came from his mouth haltingly, as though he were speaking a foreign language.

“Yes. But there are limits—conventions.” She felt trapped in a tangle of words.

“You didn’t like it?”

She had promised not to lie to him. She wouldn’t do it now. And she wouldn’t lie to herself. “I liked it,” she said in a whisper.

“Yes. I can see it. Your face has a wonderful color to it now. And your eyes are softer.”

She felt more blood rush to the surface of her skin.

“It feels bad to stop,” he said in a harsh voice. We should do more.”

She shook her head, trying to remember that she was supposed to be in control of this situation. “The man and woman you saw were—lovers.”

He thought about that for several seconds. “Lovers. That means mates?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

A look of comprehension dawned on his face. “They were going to join their bodies? Here?” He reached down and gestured toward the rigid flesh that swelled at the front of his sweatpants.

She nodded, trying not to feel the words in her center. “How do you know about that?”

“The On-Line Encyclopedia. I read it when I have a little time to relax. And if I want more information, I Google the subject.”

She made a strangled exclamation.

“And the men talk about—sex. They boast about the women they have. I would never talk about you. Never,” he added with strong conviction.

“I know.”

“In the locker room, you said we were friends. Can friends do it?” he asked.

Not trusting herself to speak, she shook her head. It was growing dark around them, yet she saw his eyes close and his face contort in disappointment

God, how had all this happened so quickly she wondered, reeling from an onslaught of emotions. He might have no memories of social interaction, but she should have had more sense than to allow such intimacy.

“I must not touch you now,” he said before taking a step back and pressing his cheek against the rough bark of a tree.

He looked as if he ached in every bone and muscle of his body. She might have turned away to cut off her own feeling of regret. Instead, she stood staring at him, willing her heart rate to return to normal. It was difficult when she could still feel the imprint of his touch on her body. She had to think. Yet thinking had become almost impossible.

She was suddenly aware that the air had grown heavy with the smell of rain. Now leaves began to fly.

Before she could figure out what to say, a crack of lightning pierced the darkness.

“It is not safe here,” he said. “Lightning could strike one of the trees. We must go back.”

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Frank Decorah paced to the window, then turned and started back across the room. Jonah watched him, sharing his frustration. For the past few days they’d been trying to figure out a way to get a message to Kathryn Kelley. So far nothing had panned out.

They had never gotten through to her on the phone. She had answered no letters. And every chatty E-mail message to her old address had been rejected.

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