Page 73 of Hunter

He didn’t answer, and she suspected he was still afraid to trust anything good coming into his life. She would teach him differently and teach him how much a man and a woman could mean to each other.

But for the moment, she was exhausted.

“How long can we stay here?” she murmured, her lids fluttering closed.

“Until dark.”

“Good.”

“Then I will get you away from Stratford Creek.”

Her eyes opened, searched his. “And you’ll stay with me, get me to—to a place of safety,” she clarified.

“Yes”

Perfect. If he could get them off the grounds, she would make sure Emerson and Swinton never got their hands on him again.

She wanted to talk about escape plans, ask when he had made the decision. But emotional turmoil and lack of sleep had finally taken its toll. For the time being, it was enough to know she was safe with him and that he would take her away from Stratford Creek. She closed her eyes, snuggled close to him, and drifted off to sleep.

###

Dr. Jules Kolb’s face was set in hard lines as he slipped through the trees behind the guest cottage. His breath coming in painful gasps, he waited under the shade of the branches, watching the house. He was too old and used up for this. And he knew it would be disastrous for him to get caught inside, but he was going to take the chance. Because there was no better time—with every available security patrol out searching the grounds.

News of the explosion had taken him by surprise when he’d been writing up notes on a patient’s records. He’d heard two of the nurses babbling excitedly and was about to yell at them to keep it down so he could work. Then he’d caught the name “John Doe.” Slamming his pen down on the desk, he’d run out into the hall to find out what in the name of Sam Hill was going on.

Everybody was talking about it. But nobody was sure what had happened. A team had gone out to the site of the explosion, but they hadn’t found anything. Now they were searching farther along the lake and in the woods.

He couldn’t repress a high laugh as he wondered whether he should be excited or upset. It all depended on whether Reid was telling the truth. He’d told Emerson that the clone had set explosive charges on the cabin at the end of the pier in order to kill Kathryn Kelley. Reid had tried to stop him, but he’d been too late. How many people had believed that absurd story?

The staff meeting had been a zoo, he thought, with everyone pointing fingers. Swinton was angry that Kelley had ever been brought into the project, and Anderson kept saying that the fault was in basic specifications of the program. That was one of the little bastard’s basic themes. Luckily, that had turned Swinton’s wrath on his subordinate. Emerson had tried to quiet things down. But it was obvious he’d lost control of the meeting.

Kolb sighed. At least no one had turned on him. But now Emerson would go back through the records. And that was bad news.

He had to press his hands against his sides to keep them from shaking. Muttering under his breath, he began to move toward the sliding glass door in one of the bedrooms. Weeks ago, he’d discovered the defect in the doors. One of them had a flaky locking mechanism. All you had to do was lift the glass panel upward, and you could disengage the latch.

Grasping the handle with shaky fingers, he pulled upward, straining with the effort, uttering an explosive curse when the panel refused to come free. Then it suddenly gave, and he almost hit his damn hands against his chin.

Yanking the door open, he stepped inside. Quickly he checked the bedroom. Finding nothing of interest, he made his way down the hall and spotted the computer sitting on the dining room table. When he saw what was on the screen, he sucked in a sharp breath. So, she’d found out about Ben Lancaster! With a shaky hand, he reached out and closed the file, then removed the thumb drive from the machine.

###

When Kathryn opened her eyes again, she sensed that time had passed. Turning her head, she looked at Hunter. He had covered them with an extra blanket and lay with his arm possessively around her.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he answered, reaching to touch her cheek.

“Did you sleep?” she asked.

“A little. Then I got up and went out to set alarms. I want to know if someone comes near this place.”

“I would have worried if I’d woken up and found you gone,” she murmured.

“You were very tired—after the explosion. And the swim.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “And making love.”

She nodded.

“You didn’t wake up even when I got back under the covers and held you,” he said, his voice full of tenderness and a kind of wonder. “I watched your face. It was peaceful. And your breathing was even. You felt safe here—with me.”

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