Page 58 of Hunter

“Yes. Even me. Like James Harrison.”

She gathered him into her embrace, glad when his arms tightened around her. She drew strength from him, even as she gave him comfort.

His hands moved on her back, in her hair. “Feeling things is. . .” he paused for a moment, searching for the right word, “inconvenient.”

“Yes, sometimes feelings are hard to deal with,” she answered, “but that’s part of being human.”

He gave a low, mirthless laugh. “You are the only person here who thinks of me as human.”

Her vision blurred, and she fought to keep from coming undone. “Because they can’t let themselves!” she said vehemently, cradling him more tightly in her arms. “It’s a defense mechanism. They know they’ve done things to you that are morally and ethically wrong. The only way they can protect themselves is by making you the enemy.”

“I didn’t think about it like that.” A shiver went through him. “I thought it was something wrong with me.”

“No!”

“But thereissomething wrong with me,” he persisted. “You must know I’m not like other people. I have no history before I woke up in the research facility at Stratford Creek. I know how to be a fighter. I don’t know the rest.”

“That’s not true. You know more than you think,” she insisted, her lips skimming his cheek. “Take my word for it.”

He moved back, his eyes bright as they searched hers. “What do you like about me?” he demanded.

She raised her face, met his worried gaze. “I like your kindness. Your discipline. Your honesty. I like the way you haven’t given up.”

“Maybe I did give up—before you came.”

She felt her heart squeeze painfully. “Then I’m glad I’m here.”

“You—” He stopped, swallowed hard. “I think I have learned more from you than any of the rest of them.”

“I hope so. But I think we’re learning from each other,” she murmured.

“Like what?” he asked incredulously.

She gave a little laugh. “Well, I didn’t know much about turning off hidden recording systems until I met you.”

“Beckton could teach you that,” he said dismissively.

“I’m not interested in interacting with Beckton. But seeing things through your eyes gives me a fresh view of the world.” When his dark gaze continued to challenge her, she went on quickly. “You remind me how much enjoyment there is in simple things. Like music. Or cherry pie with ice cream. Or—” she stopped short, flushing as she realized what she had been about to say.

The flush gave her away. Hunter found her hand, stroked his fingers against hers, sending familiar currents of heat licking at her nerve endings. Her breath gave a little hitch as she stared at him.

“When I kiss you and touch you, what do you feel?” he asked with an urgency that turned the heat up several notches.

“The same thing you feel, I think,” she answered softly.

His face was a study in stunned disbelief. “You want to. . . to mate with me?”

Dangerous ground. They were treading on very dangerous ground, yet she had vowed not to duck his questions. “Yes. I want to make love with you.” she said, raising her face until their gazes were locked.

She saw him swallow hard. Another man would have reached for her then. Pulled her against himself, fast and hard. Taken up where they’d left off in her bedroom. But he only stood with his whole body tight and stiff, fighting primal needs, proving once again that he had more strength of character than almost any man she’d ever met.

She could be the one to do the reaching. She could be the one to do things that would break through his iron discipline. God, it was tempting to make it happen. Now. For a little while they could blot out the intrigue swirling around them. But it would only be a temporary reprieve. And in the morning, their situation would be worse. Every hour they spent in this place made it worse.

“I should read some more of the personnel files,” she whispered.

“Yes.” He agreed, yet neither one of them moved.

When he spoke again, it wasn’t of personnel files. “None of the men call it making love,” he said in a thick voice. “They say having sex or—screwing or fucking.” He stopped, flushed. “They make it sound—dirty. But I can tell they are embarrassed, too. Why is that?”

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