Wanting Hunter: Book 1 in the Cameron Family Saga

by Shirley Larson

  “Excuse me?” She looked at him, incredulous that he would wrap those long fingers around her arm and even more amazed that he thought he had the right to interfere in her life. “Where I go and what I do is none of your business.”

  “You’re wrong. You made it my business when you stood across that room and made love to me with your eyes and then practically seduced me on your couch.”

  “My…finding you attractive does not give you the right to order me around.” She ticked off the reasons on her fingers. “We’re not married, we’re not engaged, I’m not even wearing your cute little fraternity pin. I’m flying out tonight to entertain men and women who risk their lives for me every day. I promised to go and I am. I have an obligation, and I’m going to fulfill it whether you like it or not.” Her face flushed with temper, Liz shook loose from Hunter’s grasp, grabbed Jocelyn by the wrist and stalked out of the center to call a cab before Hunter could do anything to stop her.

  Hunter stood alone on the curb and when the black Mercedes rolled up, he climbed in the back seat. What kind of a universe sent his brother and a beautiful woman with a generous heart into a war zone filled with IED bombs and sniper bullets? He hadn’t even thought to ask her to email him every day so he would know she was safe. How stupid was that? Maybe Justin could get a message to her.

  ***

  Ever afterwards, when she thought of her time in Afghanistan, Liz remembered it as a roller coaster of emotions. Arriving at night, no sound of birds or scuttling animals, pure apprehension. Learning very quickly to be grateful for the few amenities they had, a three minute lukewarm shower, a lovely meal at night at a table with the military personnel. A rueful realization that her makeup was just this side of frozen while she changed clothes in a chilly tent. Learning to go out in a skimpy strapless dress and hide the fact that she was freezing. Pure joy at performing for men and woman in a sea of fatigues. Finding new meaning in the words to every song she sang, digging deeper inside herself for the emotions she could convey to her marvelous audiences, who were totally quiet and absorbed during her performances and burst into riotous applause when she finished. Doing a lot of improvising, going with her gut to think of what to say to these courageous men and women. Keeping things light while looking out into those eyes that had seen too much, that wore hurt that couldn’t be disguised by a stiff upper lip. Explaining how actors knew what it was to be in a troop, to have esprit de corps. Singing “Getting to Know You” and passing through the troops, shaking hands, touching shoulders, bringing them contact from the outside world. Making them smile with Gershwin’s “I Got Rhythm” and Ruby and Bloom’s, “Give Me the Simple Life.” Watching their eyes glisten with tears while she sang, “Hello, Young Lovers.” Singing her last song, the powerful and moving Diane Warren song, sung by Beyoncé “I Was Here,” reminding them that their lives made a difference, that the world knew that they were an important part of the human family. By this time, men and women alike were unashamedly wiping tears from their eyes. When she finished, the applause nearly raised the roof. Liz put the microphone back on the stand and clipped off the stage in her high heels, letting the tears flow, thinking she wouldn’t have missed this experience for anything in the world. Seeing those faces…so quiet, so intent on listening to the lyrics of every song, so lonely and longing for home, moved her as nothing ever had.

  At the last performance, Liz told them that she was going home, but that she would carry each and every one of them in her heart. When she came off the stage, fighting to control her tears, knowing how much she would miss seeing all of them, a soldier came up to her. He said he was from Rochester and he introduced himself as Justin Cameron. “Saw you and my brother on the video.”

  Quickly she said, “You do know Alex was playing a joke on Hunter, don’t you?”

  “Oh, yeah. Alex is carrying on in my stead.” Justin broke out in a big grin. “Alex thinks Hunter’s interested in you. I hope he’s right. You’re just what my uptight brother needs. You are one incredible lady.”

  “I thank you for the compliment, kind sir. And about Hunter. There is absolutely nothing between us.” Yet.

  “Oh, yeah? Alex thinks otherwise. And Alex is never wrong.” Justin grinned at her. He was drop dead handsome even in fatigues. In deference to her, he had removed his helmet and his hair, normally blond, was bleached even lighter by the sun. His huge green eyes didn’t hurt him any, either. He was as tall as his brother and he had the same broad shoulders, but he was narrower in the waist. “Would you mind having a picture taken with me?”

  “Of course not.” She moved in close and put her arm around Justin’s waist as much as she could over his gear. The camera clicked. It occurred to her that she couldn’t let Justin just leave. He moved to step away, but before he could, Liz grabbed his arm and pulled him toward her to give him a passionate goodbye kiss on the lips. The camera man knew a money shot when he saw it. The camera clicked again. “That’s for good luck,” she told a stunned Justin as she stepped away.

  “That ought to do it,” Justin said, grinning. “I can’t wait to forward this one to my brother.

  Chapter 7

  On the flight back, the visions of the last month played constantly in Liz’s head…and in her heart. She’d done a gig in one of the makeshift hospitals and it had killed her to see men and women who were injured with arms and legs in wraps, waiting for transport home. Liz made the decision then and there to support the USO and do everything she could to help the men and women in the military. She’d never forget her time with them.

  On the flight home, their military transport was only a few miles out from JFK when the pilot announced that the plane’s landing gear was malfunctioning and it would be a rough landing. There was utter silence in the cabin. No one said a word as the flight attendants began handing out pillows and blankets and giving them instructions on grabbing their knees as well as using their seat cushions as floatation devices. She thought, how ironic. I’ve survived a war zone only to come home and get killed in a plane crash.

  Inside Hunter Cameron’s office, Paula brought the New York Times in to lay on his desk. “Have you seen this?” There was a picture of Justin in his fatigues and Liz Farnsworth kissing him passionately. Under the picture was a brief article about the cast of The King and I touring for the USO. Well, thought Hunter with a sense of irony, both his brothers had tasted her kiss. Nice to keep it in the family.

  “And this.” Paula turned the TV station that played in Hunter’s office from the business channel to the local New York station. Filling the screen was a picture of a jet military airliner in the air. An announcer came on with a voice over. “The plane has been identified as the one returning from Afghanistan carrying a USO troop of Broadway stage personnel. The landing gear has malfunctioned and the pilot must attempt a belly landing. These brave entertainers who performed for our service men and women are now in danger themselves.”

  Hunter grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “Call Milton. Tell him I’ll meet him in the garage.”

  To Liz, the landing was every bit as much of a nightmare as they were told it would be. Luggage compartments popped open and spilled suitcases into the aisle. Even though they were belted in, they were jounced around in their seats. And the terrible grating sound of the plane’s belly on the runway. It was so intense Liz was sure they were all going to die. The grinding of metal against concrete seemed to go on forever. Then suddenly, all movement stopped. They were on the ground and they were safe.

  Liz managed to get her heart back from the top of her throat. There was applause for the pilot bringing in the plane safely. Then everybody began talking and trying to get their belongings. At last, those in the front of the plane started to file out. To Liz, the seriousness of their situation was brought home when she stood at the top of the stairs and saw the fire trucks. There were four, and two other tank trucks carrying fire retardant. She didn’t really relax until she walked into JFK and was directed to customs. While she s
at there waiting, the aftermath of her fear gripped her. Liz starting shivering and she had the odd feeling of being boneless.

  Once free of all the official business of returning and fortified with a cup of black coffee one of the attendants handed her, Liz gathered up her suitcase and her carryall and went on shaking legs to look for a cab, when a man in a chauffeur’s navy blue jacket and cap said, “Miss Farnsworth?”

  “Yes?” she said warily.

  “I’m to offer you a ride home in Mr. Cameron’s limousine.”

  A ride home in Mr. Cameron’s limousine sounded wonderful…as long as Mr. Cameron wasn’t in it. She was in no shape to face him. But if she accepted, it would save her the one hundred dollar plus fee for a cab ride to her apartment.

  “In case, you’re apprehensive about following me, I was to give you this phone and tell you to call him.”

  This convinced her that Hunter was not close by. “I’m not apprehensive about following you…what is your name?”

  “Milton, ma’am.”

  “That’s your first name?”

  “That’s what I’m called. My father was an antiquities scholar.”

  “Wow. Mine is a mechanic in a car repair shop.”

  “Much more practical, ma’am.”

  All the while they were having this conversation, he led her out to the parking lot. As they stood beside a black Mercedes, Milton opened the rear door.

  I said, “This is very nice, Milton. Thank you…” Her speech died in her throat. Hunter Cameron sat on the other side of the back seat.

  To Hunter, she looked so different from the sleek, well-groomed Broadway star he’d seen at the gala or the mischievous girl in bunny pajamas. She looked shell-shocked. Her hair lay in disarray around her head, springing loose from the top knot she’d fashioned, her fingernails lacked the pristine manicure she usually had, and her jeans were wrinkled. It hurt him to see the obvious signs of what she’d been through. Still, she was here, and she was whole. His relief nearly overwhelmed him. It took everything he had not to pull her into his arms and smother her with kisses. But he wouldn’t. What she needed right now was a chance to recover without having him pounce on her, no matter how much he wanted to.

  “Hunter,” she said, as Milton relieved her of her baggage. “I didn’t know you’d be here…in your own car….offering me a ride home…I thought you were at work…” Oh, great. She was babbling like an idiot.

  “Would you please get in? We need to move the car on.”

  He looked as if he’d just hustled out of the office. His tie was pulled down, his jacket collar slightly askew. His hair was mussed as if he’d dragged his hand through it repeatedly. Had he been worried about her? To her, Hunter had never been out of her mind the whole time she was gone. Now here he sat, and he looked so good. How could she hide from him the powerful attraction he had for her when she was so tired? But she had to try.

  “Not a particularly good landing,” he said.

  She had to smile at that. “Master of the understatement, aren’t you?”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He dropped down a shelf to reveal a whiskey bottle and two glasses. “I have an antidote here, if the lady is interested.”

  “The lady would be definitely be interested, thank you very much.” She accepted the glass with a shaking hand then put her other hand around it. “You do understand that the lady doesn’t make a habit of this, accepting rides with strange men in limousines and drinking their liquor.”

  “I don’t know when the lady would have time. She’s been too busy flirting with her extinction. Your mouth is up here.” He put his warm, large hand around her fingers and guided the glass to her mouth. “Drink. Slowly.”

  She obeyed. The whiskey burned, but it didn’t have the same effect as his hand over hers. He brought the glass up to her mouth again and she took another sip before shaking her head. “That’s all. Thank you.”

  He stowed the glass back into a compartment and it all mysteriously disappeared.

  Small talk. She could make small talk with Hunter Cameron, of course she could. “I met your brother, Justin, while I was over there.”

  “How did he seem?” He settled back into the corner opposite her. If she wanted to play the small talk game, he was willing.

  “He seemed nice. Personable.” It was hard to remember Justin when Hunter sat so coolly poised next to her. That beautiful face, even though it was so hard to read, was such a welcome sight. And his beautiful eyes and his beautiful lips and his beautiful body…

  “Justin is always personable.”

  What were they talking about? Oh, yes, Justin. “I kissed him. I hope you don’t mind.”

  He quirked one eyebrow and looked utterly adorable. “For my sake or his?”

  “For his, I guess. Certainly your sake doesn’t play into it.”

  “I’d say my sake sure as hell plays into it. It seems to me that now that you’ve kissed all my brothers, it must be my turn again.”

  “Hunter, please. I’m tired and I’m unnerved and I...”

  “But you’re not saying no.” The slight rustle of his clothes moving against the leather seat warned her. Then he closed in on her, taking her mouth with a sweet gentleness that had her moving into him, putting her hands on his chest to steady herself. But his arms slid around her back and he pulled her so close that the only place for her arms to go was around his waist.

  Safe. He was so strong, so warm, so safe. Such an antidote to all the things she’d seen, all the things she’d been through. She returned his kiss, opening to receive his tongue, inviting him into her mouth. She didn’t want the kiss to end, but when it did, she lay in his arms, wanting, needing his warmth, his strength. He murmured in her ear, “You are killing me.”

  She lifted her head to look into his face, genuinely alarmed. “What?”

  He reached forward to brush a tendril of hair behind her ear. “First you are seen bent over backwards with my brother. Then you rush off to Afghanistan where you could be killed at any moment.” That questing finger traced the shell of her ear, sending shivers of longing through her. “Then I see you kissing my baby brother. Then you nearly get killed in a plane crash. Now when I have you in my arms, so damned grateful that you’ve come back to me in one piece, you’re telling me you’re too tired. Too tired for what, Liz?”

  “Too tired to do the sensible thing and keep my distance from you.”

  His hand brought her chin up so that she looked directly at him. “It might be sensible but it’s not much fun.”

  “Would it be fun to be with you?”

  “It damn well better be,” he said, in that deep dark voice. “But while I’d like to haul you off to my lair and have my wicked way with you, it wouldn’t be quite cricket to take advantage of the lady when she’s in a weakened state.”

  “Not fair at all,” she said weakly, “but fun.”

  “We’ll have fun…later,” he said.

  “Later,” she echoed. Her eyes closed. She wouldn’t fall asleep on Hunter Cameron, of course she wouldn’t. She’d just rest for a bit…

  Milton drove into the underground garage and wheeled the limo into Hunter’s parking space. “You can go, Milton.” Hunter said softly.

  “How long are you going to stay here, Mr. Cameron?”

  “Just a few minutes longer. I want to make sure she’s sound asleep.” Hunter murmured. “Try not to slam the door.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He looked down at her, his heart breaking. When she was awake, her personality made her seem larger than life. Now, dozing in his arms, she looked like a bedraggled little girl.

  When he was certain she wouldn’t awaken, Hunter gathered her up and walked toward the elevator.

  Liz slept through the elevator ride and she slept through Hunter standing her on her feet for a moment so he could punch in his code. She slept through him carrying her into his condo to lay her gently on his bed.

  Hunter stood back and gazed at her, looking a
t the signs that told him about her time away. Her red hair had blond streaks from the sun. Her face and arms were only lightly tanned. She was slimmer than she’d been. Her belly was flat as a pancake, and her breasts seemed to stand away from her body more than they had before. He slipped her shoes off her feet and placed them next to the bed, then gathered up a shawl and covered her with it. He went out and closed the door, thinking he knew too little about her to want her so damn bad.

  Chapter 8

  Seven hours later, Liz opened the door and came out of his bedroom, looking adorably sleepy and disoriented. “Your alarm clock said one a.m. Is that right?”

  “I believe so.” He was out at the breakfast bar, sipping coffee, his laptop in front of him. Now he closed it and gave her his full attention. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Obviously I did. Why did you bring me here?”

  “It was the easiest thing to do…and the safest. I didn’t want to return you to your apartment and run the risk of having the paparazzi waiting to jump on you. The incident with the plane and the fact that you were on it made the video of you and Alex bounce back into the news.”

  “Oh, Hunter.” She’d pulled all the pins out of her hair and it flowed around her shoulders. “You must hate me.” Her eyes met his, and she saw in his eyes the sexual hunger that matched her own.

  “Hate isn’t exactly the emotion you arouse in me.” As if he’d admitted he wanted her as much as she wanted him, but didn’t want to face her, he slid off the bar stool and went around to the kitchen side to put distance between them. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “What I’d really like is a shower, but coffee is a close second.”

  “If you want a shower, go take one. Your suitcase is in my bedroom and if you don’t have anything clean, my sister Lynne leaves some clothes in the spare bedroom and she’s almost as tall as you. There should be something there you can borrow.”