Hunter's Need

by Shiloh Walker

  Her words had no effect. He leaned into her, pinning her body between his and the dresser at her back. “What about words they do mean?”

  Ana froze in place. He dipped his head and nipped her chin. Words they do mean—This was too damn cruel.

  He continued to stare at her expectantly, but she didn’t know what he wanted to hear from her, what he wanted her to say, what he wanted her to do. He caught a stray lock of hair and brushed it back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “What’s wrong, Ana? Why do you look so scared?”

  “I’m not scared,” she said. And she didn’t lie. She wasn’t lying. She wasn’t scared—he didn’t mean it, so what was there to be scared of?

  “Then what’s wrong?” Duke asked, getting frustrated. He hadn’t meant just to blurt it out like that, but he wasn’t going to take it back or apologize. He didn’t see the point. She felt something, a whole hell of a lot of something, if he trusted what his gut said when she looked at him.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she said as she untangled herself from his arms. “It’s just been a crazy couple of weeks, and the past few days, they’ve just been insane. I’m tired. I’m ready to relax. I’m ready to get back to my life.”

  “Is that why you were crying earlier?”

  She went stiff and under that deep, insightful gaze, she felt the rush of blood rising to her cheeks. “Why do you think I was crying?”

  He reached out, trailed a finger over her eyes. “Maybe I’m psychic,” he teased. He slid his arms around her waist and drew her close. “Why were you crying?”

  She swallowed, searching desperately for something that would explain the tears, something that wasn’t truth, but wasn’t lie, either. If she lied, he’d know. “Maybe things are just catching up to me,” she hedged.

  But he didn’t buy it. “That’s why you were lying in here, crying and not answering the phone all day? I kept trying to call.”

  “You did?” Startled, she looked at him.

  He frowned down at her. “Of course I did.” His eyes narrowed on her face.

  “I . . . I thought you were—” Shut up. Deal with it when it happens.

  “Thought I was what?” he demanded.

  Twisting out of his arms, she said, “Nothing. Don’t worry about it, Duke.”

  “No, I think I will worry about it. You thought I was what?”

  Gone. She squirmed in his arms and pressed against his chest. “Damn it, Duke. What does it matter?”

  But he wasn’t going to let it go, no more than he was going to let her go. He kept her locked against his body, and considering how he had his hips wedged against hers, she could tell that her wiggling around wasn’t leaving him unaffected. Her belly clenched at the warmth of his cock as it cuddled against her belly and she tried not to shudder in reaction.

  “It matters,” he murmured. His voice went low and rough as he added, “I think it matters a lot.”

  Ana swallowed the knot in her throat. Lowering her gaze, she stared at his chest. “I thought you were gone, okay?”

  “Gone.” He threaded a hand in her hair and tugged, angling her head back so that their gazes met. “You mean—gone. Like leaving-on-a-jet-plane kind of gone, don’t you?”

  She lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

  “Answer me.”

  “Yeah.” She blew out a breath and said, “Gone as in gone. You happy now?”

  “You actually think I could leave without so much as saying good-bye? Wait—don’t answer that.” He let go of her and took a step back. “Get dressed.”

  Ana blinked, a little thrown by the abrupt change. One second she was pressed up against his warm body, even as he stared at her in disbelief. Then she was cold and alone. “Get dressed?”

  “Yeah.” He flicked a glance at her that encompassed her from the bottom of her bare feet up to her neck. “Unless of course you feel like going outside naked. Then we’ll have problems because if a guy so much as looks at you, I’m gutting him.”

  “Duke, what—?”

  “Get dressed.”

  SHE really thought he could just leave, Duke thought, alone in the living room.

  Shaken, he rubbed his hands over his face and tried to figure out what in the hell was going on inside her head. She’d spent the day crying . . . because she thought he wasn’t coming back?

  Or was he just assuming too much?

  No. His gut insisted that’s what it was. She’d been crying, because she thought he was gone. So what did that mean? He thought he knew. He wanted to think he was right. But he wasn’t going to do that just yet.

  She came out of the bedroom, her shoulders slumped, her hair brushed back from her face and secured in a tail at the nape of her neck. He wanted to tug the band that held her hair confined and tug it free so that pretty, pale hair fell loose around her shoulders. Instead, he slid his feet into his shoes and kept his distance.

  He didn’t keep quiet, though. Too many questions, he needed answers and he sucked at being patient.

  “Would it really bother you so much if I just left?”

  She flicked a sidelong glance in his direction. Instead of giving him a straight answer, she shrugged. “You’ve got a life to live, Duke. Same as me. I can’t begrudge you for getting back to it.”

  “But would it bother you?”

  “There’s really no reason for it to bother me,” she said.

  His nostrils flared as he caught a trace scent. She was lying. Lying—or at least not telling the complete truth. Ana knew better than to outright lie to somebody like him. He would know it before the words even left her mouth.

  But something about these words, circumspect as they were, didn’t ring entirely true.

  “You don’t want me to leave, do you?”

  Duke stared at her bowed head as she slid her feet into a pair of flat, black shoes and grabbed her keys from the bar. All without looking at him. But he didn’t need her to look at him.

  Body language doesn’t lie. Scent doesn’t lie.

  Dominic had said that to him more than a year ago—it seemed like a whole other lifetime.

  No. The body didn’t lie. Scent didn’t lie. Neither did the heart.

  And neither did those eyes that hid everything and nothing at all.

  ANA tapped her foot restlessly against the floorboard, squirming on the unfamiliar leather seat. It was a Jeep, a dark, deep shade of red and nice—seriously nice. “Was there something wrong with the other rental?” she asked as he turned onto the Glenn Highway, heading north out of town.

  “Nothing was wrong with it—and this isn’t a rental.”

  Frowning, Ana sat up straight, studying the Jeep’s dashboard. “Not a rental—you meant you bought this?”

  “Yep.”

  She slicked her tongue over her lips and settled back against the leather. “Why?”

  “Because I wanted it.”

  “I guess that’s one way to get out of flying back to Virginia.” She crossed her arms over her chest, staring out the window. Tall fences bordered the highway, interrupted every so often with an open area—for the moose to cross the highway. “You’ve got one hell of a long drive ahead of you, though.”

  He made a noncommittal grunt and drove on in silence. Ana rested her head against the padded headrest and just stared outside. Minutes ticked away as they drove across Eagle River. Outside her window, she could see the mountains and she focused on them. It was a lot easier to look at them now than it had been the last few times she came through here.

  “Are we going to Palmer?”

  “Nope.”

  Ana rolled her eyes and glanced at the clock on the dashboard. A few minutes ticked by.

  “Where are we going?” she demanded after four more miles sped by in silence.

  He glanced in the rearview mirror and turned his signal on, cutting across traffic and taking the exit to Chugiak. “Damn it, Duke, where are we going?”

  “You’re swearing again, princess,” he said, his tone affable. He shot her a
look from the corner of his eye. “If you could just be patient for another ten minutes, you’d see where we were going.”

  The smirk on his face had her seething. Clamping her mouth shut, she closed her eyes. Wherever they were going, she just wanted it over, so she could get back to her apartment, back in her bed, pull the covers over her head while she tried to figure out how to handle Duke.

  He hadn’t left.

  She couldn’t figure out why.

  Was he just not bored with her yet? No matter what she might tell herself while she was wrapped in his arms, lying under that long, lean body . . . her mouth started watering and she had to jerk her mind back to the matter at hand. When they weren’t touching, her brain functioned halfway normally, and when her brain was functioning the way it should, Ana knew this wasn’t the best thing for her.

  She loved him—she’d always loved him, it seemed. When he left, she was still going to love him. No, she didn’t regret sleeping with him, didn’t regret that he’d been the one to show up in Alaska. In a way, some things were a little easier now. She knew he didn’t hate her.

  That was good, right?

  Except . . . except when he hated her, it was easy to accept facts. There was no happy-ever-after lined up with Duke. At least not one that included her. And when she believed he hated her, she hadn’t found herself daydreaming about it. Or at least not too much. Now . . . Ana blew out a breath and shifted in her seat, leaning her head against the window and staring outside.

  Scenery sped by in a blur, but even if they’d been crawling along at a snail’s pace, she wouldn’t have seen anything.

  Now she found herself thinking about a future, yearning for something with Duke. Something that would last.

  Impossible things.

  The car came to a stop, but it wasn’t until Duke reached over and brushed his fingers across her cheek that she realized it. Frowning, she straightened in the seat and glanced at him.

  “What do you think?”

  Ana frowned. “About what?”

  He glanced out the front window. Automatically, she followed his gaze and found herself staring blankly at a house. A big, beautiful house made up of gleaming, golden planks of wood and lots of glass windows that glittered under the brilliant August sunshine.

  “What do I think about the house?” she asked, feeling a little bit stupid. “Why are you asking me what I think about the house?”

  Instead of responding, he climbed out of the car and came around to her side, opening the door. When she didn’t climb out, he rolled his eyes and reached in, unbuckled her seat belt and caught her hand. “Come on. Let’s go look around.”

  “Duke, this is private property.” She dragged her feet as he tugged her along.

  “Yeah.” He glanced at her over his shoulder and grinned. “But if they want to sell it, they probably expect people to come around and look at it. Or at least one would think.”

  “Sell it . . . ” Dazed, she tugged her hand free and edged in front of him. Her eyes landed on the Realtor sign in the front yard. Although calling that rolling expanse of grass a yard was rather like calling a diamond a rock. Technically correct, but the term just didn’t do it justice. She stared at the For Sale sign and felt her heart skip a beat or ten.

  Her mouth was dry.

  Blood roared in her ears.

  “Duke, why are we here?”

  He didn’t answer her, and she turned around to stare at him.

  “What’s going on?” Her voice was shaking, but there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. Just being able to speak right now seemed like a huge accomplishment. It wasn’t terribly easy to speak when something had squeezed all the oxygen out of her lungs. Wasn’t terribly easy to speak when her heart was suddenly pounding a mile a minute and giddy laughter warred with pessimistic doubt.

  Duke stared at her, his hands shoved deep inside his pockets, his legs spread wide. His golden blond hair fell into his eyes, trying to obscure his pale gray eyes. Eyes that watched her, stared at her as though trying to see clear through to her soul, clear inside her heart. Reflexively, she slammed extra shields up—thick, solid shields that muffled everything.

  “Why were you crying?”

  “Why are we here?” Ana ignored his question in favor of her own. Glaring at him, she closed her hands into tight fists, her nails biting into her palms.

  He sauntered forward, a smile curling his lips. “You want to know why we are here?” he asked, his voice soft—almost gentle.

  With that intense gaze, he watched her. With that intense gaze that sent shivers down her spine and had her belly clenching with need. Her heart hammered away inside her chest even as her head started to scream a warning at her.

  She could feel his thoughts, pressing against her shields, almost like he was trying to tell her something. Ana, safe behind her shields, did her damnedest to ignore the thoughts he was sending in her direction.

  “If I didn’t want to know why I was here, I wouldn’t have asked,” she snapped, shooting for flippancy, hoping it would hide the nerves. Futile hope, she knew it, but she had to try, right?

  “I’ll tell you why we’re here.” He drew even with her, his booted feet nudging the toes of her black ballet flats. A warm, calloused hand cupped her chin and he gently angled her face up. “As soon as you answer my question. Why were you crying, Ana?”

  Why am I shaking? She stared up at him, trembling, half terrified and half . . . half she didn’t know what. Was it hope? She didn’t want to think about that, because if she did, she’d have to wonder what in the hell she was so hopeful about.

  “Ana.” He dipped his head and rubbed his cheek against hers.

  That familiar gesture had a knot swelling in her throat and tears stung her eyes, threatened to fall.

  “Tell me why you were crying.”

  Swallowing a cry, she tore away from him and moved away, quick, quick as she could, even though she knew he could stop her in two seconds. She needed distance, had to have it before she threw herself against him and made an idiot out of herself. The words, the answer to his question, danced on her tongue but she didn’t want to answer him.

  “Why were you crying?”

  She hunched her shoulders when he came up behind her and touched her. Tried to edge away from his hands even as she tried not to lean against him.

  “Ana . . . ”

  Something snapped inside her. Spinning around, she pushed up on her toes, nose to nose with him. “Damn it, I was crying because I thought you’d left! I thought you’d left, that you were gone and not coming back and . . . and I . . . and . . . ”

  Turning away, she covered her mouth, tried to muffle the sob before it tore free. Duke wrapped his arms around her waist, drew her back against him. She struggled against him, tried to get him to let go even though it was like trying to put out a house fire with one lone bucket of water—pointless. Still, she fought against him, kicking him in the shins, driving an elbow back into his gut. He grunted and even though pain shot up her arm, she felt a little bit better.

  That was until he spun her around and lifted her in his arms, slanting his mouth across hers. “Damn it, you son of a bitch, let me go,” she snarled as she tore her mouth away.

  “Shit, princess, you must be really pissed.” He was laughing.

  He went to kiss her again and she jerked her head away, arching back as far as his arms would let her. Which wasn’t far. Then he cupped the back of her head in his hand, drawing her close again. “Let. Me. Go.” She gritted each word out, the last one muffled against his lips as he kissed her again.

  “Awwww, Ana. I can’t do that. Took me five years to finally get you, and you think I can walk away as easy as that?”

  His tone might have been lighthearted, but there was something . . . something under the words. Something that echoed in his eyes and in the smile that curled his lips as he stared down at her, stroking her hair back from her face. He laid a hand on her cheek and pressed his lips to her brow. “
Don’t ask me to do that, Ana. God, please, don’t ask that.”

  “Why not?” She squeezed her eyes shut and made herself concentrate on breathing. She kept forgetting to do it, and she felt a little light-headed from the lack of oxygen.

  “Because I can’t.” He lifted his head, gazing down at her.

  She could feel the weight of his stare, and once more, she could feel the intensity of his thoughts beating against her shields. If she lowered them, just a little, she’d hear whatever it was he was thinking. She suspected she’d hear it loud and clear, too, with none of the jumbled chaos that too often came when she picked up on the thoughts of others.

  Even though she knew he wanted her to look at him, she didn’t do it. If she did, it would strengthen that connection between them and she didn’t know if she could avoid hearing his thoughts.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me why?” Duke asked, staring down at her bent head. He reached up and tugged the band out of her hair, combing through the silken, pale strands with his fingers. Then he tangled his fingers in it and tugged until she finally lifted her head.

  “Enough, Duke.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then looked at him again. “Enough. Just tell me what is going on. Why are we here?”

  “Because I want to know what you think of the house,” Duke said, tracing the line of her mouth with his index finger. “I think I want to buy it. But I can’t do that unless I know you like it.”

  Her breath hitched in her throat. “Why do you want to buy it?”

  “Because your place is too damn small, and I can’t stand living in a city.”

  “Living . . . ” She paused and licked her lips. Sharp little teeth caught the lower one, biting down nervously. “Living in a city. You mean Anchorage?”

  “Where else would I be talking about?”

  “You’re talking about living here.” She gulped and a series of emotions flashed through her eyes. Panic. Hope. Doubt. Need.

  Need . . . that was the look he focused on. Cradling her face in his hands, he dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers. “Yeah, I’m talking about living here. You’re here, Ana. So this is where I want to be.”