SeducingtheHuntress (7 page)

Her fingers moved back and forth through the soapy water as
she became lost in thought. The last thing she remembered was hiding out in a
pine tree, going half-mad from the cold but utterly unable to move.

Reuben must have found her and brought her back. It was the
only thing that made any kind of sense. Breath shuddered from her lungs. He’d
survived his stab wound and come after her. How else would she have woken in
his cabin?

But where was he now?

It was dark outside, though a faint tinge of dawn touched
the far reaches of sky. Had she slept the whole night away?

She’d obviously been dreaming about her past just before
she’d woken. But everything after crouching on the pine tree and being freezing
cold…was blank.

Her belly gurgled, hunger pains sharp in her midriff. It
hadn’t been that long since she’d eaten, had it? She’d devoured all of Reuben’s
stew before she’d run away…before she’d sunk a knife into his chest.

She jerked upright and water sloshed, her breath sawing in
and out of her lungs. Oh god, was he even now planning his retribution? Had he
planned to get her relaxed and warm in the bath before bursting through the
door in his
nightmix
form to slay her?

She swiped a hand over her face, no longer warm but chilled
to the bone knowing that she really didn’t blame him if that was his intention.
She deserved nothing less.

From the very start he’d done nothing but look after her.
He’d stitched and dressed her wound. He’d fed her and kept her warm. Her heart
picked up speed. He’d made her a woman.

And knifing him had been her thanks?

“I’m so sorry, Reuben,” she whispered.

But nothing answered her except the cold soughing of the
wind outside, the chirping of a frog that was undoubtedly soaking up the last
of the rain that’d saturated the ground.

The bath suddenly having no more appeal, she climbed out and
bent for a towel that was folded beside the tub on the floor. She wrapped
herself in the slightly scratchy material, standing before the flames in
contemplation.

How was she going to explain her actions to Reuben? She
sighed. She couldn’t. Not really. There was no excuse for what she’d done to
him.

The hiss and pop of the fire seemed somehow to exacerbate
the isolation of the cabin. She closed her eyes. How the hell had Reuben even
survived such a wound, let alone found the strength to rescue her?

Rescue? Don’t you mean kidnap?

She pressed the palm of her hand to her brow. She didn’t
know much about anything anymore, but the one thing she did comprehend was that
Reuben was no killer. Her teeth bit into her lower lip. No, it was
she
who had tried to kill someone innocent. She was as much a murderer as the
nightmix
that’d killed her brother.

She swung away from the fire, the flames making her feel as
if she was someone damned. If Reuben still felt any compassion toward her, she
didn’t deserve it. Not one bit.

A sob wedged in her throat even as a mirror on the opposite
wall caught her stare.

It was akin to looking at a stranger for the very first
time.

She’d always been fine-boned, but now she verged on gaunt.
She’d clearly lost a lot of blood, or she’d been indoors for too long, because
her normally sun-kissed skin was alabaster white. Her short blonde hair clumped
out in the worst kind of bed hair and the eyes that peered back at her were
red-rimmed and smudged underneath with dark shadows.

She touched her hair. Until recently, she’d always worn it
long. Not that it mattered. The bedtime ritual of her mother brushing her hair
in long, gentle strokes while they talked about their day had long ago become a
faded memory.

She pressed outspread hands to her face, fighting back tears
and losing. Revenge had built impenetrable walls around her emotions, but now
that those walls were crumbling, her emotions were left open and exposed. And
she wasn’t equipped to deal with them, had never really dealt with them.

A booted heel clunked on the cabin’s tiny landing before the
front door swung open. Her mouth dried. Her legs quavered. Breathless
anticipation for a moment counteracted all else before she scrubbed away her
tears and turned around.

God, he looked worse than she did! His face was drawn, his
body, in nothing more than ragged pants and a shirt, even more lean and hard.
But then, what did she expect him to look like after he’d lived through a
near-fatal stab wound?

His stare locked with hers, a half-smile ghosting his lips
and relief softening the hard angles and planes of his face. “You’re awake.”
His head cocked to one side, his eyes appraising. “Are you feeling okay?”

What about you?
How are you doing after my
attempted murder? Do you hate me with a vengeance now?

She lifted her chin. She only hoped he hadn’t seen her
tears, she hated that he might have seen her so vulnerable, so exposed. “Aside
from being held against my will?”

He shut the door behind him before removing his footwear.
“Yes, well there’s that,” he agreed carefully. “But I said I’d release you.
When you’re strong enough, I’ll take you home.”

Her chest ached. Of course he would. And who could blame him?

“I expect you don’t want me knifing you in the back,” she
muttered, feeling selfishly spiteful at his apparent forgiveness, but lovelorn
and confused all at the same time.

“And I expect you’re past wanting to do that now,” he
countered, dropping a trio of strung-together rabbits on his kitchen counter.

She looked away from the gray-furred, gentle animals. “What
makes you say that?”

“You were feverish and ill and at one point you were talking
and mumbling in your sleep.”

“What did I say?” she asked, though something inside her
really didn’t want to know.

“You said my name,” he said huskily, stalking toward her.
“Again and again.”

“I…did?” she breathed. Yet somehow she knew it was true. Her
subconscious wasn’t in any denial about her feelings, despite the fact she hid
behind her desire for revenge.

“Yes,” he murmured, stopping before her. “I would have found
it most…interesting if not for the fact I was so busy trying to keep you alive
on a broth of whatever herbs and dried vegetables I had left in the pantry.”

She’d tried to kill him and yet he’d returned the favor by
doing everything in his power to keep her alive. There was no way she’d ever be
able to repay his devotion…or whatever the hell it was that made him want her
to live.

She cleared her throat. “How long was I asleep?”

“Three days.”

“Holy shit,” she whispered. No wonder she’d been so thirsty
and weak, not to mention hungry when she’d woken. No wonder she’d looked so
damn gaunt in the mirror! Her eyes assessed him, a hot flush creeping over her
face and into far more private places. He’d lost weight too—was all hard sinew
and muscle. And damn if he didn’t look just as edible. “You lived on broth
too?”

He shrugged. “I saved that for you.”

Then what
had
he been eating? She knew a shape
shifter needed extra rations after every shift, and she could bet he hadn’t
followed her in his human form after she’d stabbed him and fled.

“Please don’t do that anymore.” At his frown she added,
“Don’t keep me alive at the expense of your own health.”

He arched a brow. “When did that happen?”

She bit into her lower lip. “What do you mean?”

His voice turned husky. “When did you suddenly become all
concerned for my well-being?”

“I…” She lifted a hand then let it drop back to her side. “I
guess when I understood you’d never hurt me and that you’re nothing like other
nightmixes
.”

He exhaled slowly. “So now you’d prefer death if it means
I’m not in the prime of my health?”

“Of course not.” She looked away and muttered, “But I don’t
deserve your kindness.”

He reached out and tucked a hand beneath her chin, drawing
her gaze back to his. “Actually you deserve far more than that. If only it was
possible.”

It was her turn to frown. “What do you mean?”

He looked so serious for a couple of seconds, then he
smiled, breaking the tension between them. “Never mind.” His hand dropped.
“Let’s save this talk for another time, hmm?”

He pulled off his shirt, baring hard, lean abs that were
dusted in a faint trail of dark hair, which disappeared beneath his pants. His
knife wound was all too visible and already mostly healed, a puckered scar that
was a good couple of inches away from his heart.

She wasn’t surprised he’d survived. She could only thank
whatever deity had been looking out for him that her usually perfect aim had
been so off. Revenge might have fed her all those years, but she could no
longer deny that lust was her hunger now. No, more than lust…her feelings for
him ran deeper than what she wanted to admit right then.

She swallowed hard, all but swaying toward him. “What are
you doing?”

His eyes glinted. “I’m taking a bath before the water is
cold. Care to share it with me?”

Her pulse thudded, heat rushing straight to her cunt.
“There’s barely enough room for even one of us,” she squeaked.

He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his pants, his
expression primal and fierce even as he drew his pants down with excruciating
slowness, exposing the thickening length of his cock and the heavy balls
beneath. “I’m up for the challenge. Are you?” he asked huskily.

She licked her lips. All sanity had fled the moment he’d
undressed. Goddess above, she wanted him with an obsession that she knew deep
down would never wane. That this would undoubtedly be their last time together
only exacerbated the need.

She unclenched her hands. The towel dropped. “Ready and
willing.”

His feral grin sent even more lust spearing through her body
and she all too eagerly took his outstretched hand before he led her to the
still-warm tub.

He climbed in first, his buttocks hard and smooth, his spine
flexing and shifting. He looked up, the rough stubble on his cheeks making him
even darker and more deliciously wicked.

He was totally off limits. And she’d never wanted anything
more.

His voice rumbled with carnal heat. “Come join me.”

She didn’t need to be asked twice. For once her petite size
and grace put her in good stead. She placed her feet on either side of his
torso and lowered herself down, every inch of her aroused by his hot stare, his
primal need.

He leaned forward on a growl, stopping her midway so that he
could suck the tip of one of her breasts into his mouth. Warmth coated her
nipple, the bristles on his face scratching the soft tissue of her breast. Then
his tongue flicked and licked, jolting nerves into exquisite life.

She exhaled noisily, barely holding still as he suckled and
teased before releasing her breast with a little pop and mouthing its twin. Her
lips parted on a sigh and she arched closer, pressing into him as the sparks
he’d started at her breasts spread through her body as if wildfire.

He pulled on her flesh and tongued her nipple. Her pussy
flooded with moisture and her eyes fluttered closed while she drew on what
little strength she had. Heaven help her, if he didn’t stop soon she’d be
begging him to fuck her!

He released her abruptly and looked up. His knowing
expression became all too serious all too soon. When he opened his mouth she
cupped his cheeks and covered his lips with her own.

She didn’t want him to remind her that they’d be parting
ways in the not-so-distant future. She knew the score. Not that she didn’t
care. Hell, she cared way more than she wanted to admit. But that didn’t mean
she wasn’t going to make the most of what time they had together and relish the
moment.

“Don’t speak,” she whispered when she drew back, savoring
the taste of his wildness on her lips, the faint, musky scent of cat. “Let’s
just…play.”

His eyes darkened. Her hands moved, splaying over his
shoulders for balance before she slowly descended. Her pussy touched the silky,
soft water and then the rigid head of his cock.

He shook his head before he leaned forward and whispered
softly and deliberately, “Not yet, Isabella.”

She knew right away he was letting her know he wouldn’t be
tamed or trained, at least, not that easily. She couldn’t help but grin
approval. He was a big cat alpha male. What had she expected—obedient silence?

One of his hands clasped the girth of his shaft before he
began to circle the head of his cock around her vulva. She sighed at the
intimate flesh massaging flesh and yet wanted to scream with frustration the he
was deliberately avoiding her tight, aching clit. Her breath hissed. “No. More.
Teasing.”

She lifted her hips a little then rocked against his cock,
scraping and grinding her clit against him, again and again until she was
moaning and Reuben was scarcely holding it together.

Even the telltale red glint in his eyes turned her on in
ways she didn’t want to think about. She was making him lose control in every
way that counted. And she’d make damn sure he wouldn’t forget their time
together in any hurry.

His nearer hand parted her labia before one finger slid in
deep. Her inner muscles clenched around him and she gasped a little before her
channel loosened and he pushed gently in and out, his strokes then becoming
faster, fiercer. Heat intensified at the friction, at the wildness within
seeking release. Then he thumbed her clit and pushed her right to the edge.

“Not yet. I…I want you inside me when I come,” she said
huskily.

Reaching down, she clasped his rock-hard shaft and slowly
sank onto him. Her cunt welcomed every inch of him and she gripped his
shoulders once again as she rocked up and down. Triumph surged as the red of
his eyes flared, even more pronounced. She perceived his losing control to his
nightmix
wasn’t normal. And she basked in it now she knew he was not a killer.

Reuben clasped her waist, urging her on, faster and faster.
The water sloshed, splashing the floorboards and droplets hitting the fire and
fizzling loudly.

She leaned forward, clasping his nape and hanging on as a
climax tossed her high. She called out his name, her inner muscles clenching
hard before he erupted inside her. His groan morphed into a big-cat growl
before his mouth captured hers, their breaths merging and their pulses thudding
in unison as they slowly came back to earth.

She wilted against him, the bath water cooling and their
skin flushed and smelling of sex and sweat.

They stayed that way for long minutes, until Isabella’s
muscles began cramping from the awkward position and she had no choice but to
leave the haven of his arms, however reluctantly.

She wrapped the towel around her once more while Reuben
reclined back in the tub, his stare lazily possessive as he watched her every
move. She lifted a hand, then dropped it back to her side. “I wasn’t expecting
to do…that, after what I did to you.”

“If you had really wanted to kill me, I wouldn’t be here
right now.” He shrugged, as if talking about nothing more mundane than the
weather. “Besides, I guess I was asking for it, giving you a knife and all.”

She chewed her bottom lip. She’d been let off all too
easily. “Reverse psychology?”

“Something like that.” And then, patently lightening the
mood, he added, “I expect you’re starving.” He got out of the bath, dripping
wet and completely unashamed as he stood in front of the fire and jerked his
head in the direction of the rabbits. “I wasn’t able to leave you here alone to
hunt for meat, at least not while you were at your worst. I thought you might
appreciate some rabbit stew.”

She dropped her eyes from his and tugged the towel harder
around her. “You’re not the killer I expected you to be,” she muttered.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said with a smile in
his voice.

She wanted to more than compliment him. She wanted to tell
him her real feelings, let him know that killing him was the farthest thing on
her mind. Heaven help her, she wanted to shout out her love for him!

His voice softened. “Especially now I realize your aversion
to killing.”

“How do you know—?”

“The deer I brought inside,” he reminded gently. “You were
appalled.”

She nodded. “Although being hungry usually overcomes my
weakness.”

“You only ever wanted to hunt and kill a
nightmix
?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “But…things have changed now.”

He stepped toward her. “You’re strong, brave and loyal. And
I hope you never try to change the real you inside.” His eyes glowed with
admiration. “Isabella, I—”

If whatever he’d been about to say had been momentous, she’d
never know. They stared at one another, eyes wide and a little disbelieving at
the sound of hoofbeats that drummed louder and louder. Bits jingled and leather
creaked as the horses were pulled up sharply just outside.