Heart of the Hunter by Madeline Baker Read Free Book Online Page B

arms.
    Kelly’s heart was pounding so loudly she could scarcely hear
the music as he waltzed her around the kitchen floor. She marveled at the way
she fit into his arms. She had never been a particularly good dancer, yet she
followed Lee as if they had danced together for years. She was acutely
conscious of his long fingers folded over hers, of the pressure of his hand at
her back. He had washed before coming to dinner and she could smell the soap on
his skin. Her left hand rested lightly on his shoulder and the flesh beneath
her palm was warm and solid.
    His leg brushed against hers, sending tremors of excitement
through her whole body. His breath was warm against her cheek, his eyes were
dark intense, filled with unspoken dreams and secrets she was afraid to learn.
    He didn’t release her when the music ended. For a long
moment they stood there, suspended in time. Kelly stared into his eyes, unable
to look away. It was suddenly hard to breathe, impossible to think. She watched
his gaze travel to her lips, felt her breath catch in her throat as she waited
for him to kiss her. Shivers of anticipation skittered down her spine and her
knees went weak as heat spiraled through her.
    He took a deep breath, as if gathering his strength, and
then he let her go and took a step backward.
    “Thanks for dinner,” he said, not quite meeting her eyes.
    “You’re welcome.” She glanced around the kitchen, wishing
she could find a reason to make him stay. Her gaze settled on the pie she’d
made that afternoon. The way to a man’s heart, she thought and blurted,
“There’s apple pie for dessert.”
    “No.” He took another step away from her. “Maybe another
time,” he added, his voice thick.
    “Good night, then.”
    Her voice moved over him, low and soft, and he knew he had
to get out of there before it was too late.
    Muttering a hurried good night, he opened the kitchen door
and practically ran out of the room.

Chapter Eight
     
    Outside, Lee paused in the shadows and drew in several long
breaths. She probably thought he was crazy, running out of the house like that,
but he had to get away. Away from the innocent enticement of sweet pink lips
and the lure of summer-sky eyes. Away from the intoxicating female scent that
clung to her.
    He swore under his breath. She’d smelled of lilac soap and
minty toothpaste and freshly baked biscuits, of woman and home, of kids and
responsibility, and it scared the devil out of him.
    He stared at his hand. He could still feel the warmth of her
skin against his. His shoulder seemed to burn where her hand had rested. Hell,
he was burning all over.
    He sucked in another deep breath, blew it out in a long
sigh, then made his way to the corral behind the barn. The buckskin whickered
softly as he approached. Bending over, he plucked a dandelion from a patch of
scraggly grass and offered it to the horse. Then, one booted foot resting on
the bottom rail of the corral, he stared into the distance, idly scratching the
gelding between the ears.
    Gradually, the quiet of the night settled around him,
soothing him. He stared up at the stars and from deep within a shadowed
corridor of his mind he heard the echo of an ancient Lakota prayer.
    He heard the words whisper in his mind and then, feeling
awkward and a little foolish, he raised his arms overhead and spoke the words
aloud.
    “ Wakan Tanka , whose voice whispers in the wind and
the water, whose breath gives life to all the earth, hear my cry. I am small
and weak, in need of Your strength and courage and wisdom. If You walk with me,
all things are possible…”
    After a moment, he lowered his arms and then, very slowly,
he glanced over his shoulder.
    The house, bathed in moonlight, looked like something out of
a fairy tale. Light glowed behind the yellow-checked curtains, warm, inviting.
He saw Kelly staring at him through the kitchen window. Lamplight cast soft red
highlights in her hair.
    His breath caught in his throat as he looked at her.