HUNTER (The Caine Brothers Book 1) by Margaret Madigan Read Free Book Online Page A

barked a laugh. “No.”
    The waiter brought their appetizer and two plates. While they helped themselves Allison asked, “What do your brothers do now?”
    “You’re going to think the whole pack of them sound pretentious.”
    “Oh?”
    “I’m the oldest and going down in age we have a biker, a Navy SEAL, a rock star wannabe, an MMA wannabe, and a hermit.”
    “You’re right. That’s quite a group. A hermit and a couple wannabes?”
    “Bishop’s the hermit. Don’t even ask about him. The rest of us don’t. Jaxon’s got talent, but it’s not easy to break into the music industry. And Colton’s got skills in the cage, if he could get his temper under control. I think you met Xander and Damian at the wedding.”
    “They’re the biker and the SEAL?”
    “Yeah. And now I’m done talking about my family.”
    “Fair enough. Paper scissor rock for the last scallop?”
    He cocked his head as if she’d just spoken an alien language. “You mean rock paper scissors?”
    She gasped and clutched her chest is mock shock. “You’re one of those people?”
    When he realized she was kidding, his face relaxed into a smile. She liked the way it made his face look.
    “You know that the proper technical name of the game is rock paper scissors, right?” he asked.
    “I do not accept that as fact. You can’t prove it.”
    “Is that the lawyer talking?”
    She nodded and speared the last scallop. “They taught us that in lawyer school. You have to have evidence or it’s not a fact.”
    The waiter brought their dinner, and they spent the next hour eating, talking, laughing, and polishing off the bottle of wine. Allison couldn’t remember the last date she’d enjoyed so thoroughly, even without the pre-dinner orgasm.

By the time they finished dinner, Hunter experienced a condition he was unfamiliar with. He felt warm, sated, relaxed. He didn’t feel the need to check stocks or email or messages. He didn’t need to stretch the tightness from his neck. He didn’t have the urge to tell anyone what to do.
    If he didn’t know any better, he’d diagnose himself as happy. Or at the very least content.
    Maybe it was the half bottle of wine he’d drunk, or the delicious meal, or the tropical breeze.
    But when he looked across the table at Allison, he had to admit she had at least something to do with it.
    Her smile lit up her face, and her laugh infected him and before he knew it he was laughing, too.
    The waiter brought the check and he grabbed the pen, ready to charge it to their room. As he put pen to paper, Allison cleared her throat.
    “What?” he asked.
    “Don’t forget to sign it Mr. McDowell.”
    She smothered a snicker in her napkin.
    “What the hell’s with the name, anyway?”
    “I figured since you said you wanted to visit the resort incognito you’d want to use a fake name. I mean, your name’s fairly well known in the real estate business. This way you’re undercover.”
    “So you made me Mr. Allison McDowell?”
    “Yeah. I thought it was pretty funny.”
    “Hilarious.”
    He understood her reasoning, but didn’t much like the feeling of giving up his identity to someone else. He wondered how often women felt that way when they married.
    He signed his fake name with a flourish, leaving a sizable tip, then stood and offered Allison his hand. She took it and he tucked hers into the crook of his arm.
    “How about a walk on the beach?” he asked.
    She looked up at him with feigned surprise. “You’re dangerously close to being romantic, right now, Mr. McDowell.
    “Blame the wine,” he said, but after looking into her mesmerizing blue eyes he added, “and maybe the company, Mrs. McDowell. ”
    She leaned into him as they took the steps from the dining platform down to the path to the beach, and that warm feeling in his middle migrated to his chest.
    What was his problem, anyway? He had a reputation—professional, calculating, cutthroat, just like his father had taught him. He speculated, he