Autumn Lover by Elizabeth Lowell

Hunter’s weapon was clean but not shiny. So was the stock. There was no silver, no gold, no fancy patterns carved in wood or etched in steel.
    Without a word Hunter watched the raiders until they were no longer in sight. Then he pulled a bullet from the firing chamber, uncocked the rifle, and turned toward Elyssa.
    The look on Hunter’s face wasn’t warm. He would be a long time forgetting how it felt when he realized thatElyssa was dead center in the middle of whatever fight might break out.
    She could be lying in the dirt right now , Hunter thought grimly, her blood all red around her and her face pale as salt .
    The thought of Elyssa lying motionless on the ground disturbed Hunter in ways he could neither name nor understand. Death was no stranger to him, nor had he been worried about his own safety, yet fingers of fear were combing over his nerves.
    For Elyssa.
    The silence between them grew, unbroken but for the sound of the lazy breeze, Leopard’s easy breathing, and the sporadic barking of dogs.
    Then Elyssa sighed, pushed away from Leopard, and looked warily at Hunter.
    Bleak gunmetal eyes looked back at her.
    “You little fool,” Hunter said through his teeth. “Why didn’t you run to the barn? You had time. Or did you like standing there taunting Gaylord while he stripped you naked with his eyes?”
    The aftermath of fear and a rush of fury proved too much for Elyssa’s self-control. If she had a gun, she would have shot Hunter.
    He knew it. He grabbed her wrist before she could decide to smack him silly instead of shooting him.
    “All right. You didn’t like it,” Hunter said curtly. “Why didn’t you run?”
    “My legs were shaking too hard, that’s why.”
    Surprise softened the lines of Hunter’s face. For the first time he noticed how pale Elyssa was. A fine trembling was running through her. Had he not been standing close, holding her wrist, he wouldn’t have noticed.
    “You sure didn’t look scared from where I was,” he said.
    “Only a fool shows fear to a predator, and despite your opinion, I’m not a fool.”
    Hunter barely heard the words. He was much too aware of the soft skin on the inside of Elyssa’s wrist, of the intense blue-green of her eyes, and of the faint trembling of her lips.
    “Next time you see a Culpepper,” he said huskily, “run like hell in the opposite direction.”
    Elyssa nodded jerkily.
    The quick movement of her head traveled down the length of her hair in a shimmering wave of light. Pale golden strands slid over her cheeks. A wisp caught on her trembling lower lip.
    Hunter made a sound so deep it was barely audible. Rifle in one hand, tenderness in the other, Hunter stroked the hair away from Elyssa’s face without thinking about what the action would reveal to her.
    The softness of her hair sent tongues of fire licking over Hunter’s skin. The quick leap of her breathing and the slow lowering of her eyelids told Hunter that she felt the sensual wildfire of their attraction as deeply as he did.
    Hunter’s breath came out in a whispering rush that was Elyssa’s name. Very gently he smoothed the wisp of hair away from her lips, caught her face between rifle on one side and his palm on the other, and slowly lowered his head.
    The slamming of the bunkhouse door cut the hushed tension between them like the crack of a rifle.
    Hunter jerked as though he had been shot.
    He yanked back his hands and spun away from Elyssa. Without a bit of hesitation he grabbed the top rail of the paddock fence and vaulted over with an easy, feline movement.
    Mickey strode away from the bunkhouse toward the barn. There was no rifle in his hands. If he had noticedthe raiders, he hadn’t taken any precautions against their return.
    Unless , Hunter thought sardonically, Mickey was lying low in the bunkhouse because he was worried about his own dainty little hide .
    “Morning,” Hunter said. “Little late getting to work, aren’t you?”
    “I cut my hand. Had to wrap it