Hunter by Diana Palmer

heated skin had cooled. She couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m sorry about what…what I did. I…I can’t think what came over me…”
    He could feel her embarrassment. Odd, that, when she was twenty-seven and so beautiful. But she’d admitted herself that she’d been hurt, and it had been a long time for her. “Abstinence,” he replied. “I know how it feels. You get to the point where you can’t bear it any longer. I don’t think less of you for wanting me, Jennifer,” he added quietly. “I’m rather flattered,” he confessed.
    She relaxed a little. At least he wasn’t ridiculing her. He couldn’t know that her abstinence had been lifelong. And through it all, despite that shattering tenderness he’d shown her, he’d kept his head. He said she was beautiful, and he’d looked at her and kissed her. But he knew how badly she’d wanted him, so it might just have been pity. She didn’t want to think about that, it hurt too much. She stared at him with soft, quiet eyes.
    â€œHow long has it been for you?” she asked gently. “Is it all right, if I ask you that?”
    He drew in a slow breath, his broad chest lifting and falling, making his muscles ripple. “Two years,” he said.
    She searched his hard face. “Is it because I’m white that you won’t take the risk?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She had to know.
    He stared at her for a long moment. Better to end it here, and temptation with it. “Yes,” he said. “I want no possibility, ever, of a child coming from my desire for a woman with white skin.”
    Desire. Only desire, she thought miserably, and he’d just admitted it. She felt shamed, somehow. “Desire,” she whispered.
    He schooled his features not to give him away. He nodded his head, very slowly. “Isn’t that what you felt for me?” He turned away. “I’ll check the perimeter. Good night, Jennifer.”
    It would have hurt less if he’d hit her, but she didn’t say a word. She lay down and closed her eyes. So now she knew. He felt nothing for her, nothing at all, except a desire that was so mild it couldn’t even affect his control. And no way was he going to risk the possibility of creating a child. And she wanted nothing more, because she loved him. What a laugh!
    Jenny shivered with mingled shame and bitter disappointment. It might have been better if he’d never touched her at all. She wouldn’t be able to forget the expert touch of his hands, his mouth, the things he’d whispered to her. He was no novice, and now she was going to spend years remembering that. Tormenting herself with what might have been.
    Jenny got up and managed to get another blouse from her suitcase and put it on. Her breasts were still sensitive from the rough contact with his chest. For such a torrid interlude, it had been remarkably innocent, she thought. He’d looked at her, he’d kissed her. But there had been no deep intimacy at all. Because he didn’t want her enough, she supposed, and forced her eyes to close.
    Outside, Hunter was lighting a cigarette. Smoking might calm his nerves. He looked at the hand holding the cigarette and watched it shake. Jennifer unclothed was a sight to do that to a stronger man than himself. He wondered how he’d ever managed to let her go. His body was burning and throbbing with need of her. She wanted him. He could go back into that tent right now and she’d open her arms for him.
    But it would be a mistake. Despite her blatant desire for him, she was somehow less experienced than he’d expected. Shy and even a little afraid, but so hungry for him. He remembered her voice, whispering to him to teach her about deep kisses, the sight of her breasts in the light of the campfire…
    He groaned out loud. Another beauty. Another white woman. She wanted him because