Night Hunter by Vonna Harper Page A

world as if it belonged there.
    Acknowledging the heat in her cunt, her hardened areolas, she indicated his necklace. “What does it mean?”
    “My legacy.”
    Her mouth opened but nothing came out. She tried to meet his gaze, but was suddenly afraid of what she’d find in his eyes.
    “I belong here,” he said.
    No! “How can you say that?” she demanded, although she’d thought that herself when she’d seen him with the Seminoles. He hadn’t moved since he’d revealed himself, but that didn’t stop her from sensing him. Wanting him with a ferocity that rocked her. She could jump this man, ram him deep, deep inside her and ride him until they both passed out. “You’ve spent years building a life in Naples. I saw your business, your boats. You live in that houseboat, don’t you? You built it.”
    “Yes.”
    Her body began to hum. She felt more at peace than she had in a long, long time. Her pussy softened and swelled. She couldn’t stop the memories of what had happened the last time they were together.
    “I’m in awe of your skill,” she said, although she could no longer remember why she’d thought it was so important to ground him in reality. In truth, she was losing touch with reality herself. “You—you enjoy sitting out on your deck, don’t you?”
    “I speak Seminole.”
    “I, ah…”
    “The words are in me. They have always been.”
    He was magnificent! There was no other way to describe it. And if she didn’t mate with him, now, she’d spend the rest of her life regretting it.
    “They need me.”
    “So do I,” she blurted. “Laird—Thunder—the things you’ve done to me—” Not giving herself time to think about what she was doing, she ran her hands over her breasts, flattening them and then grabbing the nipples as best she could. Her lips felt numb. In contrast, she was aware of every cell of her body from belly to crotch. Her nerve endings felt hot and almost as if they’d been scraped with sandpaper. Thrown off balance by her sudden, deep response, she fought to remember the world she’d left behind, but it no longer existed.
    Only he did.
    Only completing what they’d begun earlier mattered.
    “Are you doing it again?” she managed. “You are, aren’t you?”

Chapter Nine
    Mala didn’t know what to expect. She tried to recall what had happened between them before and draw on that, but it was nearly impossible to think about anything except this moment. His body.
    It was as if he was challenging her to touch him. Did he think she lacked the courage?
    Maybe, she admitted. He was no longer a motorcycle-riding, houseboat-living, self-employed fishing guide. He’d become part of a beleaguered people from the past—a past that had embraced him and now touched her.
    Touch. Yes. That’s what this was about.
    “What is it like with the Seminoles?” she asked to distract herself and maybe him from the fact that she was walking toward him. Someone had interrupted them before. Was that person watching, ready to interrupt once more? If so, he’d have a hell of a fight on his hands from her. “Did they offer you a beautiful virgin?”
    “No.”
    “A pity. A lot of men would die happy if they had that.”
    “I am not a lot of men.” He turned his attention to her legs as if to let her know she hadn’t fooled him. He knew her intention. “I would not take a child.”
    “I’m glad to hear that.” She meant it. “But I’m not a virgin.”
    Something that might become a smile twitched the corner of his mouth. He was right. She’d proven beyond a doubt she had experience in that department. She thought about letting him know what had brought her here—her determination to do everything possible to return him to the world he’d grown up in—but she didn’t want to show her hand and risk him walking away from her. The thought of having to endure another day of intense sexual frustration nearly took off the top of her head. No way, no how!
    “You’ve gotten under