Morgan's Hunter (26 page)

“Damn it, that hurts!”

“I’m sorry.” He blew on the wound as he cleaned. “I know it stings. I’m almost finished.”

He put the Q-tip down, blew on the cut again. With brows furrowed, he scrutinized the wound, turning Morgan’s palm from side to side. When he was satisfied the gouge was as clean as he could make it, he rubbed antibiotic cream on a large piece of gauze, placed the sheet of cotton on the gash, wrapped the heel of her hand before securing it with medical tape. “You’ll have to keep your hand dry today.” He let her go. “I’ll change the dressing again when we stop for lunch. I think we can control the infection if we stay on top of it.”

Both began to repack the first aid kit. Their hands brushed and Morgan stopped dead before she replaced items with hurried movements. “I can do this, Hunter. Thanks for your help. Why don’t you make sure you’re ready and we’ll go.”

Hunter’s eyebrows knitted as he stared at the top of her head. What was her deal? She’d hardly looked at him since he’d gotten up. “It sounds like you’re dismissing me, Morgan, like I’m your servant. We’ve already established I don’t take orders from you.”

“Fine,” she said on an exasperated huff, shoving the case toward him. “You put the damn stuff away. You can carry the bag in your pack.”

Morgan got to her feet, grabbed the ratty towel, crammed it in her pack before she shouldered it and turned to leave.

Hunter stood, snagged her arm as she walked by. “What’s your problem this morning?”

“I don’t have a problem. I just want to get out of here.”

“I didn’t think the bitter morning-after bitch routine was your style, Morgan.”

She stopped in her tracks, whirled, slapped him—hard. He grabbed her wrist, ran his tongue around the inside of his stinging cheek.

Her green eyes glowed. “How
dare
you, you son of a bitch. You’ve got a hell of a nerve critiquing my after-sex style. I foolishly expected a small amount of affection from my partner afterward. But why mess up a good, cheap fuck with conversation and emotion when you can roll off of someone and go to sleep.”

His hand tightened on her wrist. “I didn’t fuck you, and there was nothing cheap about last night.”

Morgan yanked her arm free of his hold, started into the trees. “Really? You could’ve fooled me. That’s the interesting thing about sex, Hunter. There are so many different ways to interpret it.”

He threw on his pack, doused the flame with his water bottle, hurried after her. “Morgan, wait a minute.”

She kept walking, picking her way down the rocky terrain. “Just stay away from me. When we get to the station, I’ll call my father and you can be on your merry way.” Her voice wavered as she dashed her hand over her cheek, never looking back.

He would’ve stopped her, but what was the point? She was right. He kept hurting her, didn’t know how to stop.

He never stuck around for the after-sex snuggle, at least not over the past couple of years. The women he slept with knew that. There was always easy affection and fun, with no strings attached.

When Morgan lay against him afterward, he’d felt strings like a noose around the neck. The whole experience had been different with her. She’d been so responsive, so giving. When she’d cried out for him, lost in her own passion, it had made him want to give her more. When he’d moved inside her, staring into her big, green eyes, she’d looked at him as if he were all that mattered. It made him not only want her but
need
her. He didn’t want to need her; he didn’t want to need anyone.

And yet, he did. He’d never met anyone quite like Morgan. She intrigued as often as she irritated. She was not only beautiful, but funny, intelligent, and a hell of a lot more than the rich-bitch he’d accused her of being. Her bold, independent streak kept him on his toes, and hell if he didn’t like it. He wanted to hold her close more than strangle her these days, and that just couldn’t be.

It was probably best she thought what she did, even though the night before meant more to him than he wanted to admit. It was time to move on. He’d get her home and they’d go their separate ways.

He blew out a long breath, worried when the thought didn’t make him as happy as it once did.

They walked for hours at a good clip through dense forest and wide-open valleys. The snow-capped Rockies that left Morgan awe-struck days before, lost most of their appeal as her focus shifted from nature’s pristine beauty to getting the hell out of Yellowstone and away from Hunter. As they walked, Morgan kept her distance, talking only when necessary.

His nasty words continued to echo in her mind. Fuming, she put more effort into each step. He had one hell of a nerve. What a
jerk
. What had she been
thinking
?

“Hey, we should stop and take a break,” Hunter called. “We need to check the map, change your bandage. A little lunch wouldn’t hurt either.”

She wanted to ignore him, to keep walking but shrugged instead, unwilling to let him see that his earlier comments still bothered her. “Fine. Let’s stop over by those rocks. It looks nice and shady.”

He nodded. “We’ll do the bandage first, then take care of the rest.”

“Okay.” Morgan sat on a large rock shaded by several tall pines, closed her eyes, let out a long sigh. Her weary body sagged as she rested her back against the boulder. She’d been so distracted by her dark thoughts, she hadn’t realized how tired she really was.

Morgan opened her eyes again, watched Hunter take a long drink of water before pulling the first aid kit from his pack. He sanitized his hands, moved close, until she could smell the Campsuds in his hair.

He unwrapped the bandage, pulled the piece of gauze from the wound. “Wow, okay, now we’re getting somewhere. This already looks a little better. A lot of the deep redness is gone. I don’t see any signs of pus or drainage. I think this will be as good as new in a couple of days.”

She lost the thread of their conversation as she studied Hunter kneeling before her. The day’s growth of dark blond beard accentuated the bold blue of his eyes. She itched to run her fingers over the rough stubble, to press her finger into the deep dimple in the center of his chin and have him look at her the way he had the night before. Having him so close, while he brushed his hands gently over hers, made her want to pull him close.

She cursed herself a thousand times and desperately tried to carry on the conversation he started. “Um, you seem to know what you’re talking about.”

He glanced up, meeting her gaze straight on. “Yeah, they give Force Recon pretty advanced medical training.” He looked down again, swabbed the wound with antiseptic. “Sometimes it’s not enough though.”

She frowned.
What did he mean?
She was about to ask but decided not to; he wouldn’t answer anyway.

After Hunter secured a new bandage, they ate lunch, studied the map.

“It looks like we’re about fifteen miles from the station. We’ll be back by nightfall, easy.”

Morgan swallowed a bite of apple. “Good; then all of this will be over.”

“Should be close.”

Because it was easier to be civil, Morgan continued. “I want a real meal and a hot shower. Steak and potatoes with grilled veggies.” She groaned. “God, that sounds like heaven. I can hardly wait. When we get back, we’ll tell Robert and Miles about the mine and—”

“No.”

Poised to bite into her apple again, she stopped. “What do you mean? Of course we will. They have to take care of this situation—immediately.”

“That’s not how we’re going to handle this. We’re going to grab our stuff, get in the car, and go to the airport. We’ll call your father when we get in the air.”

“I don’t understand. Why would we do that? The rangers are right here.” Her eyes never left his as she waited for his explanation.

“Can we do things the way I want without all the damn questions? Just once, could we try it that way?”

“Yes, that’s right, you don’t like questions.” She stood, put on her pack. “If this is how you want to handle things, fine, but you don’t have to fly back to D.C. with me. I can call my father and take care of everything from here on out. This is a federal issue. You did your part, now I get to do mine.”

“Morgan, I’m coming with you. My job isn’t technically over until my principal is out of danger. I will officially consider you out of harm’s way when we’ve contacted your father and you’re back in D.C.”

Her stomach sank. “Your principal?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, security jargon. You know, my client.”

His client.
“Yeah, I got it in one.” There was no heat in her words, just the acceptance of what was. He couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d slapped her. She took a step, started walking off.

He grabbed her arm. “Damn it, you know I didn’t mean anything by that.”

“No, Hunter, I don’t know much of anything when it comes to you.” She tried to pull away.

He yanked her back until they were face to face. “Wait.” He jammed his free hand through his hair in a gesture that screamed frustration. “Listen to me. I didn’t mean to hurt… Have-have dinner with me when we get back to D.C.”

She wanted to say yes, almost did, but what was the point? They’d eat, then he’d leave and she would never see him again. It was time to put an end to this here and now. “As your
client
, I think we’ve probably mixed more than enough business with pleasure, don’t you?” She broke free of his hold. “Let’s get going. I want a shower before we board a plane.” Turning, she walked off.

Chapter 22

H
UNTER STUFFED THE FOLDED MAP in the side pocket of his pack, glanced at his watch. He and Morgan were making good time. They were two miles from the ranger’s station; just as he thought, they’d be back long before nightfall.

Vivid pink painted the horizon as the sun began its descent toward the Rockies. The silhouette of massive mountains against the shock of color made a spectacular picture. Hunter took it all in, thrilled this would be his last night in Montana. There wasn’t much he would miss about this place, but the sunsets never disappointed.

As they walked in the woods, he caught glimpses of the valley through the trees. The wide, open space beyond was a welcome sight after hours in dense forest.

Spending time in the woods had never bothered him before. He’d spent months in the wilderness during his military training, but everything was different now. He needed to get home, to put his life back on an even keel. Since he’d laid eyes on Morgan, nothing had been the same. He was afraid it never would be.

He tried to shrug off the troublesome feelings he couldn’t shake without success. And like a lifeline for his racing mind, he recognized the massive boulder he and Morgan had passed as they left the trail days before. They were close now—about a half-mile if that.

They skirted the perimeter of the enormous rock, stepped to the walking path overgrown with ankle-high grass.

Hunter stayed two steps behind Morgan, watching her firm calf muscles bunch in time with her gait—which had slowed considerably over the last hour. Their breaks throughout the day had been quick, few and far between. The lack of rest and her heavy pack were taking their toll.

He fell into step beside her, and in the name of distraction, attempted easy conversation he knew she would rather do without. She’d thrown up a wall hours before he hadn’t been able to crack through. It bugged the hell out of him. “I sure wish we could stick around for those steaks you were talking about earlier. We’ll stop for something good when we get closer to Bozeman.”

She spared him a glance, kept walking.

He continued. “We might not be able to get a flight out tonight—more than likely we won’t. Maybe they’ll have a room at the place we stayed by the airport.”

“Make it
rooms
and that’ll be fine.”

“Sorry, you’re stuck with me for the next day or two. If we stay over, we’ll be sharing. You can put up with me for one more night.”

“You seem pretty sure of that.”

“Look, I’ve obviously handled things poorly—”

Hunter fell silent. A sudden wave of unease washed over him, skittering along his shoulder blades. His stomach pitched, and he stopped in his tracks. Nothing good ever happened when he felt the dreaded sensations.

“Morgan, stop.”

She did, automatically stepping closer to him.

He placed his body in front of hers, took his gun from the holster, searched the thick vegetation. “We have to move. We’re too open right now.”

“Open to what? To who?”

“I don’t know. Get behind those rocks until I do.” He pointed to a large grouping of boulders just beyond the tree line. He grabbed her hand and they ran.

They crouched behind their cover. Hunter dug through his pack until he found his binoculars.

Morgan grabbed hers too. “What are you looking for? If you tell me, I can help.” She put the binoculars to her eyes. “Someone’s coming. I think it’s…yes, look, it’s Robert.”

Robert walked down the path in his service uniform, stopped where Morgan and Hunter had moments before. He looked at the ground, his eyes trailing to the pile of rocks. He turned toward the forest behind him, made a waving motion.

“Hunter, what is he doing?”

He didn’t answer. He watched Robert pull a pistol from his belt as two police officers emerged through the trees.

“Shit, they’re onto us. We made tracks in the grass.” Hunter dropped his binoculars long enough to slide the rack on his gun, waiting. “Stay down, Morgan.”

A bullet pinged off the rocks in front of them. Morgan threw her hands over her mouth, stifling a scream.

Hunter shoved his knee against her shoulder, pushing her further down, dropped the binoculars he held one-handed and fired. The bullet hit one of the officers’ kneecaps. The man fell to the ground, screaming.

Two more bullets flew in rapid succession, ricocheting off the rocks. Tiny pebbles bounced backward, nicking Hunter in the cheek, stinging on impact. Blood dribbled. He swiped at it with his shoulder.

The uninjured cop ran from the cover of one tree to a large pine just feet away.

Hunter zeroed in on his target. He fired once, hitting the officer in the right foot, fired a second time while the man fell forward, severing his Achilles heel on the opposite foot.