Hunter's Quest

Chapter 5

Chapter Four

The evening sun blazed bright orange, sinking

behind the trees, as Kristie returned to her room at the Economy

Inn for the second time in just under an hour. She was alone this

time and looked around carefully before getting out of the car and

heading for her door. The headache was nearly gone, although

apprehension about the man waiting in her room took its place in

making her uncomfortable. She fumbled getting the key into the slot

and turning it, while holding onto the three bags she carried.

She stepped inside and looked around. The

room was quiet and still. No movement, no human presence. The

indent of a body showed on one of the beds, where the pillows had

been piled up to make a comfortable place to lounge. No occupant.

The door to the bathroom stood open but no sound came from

there.

Had he changed his mind and left? A thread of

relief began to curl through her. She advanced into the room and

flipped the light switch.

A hand grabbed her from behind.

“Yikes!” She shrieked and almost dropped the

bags.

Jason tightened his grip on her arm to steady

her. She spun around to meet his eyes, wondering what he was doing.

Then she forgot to wonder anymore as she was snared by his gaze.

That charisma thing was blazing at full blast again. He had

extraordinary eyes. Dangerous, brilliant eyes. Viewed close up,

they gleamed with flecks of ice blue and silver that might have

looked forbidding except for the banked fire glinting in their

depths. For a moment they stood still and stared at each other.

Kristie felt paralyzed, unable to move her

head enough to tear her gaze away from his. His breath caught in a

slight hitch. He reached toward her and ran a single fingertip

along her bottom lip. The tingles from that contact sent a shiver

along her spine all the way down to her toes. No, and no, and no.

Not happening. She stepped back from him.

He let his hand drop. “Sorry. I didn’t mean

to startle you. I wasn’t sure... “

Kristie sagged “You scared me out of a year’s

growth.” She collected breath and wits and turned to set the bags

on the small round table beside the window. “What’s the idea?”

“Just being careful.” He tried to make it

sound light and casual, but she wasn’t fooled, even when he peered

into the bag marked with the words Burger King and sniffed. “You’re

an angel. What did I do to deserve this?”

“Nothing yet.” She emptied the contents of

one of the other bags onto the table. Packages of bandages, tape,

ointment, and disinfectant rolled out, along with a liquid soap the

druggist told her hospitals used to clean out wounds and the

tight-fitting rubber gloves he urged on her. “It’s your reward for

being good and sitting still while I clean up your arm.”

“Is it a Whopper?”

“Three of them. With cheese.”

“I won’t make a sound,” he promised. “But

shouldn’t we eat them while they’re still warm?”

“I said they were for after.”

His smile would have melted harder hearts

than hers, though it did little to dispel her doubts about him. A

hundred-Watt smile at least, and it lit his face with dangerous

charm. “I’m hungry,” he said. “Very hungry. My stomach is in much

worse shape than my arm.”

“I guess it does make sense to eat before the

fries get limp and cold.”

“A woman of intelligence.” He began pulling

cartons out of the bag and setting them on the table. “Drinks?”

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Jason didn’t hide

behind the door when she got back with ice and sodas, but he ducked

to the side to be sure no one outside could see him. The curtains

still fluttered, probably from his peeking out to check who’d put

the key in the lock. He stopped next to the small, round table in

front of the window, where he’d set out food, napkins, and plastic

utensils in a neat arrangement. He waved her into a chair with a

flourish that was almost a bow. The light-hearted expression didn’t

quite drive the tension from his face. She wondered what he was

trying to accomplish with this show of courtesy and charm.

He didn’t use the left arm much during

dinner, but that didn’t keep him from downing two burgers and most

of the fries. Kristie pulled open the soda can for him, but he

managed on his own otherwise. Throughout the meal his expression

wavered between the charm he wore as a mask and an occasional,

thoughtful frown.

Sitting opposite him, watching the man eat,

Kristie wrestled with her misgivings. She wanted him out of her

life, but whatever forces were behind the messages she’d heard had

other ideas. It couldn’t be smart to let him stay. Was her

impression of his integrity and courage in the face of long odds a

genuine reading or self-deception? The sense of destiny, or the

mysterious message? Or was it the appeal of a pair of stunning blue

eyes and the s****l electricity radiating from his lean, tough

body?

She shivered as she remembered the glimpse of

barely leashed anger she’d seen when she’d asked about Chet’s

activities. Hanging around with this man couldn’t possibly be a

good idea. At the moment, however, he was injured and vulnerable,

and apparently had nowhere to go he felt safe. The sooner she got

him fixed up and on his way again, the better.

Jason looked around the room a couple of

times, noting her one suitcase, the camera case, notebooks, the

tote bag filled with books, maps, travel literature, and various

other oddments. “You’re traveling solo, I gather? Business or

vacation?”

“It’s kind of both. Call it a working

vacation.”

“By yourself?”

How should she answer that? Her lack of

traveling companions was pretty obvious. For the first time she

questioned the decision to travel alone. “A couple of friends back

home know where I’ve gone and what I’m doing.”

Jason dunked a bunch of fries into a puddle

of ketchup and swirled them around to coat them. “Very wise. What

do you do?” The potatoes made it to his mouth but a spot of ketchup

dribbled off onto the table. He wiped it up with one of the paper

napkins.

“Photographer. Freelance.”

“You’re on assignment?”

“Not exactly. I want to specialize in nature

and wildlife photography. I’m putting together a portfolio of

pictures I can sell to magazines and other publishers on an ‘as

needed’ basis. Lots of online sites sell them now too.”

Jason nodded and picked up the second burger.

“Can you make a living selling pictures like that?”

“Not really,” she admitted. “For most of the

year, I do weddings and babies and yearbook pictures. It pays the

bills. But I like working outdoors and looking for the unusual and

different.”

“That’s what you were doing earlier, when you

nearly ran me down?” He stuffed the last bit of the burger into his

mouth and wiped his fingers on the napkin.

“You were playing chicken.”

A half-grin twisted his lips. “Setting the

scene.”

“Risking your life,” she answered dryly.

“All part of the job.”

“You’re in a dangerous profession, then.”

The almost-smile disappeared and his

expression darkened. He didn’t answer and she didn’t pursue it.

Once they finished, he helped her clean up

the remains of the meal and toss the wrappers in the trash. She

almost wished he wouldn’t be so helpful and polite. It would make

it so much easier when the time came to drop him off and let him

walk out of her life.

“Okay,” she announced when that task was

done. “You’ve put it off long enough. We’ve got to do something

about your arm. And the other scrapes and cuts. Come on, Mr. Macho,

let’s get this show underway.”

His back was to her, but the broad shoulders

stiffened for a moment, then relaxed slowly, as though he willed

himself to calm. “Are you sure you’re up to this?” he asked,

without turning. “It could be ugly.”

Heck, no, she wasn’t up to it. But if it

would satisfy her conscience and The Voice and get rid of him

sooner, she’d manage. She heaved a deep breath. “I’m ready. Are you

sure you don’t want to change your mind and go find a doctor? They

can shoot you up with pain killers and stuff I can’t. This won’t be

fun.”

“I’ll trust to your gentle hands” His back

stiffened again.

Something about the way he held himself was

familiar, though it took her a minute to place it. “Were you in the

military?”

He turned to face her, a look of surprise

drawing his features out of the tight control. “Marines. Four

years, before I went to college. I’ve been out for eight years now.

It still shows?”

“Sometimes. You’d better take the shirt off.

We might have to soak it off your arm since the blood’s dried on

it. What did you do in the Marines?”

“Intelligence analyst. Mostly reviewing data

from satellite photos of problem areas.” He unbuttoned the grimy

shirt and pulled it off the good arm. He tried to tug it away from

the wound above his left elbow but only made himself wince and grit

his teeth. “I think you’re right about having to soak this

off.”

Kristie studied him, noting several places

where scratches or abrasions marred the smooth, brown skin of his

chest. He had well-defined muscles, not bunched and bulging, but

solid and hard. An assortment of bruises showed in discolored

patches on his shoulders and along his ribcage.

She didn’t want to feel sympathy for his

pain. She really didn’t want to feel any desire to touch his flesh

and try to soothe him. Or to wonder what it would be like to kiss

him. Damn it. This was the last man she should be interested in.

Danger and violence surrounded him like a shroud.

She shook herself loose from the bemusement

and went to dump the ice out of the bucket. While she refilled it

with warm water, Jason turned on the television and began flipping

around the dial. By the time she had everything ready, he’d found a

detective show he recognized. He sat in a chair by the window, arm

propped on the table where she could reach it easily, and stared at

the television screen with fierce concentration.