The Untamed Hunter. Lindsay McKenna

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СКАЧАТЬ confidently out of the elevator. Choosing a table and chairs near the window, on one side of the cafeteria, she sat down. Shep sauntered over and placed the briefcase on one of the empty chairs.

      “Can I get you some coffee?” he asked. “If I remember right, you like it sweet and blond.”

      Maggie sat very still. She looked up at him. She saw the struggle in Shep’s normally inexpressive face. His voice was low and intimate. Her flesh prickled. Oh, how tender a lover he could be! All that hard invincibility melted away to leave a man with breath-stealing sensitivity in its wake. Maggie found herself aching to be with that man once again. Stymied, and afraid of her own heart, she muttered with defiance, “Yes, coffee would be fine, thank you.”

      He smiled a little at her petulance. “And if I’m reading you correctly, a shot of brandy in it to quell your nerves?”

      Shutting her eyes, Maggie felt her heart blossoming beneath his gentle cajoling. No, Shep was still the old Shep she knew. Oh, how was she going to survive this? She was more afraid of him than the damned assignment!

      Opening her eyes, she fearlessly met the warmth that now filled his blue gaze. “Right now, a shot of whiskey would be my choice.”

      Nodding, he said, “I think I understand why. I’ll be back in a minute.”

      Just watching him saunter over to the serving area, Maggie sighed. She was being nasty to him when he didn’t deserve it. Yet he seemed to be taking her in stride and not letting her attitude get to him personally.

      When Shep arrived back at their table, he held a tray filled with food. He set a cup of coffee in front of Maggie, and then a saucer that contained a huge pecan sticky bun. He placed a second plate, piled high with fluffy scrambled eggs, six slices of bacon, hash browns and grits, on his side of the table.

      “I’m not hungry,” Maggie said, pushing the plate with the sticky bun toward him as he sat down.

      “I remember it was your favorite pastry,” he told her, unruffled, as he settled into the chair. The look on her face was one of puzzlement and heartbreaking sadness. With a one-shouldered shrug, he murmured, “But look, if you aren’t hungry, I’ll eat it.”

      Not hungry? Maggie was starved for his touch. Even the briefest of ones. But Shep could never know that. “Thanks…you can have it.”

      Scooping up a forkful of the eggs, he gazed across at Maggie as she wrapped her fingers around her coffee mug. “You still get cold fingers when you’re upset.”

      Nodding, she took a sip of the coffee. “I switched to drinking tea a long time ago, Hunter. Being around you makes me want to have coffee again.”

      His mouth curved in a slight smile. “So, is this good or bad, Dr. Harper?” he deliberately teased her. For a moment, Shep saw her shoulders, which were gathered with tension, begin to relax slightly.

      “Being around you is like a bad cold returning.”

      “Thank you.”

      “Only you would take that as a compliment, Hunter!”

      Chuckling, he spread some strawberry jam on his toast. “You haven’t changed at all, Maggie. I was wondering if you had, but I can see you haven’t.”

      “Well,” she said under her breath, leaning forward so only he could hear her, “you haven’t, either.”

      Gazing at her was like looking at a delicious dessert to him. “So, where does that leave us?”

      “At odds with one another. As usual.”

      “Eighteen years is a long time, Maggie.”

      “And it’s like a blink of an eye, because you were the same then as you are now.”

      “Thank you—I think.”

      “Don’t start preening, Hunter, because it wasn’t a compliment and you know it.”

      “How’s your coffee? Did I get the right amount of cream and sugar in it?”

      Flushing, she refused to meet his gaze. Hands gripping her cup, she looked down at it. “Like I said, nothing has changed.”

      “We’re older, if that helps?”

      “Just more stuck in our same old patterns and personalities as far as I’m concerned,” Maggie retorted. She saw his gaze thaw considerably. When she realized he really wasn’t taking anything she said personally, she was stunned. Back then, he had. They’d fought all the time. Fought and made up. And the making up had been incredibly delicious.

      “Maybe,” he said. “Life has thrown me a couple of curves. I hope I’ve learned from them.”

      She sipped her coffee, feeling rebellious. Hunter always brought out her feistiness. Only he could. She wasn’t explosive like this with any other man she’d ever had a relationship with. Only around him. “Whatever the reasons, Shep, you bring out the worst in me. All we did then was fight, and from the looks of it, it’s starting up all over again.” Her nostrils flared. She hated it when her voice quivered with emotion as it did now.

      Shep ate slowly, thinking about how he was going to handle Maggie on this mission. There was much more at stake here than she realized. He had to be the boss on this venture whether she liked it or not. At this moment, he wasn’t ready to tell her that. They had a day to get ready. One way or another, Maggie was going to have to bend to his way of doing things. Or else…

      Three

      “I’ll drive,” Shep said, heading around the car they would be using. The vehicle was parked in the underground garage of the OID building. The July morning was warm and humid, hinting of the high temperatures and humidity to come in the sultry afternoon hours.

      “Hold your horses, Hunter.”

      He turned, surprised at the warning in Maggie’s voice. As she stood near the passenger side of the car, Shep had a tough time keeping his gaze from devouring her, because to him, she looked beautiful in the comfortable khaki slacks and dark blue blouse she wore. The sleeves of the blouse were decorated with a touch of lace, giving her a very feminine look. Beneath the silk of the blouse he knew she wore her flak jacket, mandatory on this mission. He was wearing his beneath his white shirt and sport coat. Already the thing was beginning to chafe him, but he knew the wisdom of wearing it.

      “What?” She was looking at him with her eyes narrowed. Shep knew that look. Halting, his hands on the top of the car near the driver’s door, he said, “What’s the problem?”

      “How can you ask?” Maggie demanded. She tried mightily to ignore how handsome he looked this morning. His black hair was damp and gleaming from his recent shower. His jaw was scraped free of the shadow of beard that would inevitably appear in the afternoon hours. His eyes were bloodshot, and she wondered if he’d gotten much sleep last night. She sure hadn’t; too much of their tortured and passionate past had kept resurrecting itself before her closed eyes while she lay in bed. “Shep, this is not a replay of eighteen years ago. You think you know everything. You think that, as usual, I’m a hothouse violet incapable of being your equal.”

      “Wait a minute—”

      “No,” СКАЧАТЬ