Hunter. Diana Palmer

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      He leaned forward, his silver hair gleaming in the light from the window behind him, his pale blue eyes curious. “Getting lonely since Danetta married my son and moved out?”

      “I do miss my cousin,” Jenny replied, smiling. “She was a great roommate.” She leaned forward. “But I don’t miss the lounge lizard!”

      He chuckled. “I guess she misses him. Danetta’s iguana is living with us, now, and my youngest son Nicky and he are best friends already. Cabe has promised Danetta a nice stuffed one for a pet anytime she wants it.”

      Jenny smothered a grin. Her employer’s older son Cabe was well-known for his aversion to anything with scales; especially iguanas named Norman. Jenny had gotten used to the big lizard, after a fashion, but it was a lot more comfortable living without him.

      “I’ve got a proposition for you,” Ritter said without further preamble. “There’s a piece of land down in Arizona that I want you to run a field survey on. I’ll send down your equipment and you can camp out for a few days until you can get me a preliminary map of the area and study the outcroppings.”

      She knew she was going white. “The Arizona desert?”

      “That’s right. Quiet place. Pretty country. Peace.”

      “Rattlesnakes! Men with guns in four-wheel drives! Indians!”

      “Shhhhh! Hunter might hear you!” he said, putting his finger to his lips.

      She glared at him. “I am not afraid of tall Apaches named Hunter. I meant the other ones, the ones who don’t work for us.”

      “Listen, honey, the Apaches don’t raid the settlements anymore, and it’s been years since anybody was shot with an arrow.”

      She glared harder. “Send Hunter.”

      “Oh, I’m going to,” he said. “I’m glad you agree that he’s the man for the job. The two of you can keep each other company. He’ll be your protection while you sound out this find for me.”

      “Me? Alone in the desert with Hunter for several days and nights?” She almost choked. “You can’t do it! We’ll kill each other!”

      “Not right away,” he said. “Besides, you’re the best geologist I have and we can’t afford to take chances, not with the goings-on of the past month. And our adversary is still loose somewhere. That’s why I want you to camp in a different section each night, to throw him off the track. You’ll go to the target area on the second night. I’ll show you on the map where it is. You aren’t to tell anyone.”

      “Not even Hunter?” she asked.

      “You can try not to, but Hunter knows everything.”

      “He thinks he does,” she agrees. “I’ll bet he invented bread…”

      “Cut it out. This is an assignment, you’re an employee, I’m the boss. Quit or pack.”

      She threw up her hands. “What a choice. You pay me a duke’s ransom for what I do already and then you threaten me with poverty. That’s no choice.”

      He grinned at her. “Good. Hunter doesn’t bite.”

      “Want to see the teeth marks?” she countered. “He snapped my head off the night we lost that other agent. He said it was my fault!”

      “How could it have been?”

      “I don’t know, but that’s what he said. Does it have to be Hunter? Why can’t you send that nice Mallory boy with me? I like him.”

      “That’s why I won’t send him. Hunter isn’t nice, but he’ll keep you alive and protect my investment. There isn’t a better man for this kind of work.”

      She had to agree, but she didn’t like having to. “Can I have combat pay?”

      “Listen or get out.”

      “Yes, sir.” She sat with resignation written all over her. “What are we looking for? Oil? Molybdenum? Uranium?”

      “Best place to look for oil right now is western Wyoming,” he reminded her. “Best place to look for moly is Colorado or southern Arizona. And that’s why I’m sending you to Arizona—molybdenum. And maybe gold.”

      She whistled softly. “What an expedition.”

      “Now you know why I want secrecy,” he agreed. “Hunter and you will make a good team. You’re both clams. No possibility of security leaks. Get your gear together and be ready to leave at six in the morning. I’ll have Hunter pick you up at your apartment.”

      “I could get to the airport by myself,” she volunteered quickly.

      “Scared of him?” Ritter taunted, his pale eyes twinkling at her discomfort.

      She lifted her chin and glared at him. “No. Of course not.” “Good. He’ll look after you. Have fun.”

      Fun, she thought as she left the room, wasn’t exactly her definition of several days in the desert with Hunter. In fact, she couldn’t think of anything she was dreading more.

      Back in the office she shared with her colleagues, two of her coworkers were waiting. “What is it?” they chorused. “Moly? Uranium? A new oil strike?”

      “Well, we haven’t found another Spindletop,” she said with a grin, “so don’t worry about losing out on all that fame. Maybe he just thinks I need a vacation.” She blew on her fingernails and buffed them on her knit blouse. “After all,” she said with a mock haughty glance at the two men, “he knows I do all the work around here.”

      One of her coworkers threw a rolled-up map at her and she retreated to her own drafting board, saved from having to give them a direct answer. They all knew the score, though, and wouldn’t have pressed her. A lot of their work was confidential.

      She’d just finished her meager lunch and was on her way back into the building when she encountered a cold, angry Hunter in the hallway that led to her own office.

      The sight of him was enough to give her goose bumps. Hunter was over six feet tall, every inch of him pure muscle and power. He moved with singular grace and elegance, and it wasn’t just his magnificent physique that drew women’s eyes to him. He had an arrogance of carriage that was peculiarly his, a way of looking at people that made them feel smaller and less significant. Master of all he surveys, Jenny thought insignificantly, watching his black eyes cut toward her under his heavy dark eyebrows. His eyes were deep-set in that lean, dark face with its high cheekbones and straight nose and thin, cruel-looking mouth. It wouldn’t be at all difficult to picture Hunter in full Apache war regalia, complete with long feathered bonnet. She got chills just thinking about having to face him over a gun, and thanked God that this was the twentieth century and they’d made peace with the Apache. Well, with most of them. This one looked and sometimes acted as if he’d never signed any peace treaties.

      In her early days with the company, she’d made the unforgivable mistake of raising her hand and saying “how.” She got nervous now just remembering the faux pas, remembering the feverish embarrassment СКАЧАТЬ