Amber Eyes (Wild 2)

“Not at all. She’ll stay tonight, and if in the morning she’s still hot to trot to get out of here, you and I will take her home and make sure she hasn’t lied to us about having a place to live.”

He turned to her again and eyed her levelly. “Got a problem with that?”

She swallowed and shook her head. What else could she do or say? She cast a longing glance toward the window to where pale moonlight bathed the snow. The cougar rolled within, edgy and impatient. Run.

She shook off the instinct. Then she looked back up at Hunter and then Jericho. “I will stay tonight, but tomorrow I must leave.”

Chapter Six

Jericho sprawled on the sofa in front of the fire and took turns watching Kaya pace across the floor as she alternately stared from him and Hunter to outside the window, and Hunter who observed Kaya in brooding silence.

There was enough tension to dull his sharpest buck knife.

“Hell, you don’t even have any goddamn shoes,” Jericho said as his gaze dropped to her bare feet.

She glanced down as if the thought had not occurred to her. “It doesn’t matter.”

“The hell it doesn’t,” Hunter growled. “Who are you, Kaya, and what the hell are you running from?”

She blinked. “I’m not running from anyone.”

Jericho could see the surprised sincerity in her face. She wasn’t lying. Which made it all the more puzzling. He didn’t get her, and it bugged the shit out of him.

Hunter snorted. “You’re trying to tell me that it’s perfectly normal to run around in the snow, no clothes, no shoes. You have no food wherever it is you live. We find you in a damn cave that could be inhabited by all sorts of wild animals.”

She cocked her head, and her brow furrowed as she studied Hunter. “I never said I was normal. I imagine you find me strange, but I’ve committed no crime. No one is after me. I simply prefer to be…alone.”

A flash of pain accompanied her last words. Hunter didn’t miss it either.

“What happened to you?” Hunter asked softly.

“What happened to you?” Kaya thrust her chin up in challenge as she stared him down. “You and Jericho live up here alone. No people for miles. You drag in at odd times and stay holed up in here until you leave again, and then you don’t come back for weeks.”

Both men stared at her in shock.

“How the hell would you know that?” Jericho asked softly.

Another look of fright scurried across her face, and she visibly retreated. “I told you I lived here. These mountains are my home.”

“We’re not talking about us,” Hunter pointed out. “We’re talking about you.”

“Not anymore,” she said stubbornly.

Jericho shook his head. He’d never come across a woman like Kaya. Ever. And he’d met some doozies.

Was the only reason he didn’t want her to leave because he was concerned about her? Or was it a case of wanting? He wanted her.

He couldn’t claim desperation. It wasn’t as if he lived like a complete monk. That was Hunter’s job. There was something elemental about Kaya. An earthy beauty that went far beyond the outer trappings. She was mysterious and soulful looking, a lost waif with liquid amber eyes.

Short of tying her down, he didn’t see a way to keep her from leaving, and it frustrated the hell out of him. How could he just turn her out into the snow, no matter how much she wanted to go? Yet, how could he keep her against her will?

He looked at Hunter for help, but Hunter was unreadable, his thoughts closed off by his look of indifference.

“Where will I sleep tonight?” she asked quietly.

“You can have my room,” Hunter said. “I’ll sleep out here on the couch.”

A look of wonder crossed her face. “I can have your bed?”

Hunter’s lips thinned, and he frowned harder. “I said I’d sleep out here.”

“Then I would very much like to go there now. I’m tired, and a bed would feel so wonderful.”

Jericho started to rise, but Hunter beat him to the punch. “Would you like anything else before you go to bed?”

She shook her head. “You and Jericho have been very kind. It was nice to visit with you both.”

Hunter shot Jericho a strange look. Jericho shrugged. He didn’t understand this woman any more than Hunter did. She made it sound like the entire episode had been nothing more than a social call. And to think he used to believe that nothing out of the ordinary ever happened up here. Just the way he liked it.

“Come on, I’ll show you to the bedroom,” Hunter muttered.

Jericho sat in silence, contemplating the oddity of their encounter with Kaya. A few minutes later, Hunter returned and flopped down in the chair next to the couch.

“What the hell kind of bizarre case have we got, Jericho?”

“Fuck if I know. I’ve never been so goddamn confused in my life. You get the sense we’re not getting the full story?”

“And what was your first clue?”

“Maybe she just wanted company for a while. If she does live up here, there aren’t a lot of folks around.”

“Yeah, but where does she live? I don’t know of another cabin or dwelling within miles,” Hunter said. “And there’s the fact that we dragged her out of a cave in the dead of winter. At first I thought she was a few boxes short of a full load, but she seems okay, if a little odd.”

“For someone who didn’t seem to want anything to do with her, you sure were quick to tell her she couldn’t leave.”

Hunter scowled. “She’s your stray.”

“And you can’t make up your mind whether you want her or not, am I right?”

Hunter’s eyes flickered as he caught Jericho’s gaze. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Just what I said. You seem to battle over whether or not you’re going to admit you want her. One minute you’re all but holding the door open for her to leave and the next you’re threatening to tie her to a chair.”

Hunter’s scowl deepened. “If she wants to leave, I can’t stop her.”

“But you want to stop her.”

“Shut the fuck up, man. It doesn’t matter what we want.”

Jericho acknowledged that with a nod. “That’s true.”

“She couldn’t stay anyway,” Hunter continued on. “We’re likely to be called away any time, and she sure as hell can’t go with us.”

Silence fell over the living room. Hunter stared broodingly into the fire while Jericho focused his attention on nothing in particular.

“Do you ever think about giving it up?” J

ericho asked.

Hunter’s head whipped around. “Give what up?”

“The job. What we do.”

“That’s a dumbass question. We promised Rebeccah.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have,” Jericho said quietly. “And we didn’t promise her that we’d keep running ourselves to death. We promised to support her cause. We’ve earned enough money for two lifetimes. When are we going to slow down and have a life?”

“You’re saying you want to quit?” Hunter asked in disbelief.

“Maybe. I don’t know. There has to be more to life than what we’re doing. Rebeccah is gone. We can’t bring her back by killing ourselves.”

Hunter closed his eyes and reclined his head until he faced the ceiling. “You want to know why I keep going?”

Jericho didn’t say anything.

“Because I can’t remember what she looks like sometimes. I get away from the kids, the camps, and she starts to fade, but when I’m there, I can see her. Smiling and laughing. I don’t want to forget.”

The last was said with a note of raw agony that cut Jericho to the core.

“I loved her too,” he said in a low voice. “But she’s gone. We can’t bring her back.”

“No, but we can keep her memory alive by helping the kids she loved more than anything.”

“There are ways to do it other than the way we’ve gone about it,” Jericho said carefully.

Hunter didn’t reply, and Jericho didn’t chase it further. He’d said enough. Planted the idea in Hunter’s head. He’d have to make the decision on his own.

Kaya woke after only a few hours. She was used to fractured sleep, taking what she could when she could. For a moment, she snuggled deeper into the covers and inhaled the firm, masculine scent that permeated the bed.

Hunter’s smell was so different from Jericho’s, and yet both told of powerful, strong men.

How she wished she could stay, but she couldn’t go much longer without shifting. She simply hadn’t spent enough time as a human over the years. The cougar was strong within her. Willful and protective. It was too easy to let the cat have her way. Already she’d been denied longer than she was used to.