On the Hunt (Sentinel Wars #3.5)(71)
Author: Gena Showalter

"I’m listening to you."

"But you don’t believe me."

"I didn’t sense a damn thing about her—so to speak." Mason laughed and Jamie gave him a mirthless look in return. "I could sense Juliana’s demon from the moment I laid eyes on her,"

Mason argued. "With Sunny, I get nothing. Shay’s obviously got nothing, too."

"Maybe I’m just a better hunter than you both."

Mason rolled his eyes. "Oh, you did not just say that."

"I’m the eldest, which means I’ve had the sight longer than either of you."

"You’re the head honcho, bro, but that don’t make you the most talented in our bunch. You are wrong sometimes."

"Name a time."

"Uh, how about now? It’s not just Shay and me against you on this one. Dillon’s developed a really strong gift with his hunting, too. So that’s three of us who don’t sense anything wrong with Sunny."

Mason’s boyfriend, Nikos, came into the kitchen right then, and Mace’s eyes lit up when he saw that Nik had arrived. "Hey, you know how to work a margarita machine?" he asked as Nikos gave him a quick kiss.

They shared a flirtatious glance as Mace handed over the directions, and it was clear that Mason had already halfway forgotten his conversation with Jamie. It was annoying to be around people who had recently fallen in love, and Jamie rolled his eyes, thinking about how passion blinded people to plain good sense.

Wait. That was it…. He could use that very thing against Sunny. Get her guard down, then learn the truth. She’d responded to him physically, even though she’d tried to knock him down a few pegs. He’d seen the lust and arousal flare in her eyes, and he’d smelled the desire radiating off her skin, too.

Come New Year’s night, he’d find a way to get much, much closer to the woman and, in the process, discover her secret. Then again, why wait at all? What was wrong with enacting his seduction plan today with the power of a few margaritas?

Chapter Three

"Think you can hide from me out here?" Jamie Angel stepped onto the upstairs balcony, where Sunny had been sitting for a few minutes. She loved the bubbling sounds of the creek and marsh.

For the end of December, it was an unusually mild evening, and the light breeze from the water was soothing.

And, yes, she had been completely avoiding Jamie for hours, the balcony only her latest effort in that battle. He was too hot, too sexy, and way, way too dangerous. That, and he’d made an obvious point of trying to pursue her ever since brunch. The long afternoon had stretched into early evening, with the holidays clearly making everyone relaxed. Around three p.m., Mason had broken out the margarita machine he’d received as a Christmas present from Shay, and now pretty much everyone was feeling a little bit toasty.

Jamie sprawled into a wicker chair beside her, draining the last of his margarita. "You didn’t answer me, Sunny." He propped his booted feet up on the balcony railing, tilting his chair back onto two legs in a relaxed, sexy posture. "You’ve been avoiding me," he observed. "Why?"

"Because you’re a bad boy and I know your kind." She shifted in her own chair, knowing she should leave, yet finding that she lacked the will to do so.

"What happened to me being a pu**y cat?" He said the last word with a wicked grin.

She rolled her eyes. "You just proved my point most elegantly."

He smiled at her, and for once it didn’t seem manufactured or intended to accomplish anything.

And it absolutely melted her heart. To see a glimpse of the real Jamie, for just a moment, affected her more strongly than any of his flirtation or innuendo ever could. There was genuine sweetness there. She sensed that he hid it from almost everyone in his life—and that he guarded his heart just as vigilantly.

After a long moment during which it seemed their gazes were locked, neither able to look away or stop smiling at the other, he faced forward again. Reaching in the pocket of his denim jacket, he retrieved a cigar and slowly began trimming it.

"You mind?" he asked as an obvious afterthought, gesturing with the cigar.

She shook her head and rose to her feet. "I was just about to go inside anyway."

As she started to walk past him, Jamie blocked her exit with his left leg, trapping her close against him. "Not so fast, Sunny Renfroe."

There was danger in his tone, but as she looked down into his light green eyes, there was a heap more flirtation.

"I have plans for us," he said, and before she could blink, he reached out and ran one hand along her upper thigh. Slowly he stroked her there, his touch so lingering and sensual that her eyes watered. "Yep, you’re as good as I thought you’d be," he whispered throatily. "Better."

She should’ve shoved him out of the way; she should’ve hightailed it to the other side of the veranda. Instead, she stood mesmerized, feeling her skin practically burn as he caressed her leg again, a little higher.

"Why you been avoiding me, huh?" He gazed up at her through slightly lowered lashes. "I’m beginning to think you don’t like me very much."

His fingertips rode up beneath the hem of her short skirt. Her breathing increased and her heart thundered so hard that blood rushed in her ears.

"But you do like that. I can tell." His beautiful eyes became filled with desire. "So do I."

When his fingertips snaked their way much higher, nearing the edge of her panties, Sunny came back to her senses. Taking hold of his hand, she forced it from underneath her skirt. "Jamie . . . you need to stop . . . now."

"Why?"

For Jamie, it undoubtedly was that simple: If you liked someone or were attracted to them, you hooked up. No attachments, no entanglements, just pure, uncomplicated pleasure.

Not in her world.

He continued staring into her eyes, waiting for some kind of answer, and only then did she realize that their fingers had become entwined, neither of them letting go. "Because I don’t even know you."

"But you could. . . ." He gave her a suggestive glance. "In fact, it’s downright biblical. To ‘know’ me. Very Old Testament, since that was the euphemism they chose."

She flushed. "That’s disrespectful."

"God invented sex," he said matter-of-factly. "I happen to believe in God and in great lovemaking. I don’t see a conflict of interest."

Oh, for me there’s one, she thought, trying to still the crazy tempo of her heartbeat and breathing.

"Well," she said on an unsteady exhale, "I don’t believe in having sex with someone I just met."

He gave her a ravishing smile, his deep dimples popping into view. "Now, that, Sunny Renfroe, is a full-on crying shame."