Heart Of A Hunter

“Olivia,” Sebastian said gently, “please stop fighting me. We have to go in the house.”

Her blue eyes still held the hollow look of fear. Olivia wasn’t there; she was still lost. “I can’t…I can’t breathe in there.” Her voice was a whisper. “I need to breathe.”

He’d thought he could keep the truth from her. That he could hold her in the safety of the house while he tracked down the stalker. He saw now that that was impossible. To keep her safe, he would have to confess the truth.

“I know you do, sweetheart. But there’s someone out there who wants to hurt you. And he’ll go through anyone and anything to destroy what I care for the most.”

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

Those April showers go hand in hand with a welcome downpour of gripping romantic suspense in the Harlequin Intrigue line this month!

Reader-favorite Rebecca York returns to the legendary 43 LIGHT STREET with Out of Nowhere—an entrancing tale about a beautiful blond amnesiac who proves downright lethal to a hard-edged detective’s heart. Then take a detour to New Mexico for Shotgun Daddy by Harper Allen—the conclusion in the MEN OF THE DOUBLE B RANCH trilogy. In this story a Navajo protector must safeguard the woman from his past who is nurturing a ticking time bomb of a secret.

The momentum keeps building as Sylvie Kurtz launches her brand-new miniseries—THE SEEKERS—about men dedicated to truth, justice…and protecting the women they love. But at what cost? Don’t miss the debut book, Heart of a Hunter, where the search for a killer just might culminate in rekindled love. Passion and peril go hand in hand in Agent Cowboy by Debra Webb, when COLBY AGENCY investigator Trent Tucker races against time to crack a case of triple murder!

Rounding off a month of addictive romantic thrillers, watch for the continuation of two new thematic promotions. A handsome sheriff saves the day in Restless Spirit by Cassie Miles, which is part of COWBOY COPS. Sudden Recall by Jean Barrett is the latest in our DEAD BOLT series about silent memories that unlock simmering passions.

Enjoy all of our great offerings.

Sincerely,

Denise O’Sullivan

Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue

Heart of a Hunter

Sylvie Kurtz

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my family whose continued support

means the world to me.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Even a mild traumatic brain injury

can alter a person for a lifetime. Becuase of the short time frame of this story and because it is a romance, I downplayed the pain and the expected physical symptoms someone with Olivia’s injuries would feel. Her recovery is an ongoing process that will require her to adapt and will probably last the rest of her life.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Flying an eight-hour solo cross-country in a Piper Arrow with only the airplane’s crackling radio and a large bag of M&M’s for company, Sylvie Kurtz realized a pilot’s life wasn’t for her. The stories zooming in and out of her mind proved more entertaining than the flight itself. Not a quitter, she finished her pilot’s course and earned her commercial license and instrument rating.

Since then, she has traded in her wings for a keyboard where she lets her imagination soar to create fictional adventures that explore the power of love and the thrill of suspense. When not writing, she enjoys the outdoors with her husband and two children, quilt making, photography and reading whatever catches her interest..

You can write to Sylvie at

P.O. Box 702, Milford, NH 03055. And visit her Web site at www.sylviekurtz.com.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Sebastian Falconer—He’s a U.S. Marshal caught between duty to the service and love for his wife, his haven.

Olivia Falconer—She’s an artist who doesn’t remember how to paint, and a wife who doesn’t remember her love for her husband.

Paula Woodruff—Olivia’s sister is determined to save her sister from her husband’s domination.

Cari Woodruff—Paula’s daughter wants someone to take responsibility for her father’s death.

Edwin Sutton—Sebastian’s boss is on a fast track to success and won’t let anything stain his perfect image.

Bernie Kershaw—The fugitive is wanted for armed robbery, rape and murder. He’s out for revenge for being caged.

Nathan Kershaw—Bernie’s brother is tired of playing second fiddle.

Mario Menard—The Aerie’s groundskeeper keeps an eye out for trouble. But did he have a hand in the security break?

Sean Greco—The U.S. Marshal is angry and dirty.

Allan Verani—Greco’s roommate wants what he was promised.

Nelson Weld—The small-time thief is ready to sing to keep his freedom.

Kiki Bates—Weld’s girlfriend has pinned all her hopes on the wrong man.

OLIVIA’S CHOCOLATE ORANGE SNACK CAKE

1 2/3 cups flour

1 cup packed brown sugar

¼ cup cocoa

1 tsp baking soda

½ tsp salt

1 cup orange juice

1 tsp vinegar

½ tsp orange extract

½ cup semisweet mini chocolate chips

Heat oven to 350°F. Mix flour, brown sugar, cocoa, baking soda and salt with fork in ungreased square pan, 8"8"2". Mix in remaining ingredients except chocolate chips. Sprinkle with chocolate chips. Bake 35 to 40 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Makes 9 servings.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Chapter One

The hunter had returned. Decompressing, he called the time he needed alone after coming home from an assignment. But Olivia knew it went deeper. He was trying to shake off the mind-set of the man he’d hunted for the past month. He’d told her once it was like spending time in a sewer and he didn’t want to poison her with the stench.

Was it wrong of her to want him to share his world?

She descended the stone stairs that led to the basement of their mountaintop home and the room she referred to as Sebastian’s “cave.” She’d called it so affectionately at first. Now there was a trace of resentment that left a bitter taste at the back of her throat. At the door she hesitated.

Bent over his paperwork, he was surrounded by all sorts of electronic gadgets that could have come from a science fiction movie set. His mind was focused, laser-sharp on his task. The lean muscles of his tracker’s body were controlled. She’d seen this stance often enough to recognize he was detaching himself from one world and trying to reconnect with another. Why did that passage make her so sad?

She’d lived with him for ten years. She knew everything about him. The way he brushed his teeth. The way he peppered his corn. The way he checked the oil in her car before he left on assignment. But she didn’t know his heart. After all these years, he still kept it to himself, its contents as secret as his operations.

He loved her. She had no doubt about that. But she wanted it all—the bad and the good. Not just the castle in the air he’d provided for her. To keep her safe, he’d said. But here in the rarified air she didn’t know what she was capable of. And the longing for flight—for something more—grew every day. Especially when he was gone, and she was left alone with her thoughts.

Her heart—always so open—had lately closed a little. She found herself keeping things from him—thoughts she knew would upset him, musings he would take the wrong way, feelings he wouldn’t understand. She didn’t like that extra barrier between them, didn’t like the way they were growing apart. Her fault. Sebastian hadn’t changed. He was the same driven man she’d met at one of her father’s business functions eleven years ago. She was the one with the curl of anxiety gnawing at her.

She loved him. She always would. Just watching him and all his intense self-assurance made her soul sing like nothing else could. But where was the answering melody? She’d signed on for a duet and lately had become aware she was singing a solo.

He looked up from his work and smiled. The brightness of it caught her breath just as it had the first time. One touch. That was all it would take to evaporate her resolve. She slid her gaze from his. If she looked into his eyes, she would stay and she needed to go.

“I’m almost done,” he said, turning back to his work.

She hugged herself and leaned against the door frame. “Take your time. I just wanted to say good-night.”

He glanced at his watch and frowned. “So early?”

“I’m leaving, Sebastian.” The hard thud of her heart nearly drowned out her words.

“Leaving? I don’t understand.”

No, he wouldn’t. He could see through the eyes of evil, but the working of his own wife’s mind was alien. “I’m going to my sister’s for a while.” As much as Paula wanted her to leave Sebastian, she would not approve of her plan, either.

“I just got home.”

“I know. I waited for you.” And that, she realized, had been a mistake. She should have taken the coward’s way out and left while he was gone. “I didn’t want you coming home to a note.”

After all the years they’d shared, she’d owed him that much. She’d thought hearing of her departure from her would hurt less than words scribbled on paper. She hadn’t counted on seeing the ridges of fatigue drooping the corners of his eyes and bracketing his mouth. She hadn’t known the pain in his eyes would arrow straight to her gut. And in the past month, she’d talked herself out of the power of his magnetism.

“I’ve missed you,” he said. “Can’t this wait?”

“No, I…” She knitted her fingers and breathed in courage. “I need to get away for a bit.” She needed to prove to him she could fit in his world, and she thought the course in criminal justice at the community college in Nashua would give her a start—a point from which to connect. But if she told him, he would talk her out of it. Where would that leave them? Right where they were, and she couldn’t go on like this.

He closed his eyes and blew out a huff of frustration. “Olivia, I’m tired. Can’t we talk this over in the morning?”

By morning, she’d have melted into him and it would be too late. “No, I need to do this.”

He went predator-still. Never a good sign. “This isn’t just a vacation.” His dark gaze bored into her, making her feel caught in a trap. Was that how his prey felt when he closed in on them? “You’re leaving me.”

She shifted to the outside of the door frame. “I’m not leaving you.” How could she explain? How could she make him understand? “I’m going to myself, not away from you.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” He gave her a puzzled look and rose from his black ergonomic office chair. He took one slow step. She had to hurry while she still could.

Looking down at her hands so primly knotted in front of her, she licked her dry lips and focused on her goal. Everything else she’d tried to dissolve the barrier between them had failed. “You’re a contained man, Sebastian, and I need to spill over. For a little while. Until I figure out where you end and where I start.”

“I don’t understand.” The pain slashing his features twisted inside her. He took another step forward. Though she wanted to flee, she held her ground.

“I’ve known you since I was seventeen. We were married when I was eighteen. You have five years on me. You knew what you wanted out of life. This.” She arched her arm to encompass not only the room, but all of the house. “You. It’s all I’ve known for the past ten years.”

“I thought you loved the house.” Another step. She stiffened.

“I do.” She’d helped design it herself. The way the light played with the shadows, the way it fit snugly into the rocky New Hampshire landscape as if it belonged, the way each room was a restful den, made it a home, not merely a house. “It’s not the house.”

“The village then.” His gun hand flexed. He wouldn’t let her go. “You feel isolated.”

“No, it’s not Wintergreen.” How could she resent a place where everyone knew her and treated her like a friend? If she wanted a taste of the city, Keene, Nashua, Manchester weren’t that far. Even Boston was only a few hours away. She straightened against the stone wall and hugged herself tighter.

He stopped, let his head drop to his chest, then blazed her with a look of such sadness she nearly closed the distance between them to comfort him. “I’m sorry I can’t give you the baby you want.”

That was a tiny bit closer to the truth. Without that common goal, the wall between them seemed to get thicker. But a baby wouldn’t fix the hollowness growing inside her. Until Sebastian trusted her with all of himself, a baby would only complicate the situation. “It’s not the baby.”

He took another step. They stood close enough for breath to mix with breath. He knew her weakness and was going to use it against her. “Then what is it, Olivia?” The reverberation of his voice was cat smooth and cougar dangerous. “Help me out here. I don’t understand.”

Then she made her second mistake. She touched him. Just a whisper of finger against the roughness of his beard. The heat of it shivered through her. The want, the need. His. Hers. “It’s the waiting and the worrying. It’s killing me.”

“It’s my job.”

“I know.” And she did. She understood how his parents’ murder at the hands of an escaped convict had driven him into the U.S. Marshals Service. She understood his need to hunt criminals and put them back in jail where they couldn’t hurt anyone but themselves. She understood his need to leave her for long periods of time to do his work. He was the best manhunter in the Service, and his duty to the Service always came first.

And that simple little jealousy made her feel petty. How could she ask him to stay when what he did was so important? Why did he insist on shutting her out of the most important part of his life?

“But I want to share it.”

He frowned. “We’ve been through this before.”

“I know.” And gotten nowhere. She wanted him in her life, of that she was sure. But she needed the balance to shift. She didn’t want to simply be his haven. She wanted to be his partner. This course was the first concrete step to that partnership. “You’re so strong. And I’m…” She shook her head. “I need to find my strength.”

“You are my strength, Olivia. Don’t leave. Not tonight.”

He reached for her, eyes bright with that potent mixture of desire and danger that never failed to arouse her, and a small helpless cry escaped her. No, don’t touch me. I’ll give in. She could feel her body responding to his before he’d even finished wrapping his arms around her. He held her tight. She tried to push him back, but when it came to Sebastian, she was weak.

He was passionate about everything he did. And that passion, she was loathe to admit, was part of her attraction to him. The aura of intensity around him acted as an aphrodisiac for someone unsure of her place in the world. The bad-boy looks on a man who hunted for justice had made her believe that, at his side, she could find herself. And each time he touched her, she believed it again—until he left.

His chin snuggled against the top of her head. The strong beat of his heart drummed beneath her hands. His heat seemed to fuse her to him. She could start a day late. She could leave tomorrow—after this storm of return. Maybe he’d understand then. Maybe she could tell him that her need to leave was like his need to decompress before he came to her when he returned from a hunt. Something that was temporary, but necessary.

“I love you, Olivia.”

“I know.” And the slow melting started. It shimmered from her heart towards her limbs and left her limp. She twined her arms around his neck to hold herself up and accepted the brand of his kiss. The searing heat of it, the desperate need in it, erased the boundaries between them. The savage taste of him filled her. The scent of him, so primal, so Sebastian, dissolved her will. She could feel herself slipping away, and her desire suddenly tasted salty with tears. “Let me go, Sebastian. For a little while.”

“Stay. I’ll take some time off. We’ll go away somewhere together. No beeper. No phone. No computer. I promise.”

“Until the next prisoner escapes.”

He opened his mouth to answer. She covered his lips with a finger. He took the offending digit into his mouth and gently sucked.

“It’s not you.” As his hands slid up her sides, she tried to catch her breath and put some space between them and found her hands mirroring his, seeking the firm skin beneath his shirt. “It’s me. I need…”

“What?” His thumb skimmed a nipple, drawing a gasp from her.

“Sebastian…”

As he continued his exquisite torture of her flesh with his hands, his mouth found the tender spot behind her ear, clouding her mind. “What do you need?”

“More. I need more.” She crushed herself against him to gain focus, only to lose it again when his fingers rounded her waist and stroked the sensitive hollow at the base of her spine. “Let me go, Sebastian.”

The sudden stillness in him was more frightening than the seduction she couldn’t resist. But before he could say anything, the beeper on his desk shrilled.

“Answer it,” she said, as the invisible web making them one separated strand by strand. “You know you have to.” When they stood apart, an aching cold made her shiver. Why had she done this? Why had she hurt him? Why was she risking the love of the one person who made her feel secure?

Because the next time that phone rang, she wanted him to talk to her about the coming hunt and not shut her out. She wanted him to know she truly understood his job, him.

He stalked to the phone and ripped the receiver off the cradle. Punching in numbers, he stared pointedly at her. She memorized the lines of his face—the sharp jaw, the thin nose, the full lower lip, the cleft in his chin, the upside-down V his work had creased between his eyes, the dark shadow of beard that he could never quite seem to get rid of no matter how often he shaved, the clean cut of his straight black hair. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. She licked her lips and imprinted his taste.

“Falconer,” he barked into the phone.

She opened her eyes, blinked as if taking a last picture, then turned toward the steps. She wanted to stay. She had to go. Her heart suddenly weighed heavily with the contradiction of her needs.

“Olivia! Wait.”

But she couldn’t. She was leaving because she’d nearly lost herself in him again. When she was stronger, when she was his equal, when she could stand solidly beside him without forgetting herself…then she’d return.

“HOLD FOR MR. SUTTON,” the voice on the other end of the line ordered in a clipped voice.

Sebastian put a hand over the speaker and called, “Olivia!”

But she wasn’t waiting. She was running up those stone steps as if the devil were on her heels.

Maybe he was. In the past year, he’d felt himself grow colder, harder. Had his work seeped into his home life? Olivia was so sensitive that his dark moods were bound to frighten her. Decompressing took longer and longer. Would he one day get stuck in the mind of the scum he chased?

Tethered to the phone and his boss, Sebastian watched helplessly as the ten best years of his life walked out the door. Maybe if he’d been able to give her the child she so desperately wanted. But no, he realized, the slowly widening rift between them went deeper than that. Something had been bothering Olivia for months now, and he’d gone against his habit of facing unpleasant things head-on and chosen to believe the closeting he saw in her eyes was temporary. Winter blues. She had them every year. Should he have suggested adoption? Would that have calmed the sadness in the summer sky of her eyes? A vacation. They needed a vacation. Somewhere sunny.

He strained the length of the telephone cord. “Olivia!”

She wasn’t really leaving. She couldn’t. He needed her. Did she know he watched her sleep? That he took comfort in the slow rise of her chest, in her simply being there, alive, beside him? That she was the reason he could keep doing what he had to do and still stay sane?

Finding her was always his first objective when an assignment was over. Getting back to Olivia. The beat of that need pulsed in him from the second he ratcheted cuffs on a fugitive. And then, when the long ride home was finally over and he saw her, alive and breathing, he could let the tension slip, let his breath out, let his heart feel again. With the first hug came a silent prayer of thankfulness. She was safe. He was home. And for now the world was right.

But not tonight. Tonight the mountain smoked from the unseasonable sweat of the day. Every year in February, winter seemed to grow weary of blowing blue and mean. For a day or two, it teased New Englanders with the false hope of spring. Temperatures rose. The sun blazed. Snow melted. And that brief flirting with spring seemed to have the same effect as a full moon, making everyone a little crazy.

Cabin fever. That was it. She’d be back. He’d give her a day, then he’d show up at Paula’s and take Olivia home where she belonged. Better still, he’d take her for that long-promised vacation and they would talk—really talk.

“Falconer,” Edwin Sutton barked into the phone. Sutton was the executive in charge of a thirty-man, seven-state, ongoing Fugitive Investigative Strike Team covering the northeast. He liked for operations to run smooth, for the felon arrest numbers to run high, and he liked to play those successes to the press. With no wife, no kids, not even a dog, the Service was his life and ambitious couldn’t even begin to describe him. “Head for Connecticut. We just lost two of our men.”

A personnel loss wouldn’t look good on Sutton’s scorecard. He’d want closure and fast. “Who?”

“Sean Greco and Robert Carmichael. They were on transport. There was a fire. Two prisoners are dead. Three escaped. Somehow they cornered Greco and Carmichael outside the building, had them drive getaway, and cut the hell out of them under an overpass on I-95. This is going to get us blowback. I want it contained, and fast.”

Bad PR would tarnish Sutton’s record. With D.C. his next planned step up the ladder, he had to keep the stain from spreading. “Any leads?”

“We’re working on IDing the three pukes on the run. Two more turned to toast in the fire. We gotta sort them out. I want you on this full time till they’re back in their pen. And Falconer, the Feebs are involved. Crossed state lines and all that bull.”