Hunter's Moon (2 page)

“I’ve put you in danger.” She frowned this time, her

eyes opening a little and her lips compressing as she

braced herself. She must have been in agony.

“The hunters? Did they do this to you? Did they…” he trailed off, not able to bring himself to mention the nude state she’d been in on his porch for fear that his

thoughts would get stuck on the image of her that had

been seared into his mind.

He shifted into a more comfortable position, cursing his body for responding to the memory of what she’d looked like naked.

“In a way,” she said in a breathless voice.

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Opening the box when she started shivering, he took out everything he could think of that might patch up the

wound on her thigh and then realised that he hadn’t

even got a good look at it. In his hurry to get her into his cabin and out of the bad weather, he’d not thought about how serious the injury could be. She could need a doctor and he’d been dilly-dallying and getting lost in his thoughts.

“It’s of no concern to me. I don’t need to know why

you’re naked or why they shot you—” He started but she cut him off.

“You wouldn’t believe me,” she said and her face

screwed up in pain when she moved, pushing herself up

into a sitting position.

“I don’t need to know your name,” he continued as

though she hadn’t even spoken, his focus wholly on

peeling the fur blanket back to reveal the wound on her left thigh.

“It’s Neoma,” she said.

His fingers paused, brushing against her thigh, and he stared straight into the golden eyes that were looking right into his. His heart accelerated, his breathing

following it, and his fingers tingled where they were

touching her.

“I’m—”

“I know who you are, Scott Hudson.” She smiled and

then cringed.

He shook his head to clear it and break the invisible

bond that was stopping him from looking away. Forcing

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his eyes back down, he inspected the wound on her

thigh, all the while trying not to let the feeling of her soft skin under the pads of his fingers affect him. She was pale, and he didn’t know whether it was loss of blood

causing it or whether she was always like this. How the hell did she know him?

“This doesn’t look too bad,” he said, more to himself

than to her. She didn’t seem very frightened for

someone who had just been shot and was sitting in front of a stranger while wearing nothing more than a blanket.

Maybe it was shock or adrenaline making her like this. It was the only explanation he could think of for how calm she was.

Taking out some antiseptic, he poured a little onto some cotton wool and dabbed it against the wound. She

whimpered when it touched her and he couldn’t help

thinking that she’d sounded like a kicked dog. Glancing up at her, he found himself trapped in her gaze again

and battled to get free of it. He had to keep his focus.

This whole night was turning out crazy. Maybe he was

still asleep and this was all some vivid fantasy.

He pinched himself on the arm.

It stung like a bitch but he didn’t wake up.

Nope, it was definitely real.

A part of him wanted to talk to her so his mind would be occupied with something other than the subtle curves of her left leg. The wound was nothing more than a long,

deep graze now that he’d cleared away all of the blood.

He checked it thoroughly, making sure that there was no dirt in the cut and that it wasn’t bleeding profusely. With the weather closing in, there was no way he could get

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her down the mountain. The road would probably be

blocked by now. Something inside said that he’d have to try regardless of how pointless the attempt would be.

Taking the bandage out of the box, he placed a strip of padding against the wound and then took a deep breath.

He stared at her thigh, mesmerised by it. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d touched a woman’s thigh, but there was something about her that made it hard to control

himself. She was so mysterious, so beautiful. And it had been a hell of a long time since he’d been this close to a woman.

He cleared his throat and then unceremoniously pressed the start of the bandage against her thigh. She inhaled sharply through her teeth and he mentally apologised to her for being so rough. Lightening his touch, he carefully drew the bandage around, accidentally brushing his

fingers against the inside of her thigh at the same time.

He bit his tongue, stopping himself from giving in to the desire that was beginning to burn like an inferno in his veins. Every time his fingers brushed against her, she would breath in a little, adding to the thrill he got from touching her. This was wrong. He didn’t even know the

woman and she was making him feel like he hadn’t felt

in a long time. It had been too long since he’d had these feelings, these desires. He tied off the end of the

bandage and ran his fingers over it, smoothing it and

making the most of the excuse to touch her and feel her tensing beneath his fingertips.

When he removed his hand and raised his eyes up to

hers. Her pupils were wide and her cheeks were flushed.

God, she was beautiful.

Neoma caught hold of his hand and smiled at him,

hoping to alleviate the flicker of fear that had surfaced in 10

Hunter’s Moon – Felicity Heaton

his grey eyes. She wanted to thank him but the

overwhelming weight of anxiousness in her stomach

made different words leave her lips.

“I’ve placed you in danger. I shouldn’t have come,” she said and went to stand.

He took his hand away from hers and pressed it against her shoulder, forcing her to sit again.

“You’re not going anywhere in this weather. You’d never make it back down into town alone.”

There was such a sweet note of concern in his voice and his expression. She tensed her thigh, testing it. Pain raced along every nerve but it was less now than when it had first happened. She could easily make it back to her home. She turned her face towards the door and sniffed.

He was right about the weather though. The cold would

slow her down and make her vulnerable to the hunters

again.

“Have we met?” he said and she watched his fingers

while he poured a large glass of whisky. “I think I’d

remember you.”

He held it out to her. She looked at it for a moment and then took it, sipping it so he would stop staring at her.

She’d had to fight for control every second that he’d

been fixing her wound. His proximity and touch had

made her soul stir into life and only the pain had

stopped her from reacting as she’d wanted to.

Wind blew down the chimney, making the fire crackle

and pop. Her eyes moved to it, following the sweeping

motion of the flames.

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She smiled across at him when he sat in the armchair, a glass of whisky in his hand. His hair was darker than

she’d expected, and she’d always pictured him wearing a checked lumberjack shirt under his jacket rather than

the padded navy one he was wearing now. His pale blue

jeans looked faded and old. She wondered how often he

went down into town. Living up here could get lonely.

She rarely ventured down into the settlement. Only at

night had she found the bravery to wander the streets

there.

She was at home on the mountain, running through the

trees after her prey and watching him.

“We’ve met,” she said, her smile remaining in place.

“We have?” he frowned.

She decided he was handsome when he did that.

“At a party, or in town?” he ventured and she shook her head.

“Up here, on the mountain.” She sipped her drink again, letting the heat of it warm her through and sedate her, quenching the nerves that were spiralling out of control inside of her. She swallowed a whole mouthful and then took a deep breath, wondering how he was going to

react to what she was going to say.

His eyes widened and he leaned forwards, a curious but confused look quickly settling on his face.

“But there’s no cabin for miles and I really don’t

remember ever meeting someone on the mountain,” he

said.

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“My home isn’t that far,” she said and tugged the fur

blanket up when it began to slip away from her shoulders. She noticed how his eyes followed it, the grey of them becoming stormy while they roamed over her bare shoulders and chest. “You stopped hunting, why?”

He dropped his gaze to the floor and frowned again.

Maybe she was asking too many questions. She was

surprised he was letting her sit here like this without making her explain how she came to be laying on his

porch naked with a gunshot wound. If she were him, she would have demanded answers.

“How do you know all this?”

She smiled at his question. It was about time he asked that.

“I’ve watched you,” she said and shifted on the seat so her feet were on the floor. She didn’t bother covering her legs again. He’d already seen her buck-naked and

she’d wanted that for so many years now that she

needed to make the most of the feeling of his heated

gaze roaming her body. “I used to watch you hunt at

night. I’m a hunter too. I love the dark. It makes

everything seem so
wild
.”

He swallowed hard.

Scott cleared his throat and gulped another mouthful of whisky, hoping to calm himself but only adding to the

wildfire spreading through his body. Was she trying to get him like this? Her eyes were full of intent and her body language was speaking words straight to his libido.

He wished she’d given him a straight answer about how

she knew him. Had she really watched him at night? She would have had to be close to him to even make him

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out. The night up here was pitch black unless there was a full moon.

Full moon. He got stuck on those words. The hunter’s

moon was tonight. Did she only hunt during a full moon?

Was that why she was out there?

Another gunshot echoed around the mountain and he

snapped his head up when she jumped to her feet. He

watched her turning on the spot as though she was

trying to make out the direction it had come from and

stood up. Catching hold of her shoulders, he was

stunned when she curled up against him, her silvery hair brushing softly against his neck while her cheek pressed against his chest. He could feel her fingers on his chest.

He managed to keep control for all of a second before he gave into his desire to wrap his arms around her and

hold her.

“It’s okay, I won’t let them find you,” he whispered into her hair. She was trembling against him and he idly

stroked the fur blanket she was wearing. It was the only way to stop himself from stroking her hair.

She drew back, her eyes round and wide when she

looked up at him. She was so close. He inhaled the scent of her. It was a fresh smell that reminded him of crisp snow and meadow flowers. His eyes locked with hers.

Her palms were pressed against his chest and he was

sure she’d be able to feel how fast his heart was

pounding because of her. Her lips were unbearably close to his and she had a look in her eyes that begged him to kiss her. He let go of her, telling himself that he was imagining it. His feelings were running away with him

and making him see those things.

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She opened her mouth to say something but he shook

his head, able to see in her eyes what she was going to tell him.

“I told you, I don’t need to know.”

“It isn’t what you think,” she said and there was a hint of panic in her eyes.

Was she worried what he was thinking of her? He stared deep into the golden pools and searched them,

desperate to see what she was trying to tell him and

then stopping when he saw the edge of fear that filled them. She looked like she was scared to tell him, so why did she want to?

He decided to make it easy on her.

“If you don’t tell me, it’ll be easier for me to tell them you’re not here when they come looking for you,” he

said.

“They won’t come looking for me.” She took a step

towards him, closing the gap between them again. “They don’t know who I am.”

“You seem to know everyone but no one knows you.” He

held her gaze when she smiled, her soft pink lips calling to him and trying to lure his eyes down to them. He

wouldn’t look. He was made of stronger stuff than this.

She was probably reacting on instinct and that had been shaken by wound she’d suffered. He’d helped her and it was confused gratitude that was making her act this

way. To kiss her would be a lie. A girl like her would never want a guy like him, not when she found out the

reason he was here. She’d think he was crazy like the

rest of them did. Like she had. Bitterness filled his heart, 15

Hunter’s Moon – Felicity Heaton

tainting his feelings and making him want to walk away from Neoma, but he couldn’t.

She had him captivated again the moment he came out

of his thoughts and found himself staring into her eyes still.

“I should take you to the docs,” he said but the words were empty, just an excuse to say something in the

hopes of breaking the spell she’d placed on him the

moment she’d come crashing into his life.

She shook her head and her eyes widened.