Morgan's Hunter Page 7

  After that, Hunter checked his seatbelt—several times—waiting for their exit.

  Morgan took the right turn for the small parking lot that lead to the remote ranger’s lodge and pulled into a spot.

  When they both got out, Hunter looked up to the sky, outstretched his arms. “I’m alive! I’m alive!”

  A reluctant smile tugged at Morgan’s mouth as she turned, walking to the back of the car. “Very funny, Bodyguard Phillips.”

  “There’s absolutely nothing funny about your driving, Morgan. Nothing.” He joined her, pulling the large suitcase from the trunk.

  “So I’ve been told. My team teased me often.” She hoisted her pack, put the strap of her laptop case on her shoulder, grabbed her carry-on and started toward the trail.

  “Didn’t you forget something?” Hunter looked down at the enormous suitcase at his feet.

  Morgan glanced at the piece of luggage, then at him, smiled. “Nope, don’t think so.” She started through the trees, disappearing from his sight.

  He was tempted to leave it, but on a sigh, hoisted the suitcase and followed.

  Thick vegetation surrounded the path as they made their way up the half-mile trail to the station. Fresh pine filled the crisp mountain air.

  At the halfway point, Morgan stopped to pull off her sweatshirt, exposing a quick glimpse of smooth flesh before her pale green t-shirt fell against her blue jeans. “It’s getting warm. I think we’re almost there.”

  “Well, that’s super.” Hunter dropped the suitcase that weighed more than she did, flexed his cramping fingers. “When we leave this place again, you’ll be carrying your own damn luggage.”

  “Think of it this way: you’re also carrying half of your luggage. Since you didn’t trouble yourself to bring half the items necessary for our backcountry outing, I brought them for you. Wasn’t that nice of me?” She picked up her belongings, flashed him a grin that wasn’t entirely friendly before continuing along.

  “I brought everything I need.”

  “Yeah, if you’re Crocodile Dundee. You can thank me later when you and your sleeping bag have a mattress pad to rest on.”

  “And who gets to carry all of this when we start hiking? It sure as hell isn’t going to be me. I told you before, I’m not your servant.”

  That stopped her in her tracks. Whirling around, she moved forward until they were toe to toe.

  He tortured himself by breathing her in.

  “Listen to me, you jerk. I don’t have servants. I can take care of myself. The only reason you’re here is because I couldn’t find a way around it. Believe me, I tried.” With a withering glare, she left him behind.

  Minutes later, the small path steepened, the tree line thinned, growing rockier with every step. They came to a clearing where the dark brown cabin sat nestled among a grouping of tall pine trees.

  “Not exactly the Hilton,” Hunter said, scanning his surroundings. The square one story building wasn’t any larger than a small summer cottage. A large picture window trimmed in white occupied most of the left wall next to the front door. Smaller windows winked in the sunshine at the side of the house.

  “This practically is the Hilton compared to what we’ll find in the wilderness. I thought you knew how to rough it.” Sneering, Morgan shook her head. “Let’s just remember you’re my associate when we meet the rangers who live here.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “Well, now there’s a change.”

  “Don’t get used to it.” Christ, she was a spitfire.

  Two men dressed in park service uniforms stepped from the front door. Hunter felt an itch between his shoulder blades as Morgan greeted them with a friendly smile.

  “Hello, I’m Morgan Taylor.” She offered her hand to the attractive baby-faced blond.

  “Hi, Ms. Taylor, I’m Miles Jones. We’re glad to have you with us.”

  The tall fifty-something next to Miles stepped forward, took her hand next. “Robert Hammand, Ms. Taylor. Welcome.”

  “Thank you.” Morgan flicked Hunter a glance when he didn’t make a move to introduce himself. “This is my associate, Hunter Phillips.”

  Hunter shook Robert’s outstretched hand, deciding on the spot he didn’t like something he saw in the man’s flint gray eyes. “Thanks for having us.”

  “We’re happy to.” Robert smiled.

  “You two found the bodies of Morgan’s team.” Hunter heard Morgan’s sharp intake of breath while he watched Robert and Miles, gauging reactions.

  Robert’s smile disappeared. “Yes, I’m afraid we did. A real tragedy.”

  “Not to mention random, don’t you think? You and Mr. Jones were the last to see them alive, right?”

  He watched the well-built twenty-something glance at Robert.

  “Please excuse my associate.” Morgan’s eyes widened, full of shocked warning as they stared into Hunter’s.

  “I’m trying to get everything straight,” Hunter said.

  Robert held Hunter’s gaze a moment longer. “Let’s show you two to your room.” He gave Morgan a friendly smile, turned to walk toward the station. “Your equipment arrived from the Bureau late last week, Ms. Taylor. We put the cases in storage.” He pointed to the brown building set back from the cabin.

  “Great, I’d like to do inventory at some point today.”

  “Sure, just ask me or Miles. We’ll open the shed for you.”

  Hunter followed Morgan and Robert into the tiny house. The scent of stale coffee mingled with pine as they walked into the wood paneled office making up the majority of the station. A short hallway sectioned the galley kitchen, two bedrooms and bathroom from the ranger’s official work area.

  “We’ll put you and Mr. Phillips in here,” Robert said to Morgan as he moved down the hall and stepped into the small bedroom.

  There was barely enough space for two bodies to stand, let alone three. Hunter peered in from the doorway. Two twin beds were crammed together. Someone would have to crawl over the first bed to get to the second. The room was no longer than the mattress. A small shelf had been nailed to the wall above the beds. An ugly dented metal lamp took residence in its center. They would be sharing the closet. The amenities didn’t include bureaus or chests of drawers. There simply wasn’t room.

  “Sorry about the accommodations, folks. This room is meant for one. Miles usually sleeps in here. We shoved this other bed in, but—” Robert shrugged. “It’s going to be pretty close quarters. I wish we had something else to offer. If this is too awkward—”

  “No, no, this is fine.” Morgan touched Robert’s arm. “We appreciate your hospitality.”

  “I’ll leave you to settle in and give you fair warning. The shower doesn’t always cooperate. Sometimes we have hot water, but it’s never guaranteed.”

  “Thank you, Robert.” Morgan smiled.

  Hunter stepped in when Robert left the room.

  Morgan closed the door, whirled around. “What is your problem? Why were you so rude?”

  “I wasn’t.” He dropped her suitcase on the scarred wooden floor with a thud.

  “Close enough. You didn’t go out of your way to be friendly, and the first words out of your mouth were practically an interrogation. We’re going to be living with these people for the better part of a month. That was completely unacceptable. I expect you to apologize.”

  “You do, do you? Well, I wouldn’t hold my breath on that one.” Hunter set his pack on the bed.

  With a deep sigh, Morgan closed her eyes, pressed her index finger and thumb against the bridge of her nose, pinching. “You’re impossible, absolutely impossible. I’m going out to inventory my equipment. I’ll put my stuff away after you’ve finished.”

  Hunter blocked her path with his body. “I want you to wait for me.”

  “Forget it.”

  He grabbed her arm as she tried to walk by. “Morgan, if you go to the shed, you stay put. Don’t wander off.”

  She gave him a “fuck you” scoff and stepped
from the room.

  “I mean it, Morgan,” he said as she walked down the hall and out the door without sparing him another glance.

  Her dark scent lingered. He clenched his jaw. If he’d ever met a bigger pain in his ass, they certainly weren’t coming to mind. Her stunning looks were equally matched by her ugly attitude. If this kept up, she wouldn’t have to worry about potential threats from others; he’d kill her himself.

  Miles headed toward a government-issued pickup when she stepped outside. The cloudless blue sky cheered her instantly. She fought to forget the insufferable man she’d left behind. Feeling friendly again, she called out, “Excuse me, Miles, could you unlock the shed? I would really like to get a look at my equipment before I use it this week.”

  “Sure, Ms. Taylor.” His brown eyes warmed as he smiled.

  “Please, call me Morgan.”

  “All right, Morgan, I’d be happy to open the shed.” He unlocked the padlock, walked away.

  “Miles?”

  He stopped, turned.

  “I want to apologize for Hunter’s rudeness. He can be pretty impossible.”

  He smiled again, shrugging slightly. “Don’t worry about it.” He walked to the truck, got in, drove down the narrow access road.

  Morgan entered the shed as the door slammed shut in the breeze. She pulled the string to the light. Dust danced around the bulb, making her cough. The storage shed was jammed full of tools, rope, shovels, and other items the rangers would use to aid them in their job. In the corner was her equipment.

  Before unlocking the two metal cases the Bureau had shipped, she walked to the door, opened it, found a rock to rest against the wood. Satisfied, she brushed her hands free of dirt and headed back to the cases. After a thorough inspection and run through her checklist, she noted that everything was present.

  Fresh air blew into the small, mildewed building. Morgan looked past the doorway to the tall pines in the distance. Birds twittered among the trees. She took the camera from one case, the tranquilizer gun from the other as the thought of a walk tempted her. Taking pictures would be so relaxing. If she was lucky she might get a few good shots of the local fauna.

  Hunter had told her to stay close, but she wouldn’t go far. Walking half a mile, maybe a mile down a trail wasn’t a big deal. She was taking precautions. She patted the gun tucked in the waist of her jeans. She would be back before he noticed, anyway.

  Morgan locked the case again, turned to leave and ran straight into Robert. “Oh, Robert, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were there.” She dropped her hand from her heart. “I was just heading out for a walk.”

  “No problem, Ms. Taylor. I apologize for scaring you.”

  “Not at all. Please, call me Morgan. Which path do you recommend? I’m looking for a little exercise.”

  “If you head down the southwest trail, you might spot a deer or two. It’s not particularly common this time of day, but you never know.”

  “I guess I’ll mosey down that way. I’ll be back soon.” She took two steps, stopped. “Robert, I want to apologize for my associate. We got off on the wrong foot.”

  “Don’t you worry yourself over that now. Losing close friends is upsetting.”

  Morgan was about to tell him they weren’t Hunter’s friends, but she stopped herself. “Yes, yes, it is. I’m going to be on my way. See you soon.”

  Twenty minutes later, Morgan sat in a clearing just off the path of the southwest trail. Her light jacket lay on the ground with the tranquilizer gun at her side. She breathed in clean, crisp air and relaxed as a hawk circled overhead, letting out a high-pitched screech. The mighty Rockies, snowcapped and gray in the distance, took her breath away. She’d needed this, the tranquility, the peace she hadn’t been able to find in the weeks since her friends’ deaths. She closed her eyes, let her mind clear, let her worry and guilt vanish, knowing it would all be back to haunt and weigh her down before long.

  Refreshed, Morgan opened her eyes, blinking against the sunshine. She caught sight of a mama mule deer and her two babies and grinned. She watched, delighted, as the mother grazed on the lush, green grasses while one of the calves suckled. Morgan laughed as the calf’s sibling moved in for his turn, despite his sister’s annoyed bleats and head butts.

  Enjoying the show, Morgan picked up her camera, focused on her shot, started taking pictures. She stood, walking farther into the clearing, looking for a new angle. She never heard him come up behind her.

  Hunter tossed his luggage in the closet, not bothering to unpack. There wasn’t any place to put his stuff anyway. He turned around, let out a deep sigh as he studied their sleeping arrangements again. The twin beds were so close they might as well have been a full-sized mattress. He and Morgan would more or less be sharing a bed for the next month.

  After he put the extra bullets for the Glock in the bottom of his pack, he headed out to see if Morgan finished her inventory. Maybe they could take a walk, relax, try to clear the air again. It was going to be a very long month if they couldn’t find a way to get along.

  He stood in the doorway of the station, zeroed in on the closed padlock on the shed door. Uneasy, he stepped outside, scanning the dirt parking lot and trees close to the cabin. Where was Morgan? He walked around the corner of the house. She wasn’t there. A small tingle of panic bloomed in his stomach as he hurried to the other side. She wasn’t there either. “Son of a bitch.” He rounded to the front again and spotted Robert. “Have you seen Morgan?”

  “Yeah, she said she wanted a walk. She headed down the southwest trail about ten, fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Goddamn it!” Hunter took off running.

  He ran the mile from the ranger’s station at a dead sprint, cursing her the entire way. The uneven dirt path was littered with sticks and rocks jutting from the ground, threatening to trip him with every hurried step. He should’ve come across her by now. Where the hell was she? What if something happened to her?

  When he broke through the tree line, Morgan stood in the valley with a camera in hand, a smile on her face. Relief swamped him before hot, ripe anger flooded his veins. He was going to teach her a lesson she wasn’t about to forget.

  Hunter never broke his stride as he caught her in a tackle and rolled with her to take the brunt of the impact. She let out a surprised gasp as his body careened into hers. The camera went flying. The deer ran away. When the momentum of the roll stopped, Hunter lay on top of her.

  She said nothing as he stared into her huge, green eyes.

  “What the hell is your problem? I told you not to go anywhere. So what do you do? You take off anyway.”

  “Get off of me,” she said quietly, still dazed. “You’re crushing me.”

  He didn’t move. “What am I going to do with you? You don’t listen to a goddamn thing I say. How can I do my job if you won’t fucking listen?”

  “So this is your solution, to tackle and crush me? I just went for a walk. I brought a weapon, and don’t you dare talk to me like that!”

  Hunter looked over at the gun, back again. If he wasn’t seeing wavy shades of red, he might’ve laughed. “Is that your weapon, the goddamn tranquilizer gun? Are you serious?”

  She shoved at his shoulder, raised her chin, answering him in her haughty tone that drove him insane. “Perfectly. Now get off.”

  Completely out of patience, he grabbed her wrists with one hand, pushed them over her head. Firm breasts pressed against his chest and he wanted her with a power so swift it took his breath, making him more furious. “Don’t you get it, Morgan? You’re completely defenseless right now. You didn’t even hear me come up behind you. How can you protect yourself with a tranquilizer gun or anything else for that matter when you’re so caught up in your pictures you don’t know someone’s coming? What if I wasn’t a nice guy? I could—”

  “You’re not,” she spat.

  “You’re right. I’m not. I think I’ll show you what happens to a woman who goes out in the middle of nowhere by herself.” H
e had to taste her.

  She went perfectly still when his mouth brushed hers, testing, teasing. Her eyes burned into his as he nipped her full bottom lip, tracing lightly with his tongue. Her breath turned ragged and her eyes flutter closed. Unable to do anything else, he crushed his mouth against hers.

  He let go of her wrists still trapped above her head, braced himself on his elbows, took her face in his hands, changing the angle of the kiss, deepening it, tasting her exotic flavor, tangling his tongue with hers.

  A hum of surrender purred in her throat while her hands found their way to his hair. Her fingers stroked the nape of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. He was losing his shaky grip of control.

  As abruptly as he initiated the kiss, he ended it. Hunter lifted his head, stared into eyes that had gone dark with passion. His heart hammered against hers and he pushed himself up to standing.

  Morgan lay on the ground, looking up at him.

  He turned away, staring hard at the trees in the distance. “If you ever take off on me again, I swear I’ll handcuff you to my goddamn wrist. Get your stuff and let’s go. Hopefully I’ve made my point very memorable and very clear.”

  “Bastard,” Morgan hissed as she got to her feet. She stormed passed him, grabbed her tranquilizer gun, broken camera and other belongings, and started up the trail.

  Hunter’s heart still pounded as she walked away. He scrubbed unsteady hands over his face, let out a deep breath. Her dark flavor lingered on his tongue.

  He’d meant to prove a point and got a hell of a lot more than he’d bargained for. Flickers of something long dead had come to life when he’d lost himself in her.

  He hadn’t realized he gave a damn until she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. She made him…feel. He didn’t want to feel anything for Morgan Taylor—didn’t want the responsibility of being in charge of anyone’s life he cared for ever again.