Amber Eyes (Amber Eyes #1)(22)

The door was closed, an unwelcoming barrier to intruders. Much like the wall he erected every time he caught himself relaxing around her.

He was a loner, like her. Something about him called to her. Even though she knew he didn’t much like her—or the fact that he was drawn to her.

Carefully she opened the door and slipped inside. Pale moonlight shone through the window and bathed his face. Even in sleep, there was a seriousness, a closed-off expression that told Kaya how carefully he guarded himself from others.

For a long moment she stood over him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. She was so tempted to reach out and smooth the lines on his face, to ease the strain she saw around his eyes. He wouldn’t appreciate her tenderness any more than he wanted to be tender with her. And yet he was.

Finally she walked around to the other side and quietly slipped into the bed. She wanted nothing more than to curl up with him as she had done with Jericho, but she didn’t want to chance waking him and having him toss her out.

She frowned. No, he wouldn’t do that, but he would withdraw. He might even get up himself so he could put distance between them. Or he might hold her as he’d done on the couch. There was no way to know how he’d react from one moment to the next, and she only wanted a few moments to absorb his heat and scent.

She settled far enough away from him that she wasn’t touching him and pulled the covers to her chin. The warm blankets settled over her broken arm, irritating the sensitive skin. She twitched uncomfortably until finally she loosened her hold on the covers to allow them to slip from her arm.

Instantly, the cold skittered over her flesh and pulled goose bumps into a haphazard pattern. She closed her eyes and mentally reached for Hunter’s warmth just inches away. She imagined lying flush against him.

Soon the chill slipped away, replaced by the soothing comfort of her imagination.

***

Hunter woke to the knowledge that he wasn’t alone. He turned his head to see Kaya huddled a short distance away, her body shivering in the cold.

Emitting a soft curse he rolled, pulling the covers with him so he could cover her with the blankets. She moaned softly when the sheet brushed across her arm, so he tucked the blanket carefully underneath it but swaddled the rest of her in the soft warmth.

For a long moment, he lay there, just two inches from touching her. Her gold-burnished skin glistened in the soft rays of sunshine that poured through his window, and her hair, soft brown caramel, spilled over his pillow, tickling the underside of his arm.

He’d forgotten what it was like to wake with a woman in his bed. Forgotten the contentment of knowing he wasn’t alone, but he’d also managed to avoid the pain that accompanied loss.

Hell of a trade-off.

Finally he reached for her face, tracing the delicate curve of her cheek before cupping her jaw. She turned toward him, seeking his touch, her eyes never opening. She was so starved for affection. He could only imagine how lonely her life must be. What had made her trust him and Jericho when it was clear she’d avoided people her entire life?

How long could he continue to pull her close and then shove her away? He’d already admitted he wanted her. Hell, he and Jericho had had a positively civilized discussion, like she was some object to be bartered. For all he knew she didn’t even look at him and see a man she wanted to be with.

She kissed as sweet and as hot as any woman he’d ever been with, but there was an innocence about her that made him question just how aware she was of her sexuality.

And he’d be a damned liar if he denied that he wanted to be the one to awaken her, to stir the flames higher and brighter, to show her just how it would be between them. Then there was Jericho.

With a heavy sigh, he rolled away to stare up at the ceiling. Jericho presented a complication. Not that he hadn’t shared a woman with his friend before. They’d both loved Rebeccah, and they’d both lost her. He’d never said as much to Jericho, but he hadn’t been convinced that they wouldn’t have lost her anyway if she hadn’t died. She hadn’t trusted the bond between the three of them, hadn’t believed that they could love her and not destroy each other in the process. Part of him couldn’t blame her, and the other part resented that she had given her heart but not her trust. Because of that, Hunter had vowed never to get into another situation where he and Jericho were both involved with the same woman. And yet Kaya had burst into their lives and both men were drawn to her. It wasn’t as easy as just deciding to back away. He knew he should, but like Jericho, he had no intention of stepping aside.

“Hunter?”

Her sleepy voice melted over him, eliciting a tenderness that he’d sworn was alien to him now. He turned to face her, watching her eyes for evidence of pain. All he saw was wariness as she watched him. Was she afraid of him?

It was a stupid question. After the way he’d acted the night before, pushing her away as soon as she’d revealed her secret, she probably had no idea what he was thinking or how he felt.

“Are you hurting?”

There was strain around her lips, and then she licked them, parting them as her husky voice slid over his ears. “Yes, but it will get better. Already I’m healing.”

He reached out to run a finger over the broken arm. The bruising had already faded, and the swelling had gone down remarkably.

“Why did you come in here?”

As soon as the question was out, vulnerability flashed in her eyes. He could see her withdrawing as she braced herself for his rejection. He wanted to reassure her, apologize for the brash way he’d blurted out the question, but he was genuinely curious as to why she’d left Jericho’s bed to come to him.