Free Undercover Texas by Robin Perini

Despite her shyness, this woman’s sensual nature begged for his touch.
    With a gentle hand, he stroked her cheek. “You are one intriguing woman, Dr. Jamison. Meet back here? Tonight? Six o’clock?”
    She twisted the fabric of her wrap and folded it across her body. “I’d like that, Clay.” With a slight smile she turned and wandered down the beach, every few feet staring back at him.
    My name is Hunter.
    He wanted to shout the truth, but he couldn’t. She could never know.
    Hunter watched the sway of her hips as she disappeared behind an outcropping of volcanic rocks.
    With a sigh, he returned to his bungalow. He shouldn’t go tonight. Her eyes were honest, guileless. He was a man of lies, and he’d made a career of them.
    But he’d be right here fifteen minutes early tonight, just as surely as he’d known the moment he’d taken his oath as a member of the armed forces that he’d finally found a place to belong.
    He sighed, rubbing the bandage on his side. He would heal. And he would return to the team that had become his family, and try to redeem the loss of Kent Miller’s son.
    The surf lapped at the black sand, then melted away.
    The sea transformed into a small room.
    Hands pushed at his side, rolling him one way, then another. Someone tugged at wet material sticking to him.
    His back screamed in agony.
    No. He wanted Erin. He didn’t want to let her go. Not again.
    He twisted away from cloying hands. Erin was gentle. She would never hurt him. He was the one who’d hurt her.
    “Clay!” A hand shook him. “Clay, can you hear me?”
    He hated that name. He wanted only one thing before he left Erin. He wanted to hear her whisper his real name before the dream faded away—as they always did.
    “No. My name is Hunter. Not Clay.”

Chapter Four
    Stabs of pain peppered Hunter’s neck and shoulders, dragging him out of the dream. Not a dream. A memory.
    And one that was long gone and could never be again.
    The mattress shifted.
    Hunter rolled to his side and forced his eyes open. Erin stood only a few feet away from him, holding Brandon, disbelief and hurt painted on her face.
    “You lied about your name, too?” The accusing voice made him wince. “Just who are you, Clay, aka Hunter? ”
    He froze. The fog around his mind lifted. She hadn’t said, she couldn’t have said—
    Oh, man, she knew his name. What else had he revealed? He’d been trained never to disclose important information. He’d faced guns and knives, swords and fists, and he’d never whispered his true identity. To anyone.
    He groaned. “Can you forget I said that?” he asked.
    “Was anything you told me the truth? Not that you said much. Whenever I asked you a question...” Her voice trailed off and her cheeks flushed.
    Hunter knew exactly what she was thinking. The moment was etched into his brain. He’d had more than one dream about it. She’d asked him about his job, and how often he’d traveled. He hadn’t wanted to lie—an unfamiliar urge—so he’d done the next best thing. He’d kissed her. The first time, her cheek. The second time, her lips. The third time...he’d started at the arch of her foot and worked his way up, not missing an inch of skin.
    They hadn’t talked again for a long, long time.
    How could he answer her? Wasn’t it better for her to hate him? Wouldn’t it make the next steps that much easier for both of them?
    “Sometimes the truth isn’t an option.”
    He sat up and grimaced. Man, his back hurt.
    Erin and the baby blocked his path. “Oh, no, you don’t. I said I’d look at your back and I will. As much as I want to kill you, I don’t want your death on my hands.”
    He had to know the extent of the injury. Every movement of his shoulder blade burned like fire. He needed her help, even if she’d prefer to leave him to rot. If his injury got her mind off his name... “There’re some basic supplies in that first-aid kit,” he said, his voice cautious. “Next to the