Free Heart of the Hunter by Bj James

would have checked to see who was calling. Thanks to an empty stomach and two glasses of wine drunk faster than usual, she didn’t trouble herself with the effort.
    The door banged against the wall as she flung it open with obvious irritation. “Yes?” she hissed then blinked. “Jeb?”
    â€œYep.” He lounged against the wall, laughing down at her. Her shirt dangled from a crooked finger. “Always turning up, like the proverbial penny.”
    â€œWhat penny?” The gaze she turned to his was vague and slightly unfocused.
    â€œUh-oh.” He drew away from the wall, and at his full height towered over her. “Bad day?”
    â€œYou could say that, considering the way that it started.”
    â€œFunny, I sorta liked the way it started.”
    â€œYou’re making fun.” She squinted up at him. “Are you making fun? You promised you wouldn’t. Never, never make fun. Fun hurts.”
    Jeb shook his head and eased the glass from her fingers only an instant before it would have slipped from her loose grasp. Holding it up to the light spilling through the door, he saw the dark red color of the drop that was left. “How many of these have you had?”
    â€œTwo.” She waved three fingers in his face. “Only two.”
    â€œOh dear.” Jeb smothered a smile and wondered if she couldn’t count, or had the least tolerance for wine of anyone he’d ever seen.
    â€œOh dear, is exactly right. This has been an ‘oh dear’ sort of day, all day long.” Her skirt dipped and swayed, and the square cut neck of her camisole dipped with it, revealing a tantalizing bit of femininity as she leaned against the door.
    â€œIt has, has it?” He wouldn’t think of the camisole, soft and supple, provocative in its very simplicity, and leaving little doubt her breasts were naked beneath it.
    â€œIn...innnndubitably.”
    â€œThen why don’t we fix it?” Stepping forward, he swept her into his arms, and was surprised to discover how well she fit next to his heart. How good she felt in his embrace.
    â€œWhat...?” Woozy from the swiftness of his move, she clung to him, her arms wrapped tightly about his neck.
    â€œShh,” Jeb murmured against her hair. “Just relax. This won’t hurt a bit. I promise.”
    â€œJeb?”
    â€œNone other.”
    With a step unhampered by the slight addition of her weight, he crossed to the deck and settled with her into the chaise. A glance at her demure little jacket tossed carelessly aside, and her shoes tumbled heel over toe as if a tottering child had abandoned them, told a story of irritation and frustration. The bottle of wine with so little taken from it proved a suspicion that she’d eaten little if anything all day. Explaining how two glasses of wine came to be verified so emphatically with three fingers.
    â€œKnocked you on your pretty little tush didn’t it, sweetheart?” Her shirt and his excuse, lay crumpled and forgotten by the door.
    â€œHmm?” She moved restlessly against him, her cheek scrubbing his chest.
    â€œShh.” He considered dinner, then decided food was not what she needed. Drawing her close, he stroked her hair, breathing in her perfume as it blended with the fresh sea air. A seductive combination as intoxicating as the wine. For his own sanity he didn’t want to think of her perfume, any more than he wanted to think of the camisole, or her body curled into his. But he wasn’t destined to succeed in that, and as he eased her tensions his own escalated. With an uneven note in his voice he murmured, “Why don’t you tell me about your day.”
    â€œMy day was terrible.” Each word was carefully spaced.
    â€œSo you said.”
    â€œIt started with you.”
    â€œThat was terrible?”
    â€œYes. No. I don’t know.”
    â€œMaybe we’d better leave that part out for now. What came