Heart of the Hunter Read Online Free

Besides the wolf and me, of course.”
    â€œNothing, yet.” The words were hardly spoken before he recognized he’d made a tactical error. If he needed to establish himself as a regular and welcome client, he must play what was evidently a game greatly relished by this small person. Play it he would. Teasing her with a look as lecherous as her own, he grinned a lazy grin. The cool gray of his eyes became warm silver. “When I do...need help, that is, should I ask for...?”
    As his voice trailed into another tantalizing pause, he saw delight flash in her eyes. Though she was short, shorter than Nicole, and much heavier, the weight was solid and perfectly distributed. With flawless, copper-hued skin and a Gypsy’s black mane tousled to perfection, she was a handsome woman. Clearly no stranger to masculine attention.
    Indeed, she was handsome, but not beautiful, he decided. Not as Nicole was beautiful.
    Keeping his attention focused on Annabelle, he didn’t need to glance at Nicole to make comparisons. How she looked had been burned into his brain in his study of her dossier and by weeks of surveillance.
    He didn’t need to look at her to remember, nor to know that she had abandoned the pretense of working and watched him openly.
    â€œI need to know your name,” he reminded Annabelle. “To be sure I get the right woman.”
    Annabelle’s laugh set her bosoms struggling to be free of whatever superstructure confined them. “You are a devil. But you Californians usually are. Always ready to give a woman her comeuppance by reminding her there’s other fruit on the tree.”
    â€œWhat makes you think I’m from California?” Jeb was a little alarmed by her astute deduction.
    â€œI don’t think, I know. It’s the accent. You’ve been away from it long enough and trained enough that there are only little nuances of it left.”
    Her allusion to his training was so perfectly on target that Jeb’s escalating alarm flickered for a moment in his eyes. For once the little woman seemed blithely unaware and chattered smugly on. “The average person wouldn’t hear it, but people come from all over the world to visit Charleston and the islands, and more than a few of them find their way to this gallery. After a while one learns. To be less than modest, I have an exceptional ear for accents and,” she added drolly, “it doesn’t hurt that I work for a former Californian.”
    â€œI’m beginning to think there’s a lot about you that’s exceptional, Annabelle.”
    â€œAnnabelle! You devil!” She wagged a finger at him. “You’ve known my name all along. But how?”
    â€œThe boss lady mistook me for you when I came in.”
    Annabelle’s rollicking laugh soared. “That would be a little hard to do.”
    â€œNot when there are Ashley Blackmon paintings to distract one.”
    â€œThat would tend to distract her. At least until she got a good look at you.” She leaned closer, lifting her round face to his, to whisper. “Now that she has, she can’t take her eyes off you. She’s been watching us, you know.”
    â€œIs that good or bad?”
    â€œUnusual,” Annabelle declared succinctly. “She rarely pays even the handsome ones more than cursory attention. Now.” She was hopscotching again. “Are you going to be fair?”
    â€œHow so?”
    â€œRunning to type, I see.” She clicked her tongue and sighed. “Playing the rogue to the hilt.”
    Jeb grinned. “Comes with the territory.”
    â€œI’m sure it does, but are you going to tell me who you are? Or is it that you’re a man of mystery on a dark, secret mission?”
    The woman was uncanny. He wondered if she weren’t the dangerous one. “Sorry to disappoint you, but there’s no mystery. As you guessed, I’m a Californian. My name