The Rogue Hunter (16 page)

Mortimer was silent for a moment as he negotiated traffic, but then nodded. "All right. For now."

She blinked in surprise at the proviso, but he was already asking, "What do you want to talk about?"

Sam hesitated, her mind seeking a safe subject to discuss, but none of them seemed safe, at least not to her. Every possible subject her mind was tossing up had to do with the man next to her, his life and his likes and dislikes. The worst was the recurring question, Did he like her? Did he find her at all attractive? Could he see himself having a fling with her? Would he please kiss her? Touch her? Make her body weep for him as it had in her dream?

Definitely not safe subjects, Sam decided. Aware that Mortimer was glancing at her curiously, she cleared her throat and said, "I don't know. How do you like it up here so far?"

"I like it," he said easily. "It's quiet and peaceful and surprisingly relaxing."

"I suppose it makes a big change from what you're used to in L.A."

"I don't spend much time in L.A. anymore," he said quietly.

"Do you have a house there?" Sam asked curiously.

"Bricker and I share an apartment, but considering how little time we spend there, we really shouldn't bother," he said wryly. "We stop in L.A. occasionally to visit family on holidays and so on, but mostly we're on the road."

"Oh yes, touring with the band and such," she murmured, considering what he'd said. Mortimer often referred to he and Bricker doing this, or he and Bricker doing that. She wouldn't have thought it odd since they were in a band together and therefore probably worked and played together… except that it was always he and Bricker and not he, Bricker, and Decker. The way he spoke made it sound almost like they were partners, she thought with a frown, and then her eyes widened with horror as she wondered if they
were
partners. A gay couple.

Dear God, it would be just like her to be interested in a gay man. And it was more than possible, she realized with dismay. Sam already knew she was completely lacking in gaydar. One of the lawyers at the firm was apparently gay, but she hadn't had a clue until her secretary had commented on how handsome and nice he was and it being such a shame he was gay. Sam had spent the last year just thinking his life partner was a roommate and friend until that point.

Now that the thought was in her head, Sam couldn't shake it. It hung there at the back of her mind like a bat waiting to unfurl itself and fly madly about inside her skull. Mortimer tried to start several conversations, but Sam had difficulty responding in more than one-word answers. He eventually gave up and left her to her thoughts.

Sam was sorry he did because now she found herself examining every little thing he'd said and every moment she'd seen the men together. She was also feeling horrible about the hot dream she'd had. Despite the fact that he couldn't know about it, she felt as if she'd molested him in some way. Mental rape of her poor gay neighbor. Dear God!

"Do you think they have a restaurant or coffee shop around here?" Mortimer asked suddenly, drawing her from her unpleasant thoughts. "I could do with something to eat."

Sam glanced around to see that they had arrived in Minden. They were driving past a large Independent grocers. Frowning, she admitted, "I'm not sure. I've only been here once and that was with my parents when we were kids. I'm sure they must have something."

A restaurant stop was probably a good idea. She was a bit hungry herself and could use a washroom break. Sam glanced along the businesses spread out on the street and then gestured ahead on their right as she spotted a plaza on the corner with several shops in it.

"There might be someplace there where we can stop."

"Good," Mortimer said with relief. "We can stretch our legs, grab a bite to eat, and look at the map to see where we have to go to find these Latimer people. Do you have the address?"

Sam nodded. Her boss hadn't thought to give it to her, but she knew it. She'd spent the first three months of her internship on a case for the Latimers and was constantly couriering papers to them at the cottage. She had written the address down so often, she didn't think she'd ever forget it. "I'll find it on the map while we're eating."

Nodding, Mortimer turned into the plaza.

They had their choice of a pizza joint or a small restaurant that served fish and chips and other simple foods. They chose the restaurant. Mortimer and Sam placed their orders at the counter and then each headed for the washrooms. Mortimer had already returned and found them a table by the time Sam reentered the dining area. He was peering down at the map book and didn't notice her arrival, so she took the opportunity to look him over as she approached, desperately seeking some sign of his sexual preference. Unfortunately, she didn't see anything that she recognized as either gay or nongay. The man wore the standard attire of jeans and a T-shirt; had short, kempt dirty-blond hair; and was clean-shaven. That didn't tell her anything, Sam thought, and then frowned as she noted that he was also very pale.

Mortimer glanced up as she scooted into the opposite side of the booth, his eyebrows rising in question as he noted her frown. "What's up?"

"You look pale," she said with worry. "Are you not feeling well?"

Mortimer hesitated and then looked away with a shrug. "I'm fine. Food will help."

His answer made her wonder if he wasn't diabetic or suffering some other ailment that affected his system, but before she could ask, they were interrupted by the arrival of their food, and she decided to let the question go for now. It wasn't like Mortimer could answer with his mouth full, and the man kept his mouth full until every last scrap of food on his plate was gone. He and Bricker certainly had good appetites, Sam thought, and then frowned as she realized they were now paired in her head. She couldn't seem to think of one anymore without the other coming up in her thoughts. In her mind, she was already convinced she was lusting after a gay man.

"Are you gay?" Sam hadn't meant to ask that, at least she wouldn't have done it so bluntly, but the words popped out before she could stop them. She then closed her eyes in dismay at her own behavior before opening them slowly to see Mortimer gaping at her with some dismay of his own. Whether it was because he wasn't gay or because she'd asked the question at all, she couldn't tell, and said apologetically, "I'm sorry. Really, terribly sorry. It's none of my business if you are, and I don't have any issue with homosexuality. I'm happy to be friends with you and Bricker. I—" Sam's apology ended on a gasp as he suddenly stood up, caught her hand, and used it to drag her from the booth.

"Really, I didn't mean to offend you," Sam babbled as he tugged her across the restaurant and out the door. "It's all right if you are. I would just like to know, because…" She brought her words to a halt before she could blurt that she liked him, and then quickly said, "Because Jo seems to be a little interested in Bricker and I wouldn't want her to be hurt because—" Her words died abruptly on another gasp, this time because she'd stumbled on something in the parking lot and tripped.

Mortimer immediately slowed, dropped her hand, and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her against his side for the last few feet to the SUV. He opened the passenger door and tried to hustle her into the vehicle, but Sam prevented it by putting a hand on the door and whirling to face him. "Please don't be angry, I just wanted to know."

She was silenced this time when his mouth came down on hers. Sam froze. As in her dream, this was no mere pecking or brushing of lips, this was a
kiss;
hungry, demanding, and all-consuming. Mortimer cupped the back of her head with one hand, holding her in place as he proved that he was definitely not gay. Well, unless her boyish figure misled him into thinking she was really a Sam and not a Samantha, she thought fuzzily, and then gave up that thought as his free hand moved to cover her breast through the cotton of her burgundy T-shirt.

Sam moaned into his mouth and pressed closer against him as he kissed her. It was just like her dream, and her body responded accordingly, her nipples immediately coming to attention and her thighs squeezing together as heat began to throb between them. She felt the frame of the SUV door press into her back as he urged her backward, and then the hand at her head dropped away to clasp one cheek of her behind and urge her forward to grind against him. Sam found herself clutching at his shoulders as she desperately fought the urge to wrap her legs around his hips and urge him on. She hadn't completely lost her mind, however, and some part of her mind was telling her that he was just trying to prove the point that he was not gay. Sam tore her mouth away and turned her head to prevent his kissing her again as she gasped, "Okay. You aren't gay. You don't have to—"

"I want to," he growled, urging himself against her so that she could feel just how much he wanted to as his mouth settled on her throat for want of her lips.

"Oh," Sam breathed as his hardness pressed into her. He definitely wanted to, she acknowledged as his mouth burned a trail along the vein in her throat. And she wanted to too, desperately, but they were standing outside, for crying out loud, and it was still daylight out, and they were in plain view of anyone who cared to look.

A point that was driven home when wolf whistles and catcalls reached her ears. Sam wasn't the only one to hear. Suddenly Mortimer was thrusting her away and turning her toward the SUV. "Get in."

Sam climbed dutifully inside, her eyes shooting out the windshield to find a trio of young men grinning and still calling out lewd suggestions as they moved to the door of the restaurant.

"I forgot the map book inside; I'll be right back," Mortimer said, and then closed the door behind her and followed the men into the restaurant.

Sam stared after him, marveling that he looked so calm and composed after that passionate embrace when she felt completely flummoxed. For several moments, she simply sat there enjoying the tingling radiating through her body, but then she began to worry. First she worried that there might be trouble in the restaurant with their trio of hecklers. She no sooner convinced herself that he was an intelligent, seemingly even-tempered guy and it would be fine, when she began to worry about his return. How was she supposed to act after the passionate embrace they'd just shared? Were they a couple now?

That question made her groan inwardly. That she could even ask herself that after one kiss just proved that Alex's worries were founded. Despite Tom, she was definitely a virgin when it came to affairs, Sam acknowledged. A kiss did not mean they were a couple nowadays. Heck, even having sex didn't mean that anymore. People had one-night stands all the time, never for a minute imagining they were a couple. She really wasn't ready for this fling business. What was she doing? And what was taking Mortimer so long?

Mortimer was relieved to see the map on the table where he'd left it. He retrieved the item, but didn't immediately head back out to the SUV. It wasn't the main reason he'd returned—it was just a handy excuse. The fact was, Mortimer had been seconds away from sinking his teeth into Sam's neck and feeding the hunger that was presently twisting his stomach when the catcalls and whistles had reminded him of where he was and what he was doing.

He hadn't kissed Sam with the intention of biting her. He'd kissed her because of her question as to his sexual orientation. It had first shocked him, and then he'd found himself a tad outraged that the woman he was lusting after was doubting his sexual preference. Then he worried that if she thought he was gay, she wouldn't be interested in him as he wanted her to be, and hoped she was.

Somehow all of that had culminated in the he-man tactic of "showing" her where his interests lay. The kiss. He'd only meant it to be a quick, demonstrative caress, but the moment he'd tasted her on his lips, it had turned into more. And when she'd responded, his good intentions had flown out the window altogether. The woman was as much a powder keg out of their dreams as she was in. Her response had been eager and passionate, making him lose his head entirely. Mortimer had let his hands begin to wander, his mind filling with images of ripping her clothes off and making love to her against the SUV. But then she'd broken the kiss and turned her head away.

When Mortimer had trailed his mouth down her neck and felt the vein pulsing with excitement there, his passion had briefly been waylaid by another hunger—his desperate need for blood. And he
was
feeling pretty desperate at the moment.

Despite their best efforts, he and Bricker hadn't been able to completely avoid exposing themselves to sunlight today. While he'd worn jeans rather than the more comfortable shorts to help avoid as much exposure as possible, a long-sleeved shirt would have seemed odd on what was a hot summer day, so his arms, hands, and face had been exposed. And while they'd been safe enough from the damage of UV rays in the SUV, every stop they'd made that day had meant at least a short walk under the sun's punishing glare.

All that, combined with his body's need to deal with the alcohol the night before and the tainted blood he'd consumed when he woke up at noon, had left him dehydrated and in serious need of blood. This was one of those emergencies when his people were allowed to feed "off the hoof" and bite mortals. But Mortimer wouldn't feed on Sam. He couldn't control her, so he couldn't erase the memory of his biting her afterward, and it was much too soon to reveal what he was to her and hope she could accept it without running screaming into the night.

No, he couldn't bite Sam. He needed another donor. Mortimer's gaze slid around the restaurant, noting and discounting various customers before his gaze landed on the trio of laughing young men who had so rudely interrupted them outside. Mortimer considered each briefly, then chose the one who looked healthiest and slipped into his thoughts. Within seconds the lad was excusing himself and making his way to the men's room.

Mortimer followed.

Chapter Nine

Sam was sufficiently worried at the length of time Mortimer was taking to retrieve the book that she seriously feared he'd gotten into a mix-up with their hecklers after all. She was actually reaching for the door handle to get out of the car when he finally appeared.