The Hunter by Theresa Meyers

nourished it. This Hunter was dangerous to something far more valuable than her soul. There was no time for fleeting fantasy or idealized versions of Legend lore. Colt was a Hunter. She was a demon. The two would never mix, so why did she suddenly yearn for it to happen?
    He held her at arm’s distance, his hands hot against her bare skin, both of them still inside the close quarters of the protective circle in the vast darkness of the night. He didn’t look like a dangerous demon slayer. His sinful good looks, set off by a strong jaw, jet dark hair that curled along his collar, and tempting mouth, were more akin to a gambler—full of promise, but too good to be true.
    His broad shoulders took up most of the room inside the circle, crowding her against the invisible barrier. The smell of his skin, a mix of potent male and the wild outdoors, made her dizzy with longing, and while she couldn’t retreat physically in the confines of the circle, Lilly did her utmost to withdraw emotionally. She refused to give her lust for this mortal the weight to affect who and what she was.
    She glared at his hand on her shoulder. “Touching me wasn’t part of our bargain.”
    He quickly moved his hand and she backed as far away from him as she could. “Release the circle so we can go open this door of yours. Where is it?”
    He pulled at the rim of his Stetson, settling it more firmly on his head. “Dark Rim Mine.”
    Lilly stiffened. The Dark Rim Mine had earned its name. It ran parallel to the rim of one of the gates of Hell. Not that the mortals knew that, but it was a favorite hunting ground for the Darkin, the children of the night. Either Colt was an incredibly skilled Hunter or he was an absolute fool.
    Standing face-to-face with him, her lips still tingling from the kiss he’d given her, Lilly bet he was the former rather than the latter.
    “You have a problem with that?” Colt leaned in close to her again, closing the gap she’d created until there was a mere breath of space between his broad chest and her silk-clad breasts. They tightened and ached, peaking forward, waiting for the graze of his touch. The low and gravelly quality of his voice, a man ultimately aware of a woman, picked out goose bumps over her exposed arms and legs.
    Lilly bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth. “Problem with the Darkin? No.” Problem being with you? Hell yes.
    With his face half in shifting shadow from the firelight, his eyes looked a darker midnight blue. He assessed her every movement with his penetrating gaze, making her aware of just how close they were to one another. Her heart beat faster, picking up speed like a locomotive. She needed to concentrate on gaining his trust and forget about all the odd sensations he was setting off in her.
    “You do realize what’s down there, don’t you, Hunter?”
    His gaze flicked downward for an instant to the juncture of her thighs outlined in the black silk. Down deep inside her everything pulsed and tightened. When he looked back up, his sexy mouth tipped up in the corner in a wicked grin. “I think I have a pretty good idea.” He ran a finger along her jaw, a touch that set off sparks all along her skin. “And the name’s Colt. You might as well get used to sayin’ it, sweetheart.”
    He was right, of course. They’d bypassed any whisper of proper social introduction and gone straight to being on quite intimate terms. Using proper names at this point was moot. Her heart did a double bump deep in her chest. Had he just called her sweetheart? Worse, with only a whisper of space between them, had he felt her reaction to the word? He was far more dangerous than she’d ever imagined. He was going to get her sent to Hell with no reprieve, to be tormented by Rathe for eternity.
    Lilly marshaled whatever resistance she could gather, steeling herself against the seductive sensations he played across her easier than a bar man at a saloon piano.
    “There’s only a thin barrier between