Beautiful Sacrifice

irritated.
    Motion sensors kicked on. Spotlights pointed the way to the weather-beaten porch. There was a scurry of critters racing for the shadows.
    “Just like being on a dig,” Lina said, laughing.
    “So long as they stay outside and don’t bite, my uncle don’t pay them no never mind,” Hunter said.
    His drawl sounded just right, like he’d grown up with it. One accent for the city, one for the country.
    Another light went on inside the house. At the end of the driveway Lina saw a tiny garage. Its door was closed.
    “Is your uncle here now?” she asked.
    “No. He only likes Padre in the summer. Then he complains about all the damn people. Think that’s why he likes it,” Hunter said. “Under all the gruff, he’s a people person.”
    “What about you?”
    “What do you think?” Hunter asked with a sideways look.
    She smiled slightly. “I don’t think you’re a people person.”
    “Gold star on your forehead, sweetheart. I’m real choosy about who shares my time. An hour wasted on social chitchat is an hour of my life I’ll never get back.”
    “And here I am, invading more than an hour,” she said unhappily.
    His arm tightened, pulling her even closer, until she could feel the flex and play of his thigh along her hip. The easy power of him pleased her in ways that kept surprising her. She’d never been much for the macho type, having seen way too many of them in Mexico. But Hunter…Hunter simply was what he was, no fuss, no bother, no strutting.
    “You can invade my life anytime you like,” he said, “for however long you want. Besides, I’m a blackmailer, remember?”
    “Better than kidnappers and murderers.”
    “I’m relieved.” And he was. He didn’t want Lina angry to be in his company. He simply wanted her.
    Hunter stepped up onto the narrow porch that ran along the front of the house. Computer in one hand, he pulled a key from his jeans pocket with the other. Despite the weathered appearance of the door, the lock was bright and well oiled. The door opened without a creak or grind.
    “Come on in,” he said.
    He put his computer on a dusty table and headed straight to a surprisingly complex security system across the room.Quickly he punched in a long code. Lights on the panel flickered from red or orange to green.
    “I bet your uncle installs security systems along with rescuing debutantes,” Lina said, setting her purse next to his computer.
    “It was the original business. Then things started going to hell south of the border and he expanded the menu options for customers. Personal security training, threat evaluation, kidnap negotiations, bodyguards, whatever the customer wants—as long as it’s legal.”
    “So you’re a bodyguard, too?” she asked.
    His mouth flattened. “Only when I don’t say no fast enough, and only for very short periods—corporate meetings across the border and such. I don’t have the social skills to be a high-level bodyguard. And I don’t want them.”
    You could guard my body anytime, Lina thought immediately.
    She had just enough self-control left not to say it aloud. For the first time in her life, she wanted to have the kind of affair that women wrote memoirs about. With Hunter.
    “So your uncle comes to a crowded place and complains a lot,” she said, struggling for a neutral topic. “Does he complain about other things?”
    “Only on the days that end in y .”
    She laughed softly. “Sounds like Abuelita. ‘Why don’t you dress better, Lina?’ ‘Why don’t you have a man, Lina?’ ‘I can’t wait forever for my great-great-grandchildren.’”
    “Children are a gift,” he said without thinking as he locked the door behind them and reset the security system.
    “You sound like you have personal knowledge,” Lina said.
    And then she held her breath, waiting for his answer.
    “I do. Did. She and her mother died.”
    Lina’s hand went to Hunter’s arm. She wanted to say shewas sorry, but the words were so useless. She put her arms around him and held him, just held him, wishing she could take away the kind of pain that no one should have to know.
    “It was years ago,” he said, holding her in turn.
    “Not for you,” she said huskily. “It’s there every day you wake up, fresh as dawn.”
    His arms tightened. For long minutes they just stood, sharing warmth and life. Slowly Hunter released her. It was that or take her to the nearest flat surface and eat her alive. But she was too vulnerable right now and he