Raven's Prey

would definitely be one way of showing Evie how much you cared, wouldn’t it?”
    “It would be a risk….”
    “Women have been taking that kind of risk for men for years!”
    He smiled wryly. “You’ve got a point. I never thought of it that way before. I like to think I’m a modern sort of man, but sometimes I think life would be simpler if I weren’t quite so modern.”
    “Evie probably wouldn’t be half so interesting to you if [_she _]weren’t so modern!”
    “Ouch!” Steve chuckled ruefully. “I’m afraid you’re right.”
    It wasn’t until the music drew to a close that Honor saw Judd.
    For an instant, as she came off the floor on Steve’s arm, Honor was transported back to that night in the smoky cantina when she’d first seen her hunter. Everything stood still as she absorbed the impact and the implications of his presence.
    He was sitting in a darkened booth at the back of the room. Dressed in black he seemed a part of the shadows around him. But the glittering dark eyes burned with a cold, intense fire that seemed to reach out to trap her. He didn’t move as she stumbled slightly at Steve’s side, simply sat quietly watching her as if she were prey that he could take his time collecting. There was no place she could run.
    “Honor? Are you all right?” Steve’s concerned tones brought her head around a little too sharply.
    “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. I just need to sit down for a while. Too many drinks on an empty stomach, I suppose.” What was Judd going to do? Would he cause a scene there in the lounge? Would he bide his time and follow her home? Would he wait for her in the parking lot? Intense panic gripped her.
    Because there could be no doubt about why he was there. No amount of rationalization would explain his presence. Judd had followed her to Phoenix and she knew from the quiet, intent way he watched her that he was on the hunt once again. And once again she was to be the prey.
    Belatedly her survival instincts began to assert themselves. Damn him to hell! She was not a silly, panicked little creature to be stricken helpless by the mere approach of the hunter. She could run, she could fight back, she could summon help. This wasn’t Mexico and she wasn’t alone and friendless. Judd Raven would not find her such an easy victim this time!
    “Honor! Are you sure you’re all right? Why don’t I order us some appetizers?” Steve’s voice grew more concerned as he carefully seated her.
    She looked at him rather blankly, unable to focus on him because every fiber of her being was too vividly aware of Judd on the other side of the lounge. “That… that would be great, Steve.”
    “You stay here and I’ll go find the hostess. If we wait for her to come around to us in this crowd we’ll starve to death!”
    “Oh, no, please! You don’t have to go find her…” But he was already on his way, weaving through the crowded lounge in search of the cocktail waitress.
    Honor felt abandoned and trapped. She sat frozen, not daring to glance in Judd’s direction. Would he approach her now that Steve had left? This wasn’t Mexico. He couldn’t just drag her out of here, she reassured herself. Then she tried another swallow of her drink, seeking courage.
    For five long minutes she sat, refusing to let her gaze be drawn to the corner where Judd was seated. They had to be the longest five minutes of her life. At any moment she expected to feel herself seized in the raven’s talons and carried away. Dressed in a soft crepe off-the-shoulder dress of chrome-yellow she felt very vulnerable. A wide purple band emphasized her slender waist and the bright color combination made her feel suddenly very conspicuous. She would have given anything if she’d only decided on a darker, less vibrant dress that evening. How could you hide in the shadows when you were wearing something this exotic?
    Damn it! Why did she feel she had to hide? She tried another sip of liquid courage and told herself there was nothing Judd could do to her as long as she stayed close to Steve.
    Which brought up the rather dismaying [_question _]of what Judd did intend to do to her. He hadn’t been pleased yesterday morning when she’d walked out of that motel room, but he’d made no real move to stop her. Not then. He’d been firmly under control, as usual. What had made him decide to come after her? Perhaps birds of prey simply didn’t like the idea of having their victims walk away without permission.
    Was that