That’s right my little duckies, the Private Places excerpts continue to rain down on the Pond. Shiloh Walker adds another chapter to her continuing Hunters series, with her contribution to the anthology titled Hunter’s Mercy. Enjoy!
E-X-C-E-R-P-T
“You started sneaking out of the house again, Mercy.”
No. I didn’t start. I never stopped so it’s hard to start again. But Mercy kept that to herself. “You can’t keep doing this. It’s too dangerous.”
Mercy said nothing.
“It’s been a year. Whatever or whoever killed your man is long gone.” When Mercy continued her silence, Lydia sighed. She gave Mercy’s hair a final brush and the bed shifted a little as Lydia got to her feet. “Come on now, Mercy. Lets get you something to eat.”
Mercy opened her mouth to object only to close it without saying a word. Lydia was glaring at her, her dark eyes narrowed. “You are going to eat something. You ate no dinner. You need to eat.”
Mercy’s retort died on her lips as she heard a voice from outside her room. A deep voice-her unexpected visitor and judging by how loud the voice had gotten, he was coming to her room. “I will leave after I’ve spoken with Mercy, Theo.”
That voice-it was familiar. As the doorknob turned, Lydia grabbed her wrap from the foot of Mercy’s bed. Mercy shoved her arms into it, swearing under her breath. Lydia grinned. “Your mama would blush if she could hear you right now.”
Mercy retorted, “If some strange man was about to intrude on her while she was wearing nothing but her bedclothes then she would have done more than swear.” The door opened and Mercy turned to face the intruder. Her hands, in the act of tying her robe closed, fell limp to her side as she met deep, dark green eyes. She knew those eyes-Lord forgive her, she had dreamed about the eyes for more than half of her life. Even when her husband had been lying in bed beside her, she had dreamed of him.
“Jack.”
He cocked a brow at her but said nothing. Instead, he studied her, that faint, mocking grin on his lips as he started at the top of her head and went down. His gaze lingered on the loose neckline of her chemise. Mercy felt a blush start, low along her breasts, right where he seemed to be staring and as his gaze went lower, her blush climbed higher, along her collarbone, up her neck, until her cheeks felt painfully hot.
Once he’d finished his perusal, he looked back at her face. “A strange man, Mercy? Does that mean since I am no stranger, I’m allowed to intrude on you while you’re in a state of undress?”
Undress? Mercy thought wildly. I’m practically naked. Her hands shook as she reached for the belt of her wrap and tied it tightly around her waist. She hoped he couldn’t see just how much they shook, but there was little Jack didn’t notice. His forest green gaze locked on her left hand, on the wedding ring that she simply couldn’t part with, and he glanced around the room. “And where is your husband, Mercy? Should I fear being challenged to a duel for interrupting your privacy?” He didn’t look at all concerned about it as he sauntered into the room and settled his long, lean frame in one of the chairs placed by the fireplace. “I hadn’t realized that you had wed.”
Mercy closed her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry, not in front of Jack Callahan. “Simon was killed last winter.”
