Twenty-odd kilometers is nothing with a car.
They were soon back at his place; Hunter got out and popped the trunk.
He lifted out the grill and leftover charcoal and was about to say goodbye to Mia when
he saw the sun-flushed mixed-race girl step out as well.
"Let me help."
Mia picked up the ice bucket they'd bought at the beach.
That afternoon Hunter had rented a rod and a small boat for a bit of fishing.
To his surprise he'd triggered a Fishing skill and landed two fish.
Neither was big—together they weighed under three pounds—but enough for an extra meal.
So he'd bought a pail and two bags of ice on the spot and brought the fish back.
"I've got it—you head home!"
Hunter hoisted the bag with the grill and the charcoal in one hand and reached for the ice bucket with the other.
But Mia sidestepped him and headed straight for the apartment building.
Surprised, he watched her curvy figure from behind.
His mind flashed back to noon, when they'd rubbed sunscreen on each other, skin touching skin.
A sudden heat flared inside him.
He swallowed the words about to leave his mouth.
One behind the other, they climbed upstairs in silence.
The old elevator in this aging building had broken down decades ago,
and no conscientious property manager or local council ever came to Repair or replace it.
Luckily Hunter lived on the third floor—only a few flights.
He didn't know what got into him while climbing;
his gaze kept drifting, almost unconsciously, to Mia's peach-shaped rear.
Perhaps his stare was too frequent, too heated.
Mia soon noticed, and the flush on her cheeks deepened.
"Wait for me!"
At his apartment door Hunter slipped a hand into his pocket
and actually pulled the key from his private space.
To him, nowhere on earth was safer than that private space.
He unlocked the door quickly and held it open with a welcoming gesture.
Mia seemed not to catch the hidden meaning in Hunter's invitation.
Carrying the ice bucket, she walked in.
Hunter followed right behind her; the instant he stepped into the apartment he swung the door shut and locked it.
Leaving the grill and charcoal to one side, Mia lifted the ice bucket. "Hunter, where do the fish go?"
"I've got it."
Hunter took the pail from her, and when his fingertips brushed the back of her hand he clearly felt the mixed-race girl give a tiny shiver.
He opened the lower cabinet of the fridge.
Sliding out an empty freezer drawer, he stuffed the two fish inside.
"Go wash up—the smell's pretty strong."
He tossed the bucket aside and spoke to Mia.
Mia nodded and headed for the bathroom.
Listening to the rush of water, Hunter's mind drifted unavoidably back to the beach at noon—
to the sensual, bewitching body of the girl as he'd spread sunscreen on her.
"An eighteen-year-old Western girl is at her absolute peak."
Western women mature earlier than Eastern women—and also show age sooner.
Plenty of Eastern women in their fifties or sixties can still look stunning with a bit of make-up.
Many Western women, though, look like grandmothers once they hit their thirties.
Each has its own advantages.
While he mused, Mia finished washing and stepped out.
"Hunter, I'm done."
Hunter nodded; his own hands reeked of fish.
He strode into the bathroom and rinsed off.
Behind him, Mia opened her mouth.
She meant to say goodbye, but for some reason the words stuck in her throat.
"I'll say it in a minute—any later and Dom will be angry again."
For no reason the image of Vince flashed through her mind.
The man who had been hounding her since she was fifteen or sixteen had left her with a terrible impression—
crude, violent, savage.
Because of Vince's bullying, Mia hadn't had a single male friend her own age before meeting Hunter.
She was sick of him and had complained to her brother more than once.
All she ever got was a careless laugh and a few dismissive questions.
In time she gave up.
She felt like a bird in a cage—
and the one holding the cage was her own brother.
Hunter finished washing and came out.
"What would you like for dinner, Mia?"
"I've learned a few new Chinese dishes—want to try them?"
He invited the beautiful mixed-race girl to stay for supper.
Mia shook her head. "No, I have to get back, Hunter."
"Any later and Dom will be angry."
The words left her lips and she felt a faint, inexplicable sense of loss.
She forced a smile, waved at the handsome Chinese-American boy, and turned to leave.
But the instant she turned, she felt her right hand grow warm—
a large hand had closed around hers.
She spun around reflexively and saw Hunter right behind her.
The hand holding hers was his.
"Stay a little longer."
The handsome boy's gaze burned into her.
From his eyes Mia saw a blazing fire that seemed ready to devour her.
Her throat suddenly felt dry.
She opened her mouth to refuse—"I…"
But before she could finish, the boy's face was moving closer, aiming for her lips.
The instant their lips met it felt as if a bomb had gone off in her head.
Her mind went blank, then her arms and legs lost all strength.
Her body turned strangely hot.
When their lips parted, the boy's magnetic voice sounded beside her ear.
"Stay a little longer—okay?"
It seemed to carry a spell; Mia felt her body was no longer her own.
She actually gave a tiny nod.
A pair of strong arms swept her up and carried her off.
A storm soon broke inside the small apartment…