Page 36 of Carnal Urges

“Anything after that? Like touching my face?”

She wrinkles her nose. It’s almost adorable. “You drugged me again to get me to be quiet, didn’t you?”

“Against my better judgement, no.”

“There’s no way I touched your face unless I was attempting to claw out your eyeballs.”

When I stay silent, her eyes widen in alarm.

“No.”

“Aye. Stroked your fingers down my cheek like it was made of mink.” To see how she’ll handle it, I slip in, “You also told me how handsome I am.”

Her smile returns. “Now Iknowyou’re lying.”

She doesn’t think I’m handsome? That stings. I don’t care about her opinion, of course, it’s just that women are always telling me how good-looking I am.

Wait. I forgot. She’s not a woman. She’s a raging banshee who eats men’s sanity for supper.

“Tell me how you came to be lying on the bed, then.”

She looks around as if trying to remember. When her eyes meet mine again, I see her frustration.

“Fucking asphalt.”

“Come again?”

“I hit my head on the ground in the parking garage when you pulled me out of the car and dropped me. Hit it really hard, in fact. I think I might’ve passed out before you even gave me the ketamine.”

I don’t like the sound of that, but she’s wrong on one count. It seems oddly important to correct her. “I wasn’t the one who pulled you out of the car.”

“Yes, you did, I saw… Oh. Now that you mention it, I didn’t see the face of the person who did it.”

“It wasn’t me.”

“Who was it, then?”

“Why does it matter?”

“So I know who to be mad at.”

Kieran was the one who pulled her out of Kazimir’s Bentley and dropped her before throwing her into our SUV, but I’m not about to tell her that.

On the other hand, maybe she’ll fire him from being her new best friend and things will go back to normal around here. He actually had the nerve to suggest I should let her into the kitchen to cook for us.

As if it wouldn’t cause a mutiny if I tried to serve my men the rabbit food she eats.

But I decide the last thing anyone needs at the moment is this mouthy Tinker Bell banshee carrying a vendetta against him. We’ve got enough problems as it is.

“Forget it. But I’m going to bring the doctor in to have a look at you.”

I help her sit up. The color is coming back to her cheeks, which is good, but she still looks a little shaky. I squash the ridiculous urge to give her a reassuring hug and step back instead.

She looks up at me, squinting. “Did you say ‘doctor’?”

“Don’t tell me your ears aren’t working, either.”

“They’re working. I’m just surprised.”