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The sound of rain woke him. Diego lay quietly for a moment just listening. He’d always loved the sound of rain, especially when he was out in the forest. There was music to the way the drops fell. The wind through the trees, the way each drop fell on various trees and shrubs, all of it was a soothing symphony to him. The rain cleared the air, brought life to everything: plants, wildlife, stock and humans. Tonight, the rain was light, nearly a mist, a soft, quiet song that caught at his heart the way the rain in the forest often did.

After allowing himself a brief moment to be fully relaxed, Diego breathed away the pain crashing through him and focused on the sounds of the forest. With his enhanced hearing he could identify and position wildlife in the vicinity. He would know when intruders were close. Every noise, rustle, flutter or squeak gave him information necessary to survive.

Survive. He was a grown man and a doctor. He should have recognized all the signs of a child indoctrinated with a parent’s depression and near hatred. Luther was right. That old man had tried through the years to save Rubin. To save him . As a child he hadn’t recognized that his mother was mentally ill. He hadn’t realized how much her opinion of him shaped him into thinking he was worthless other than as his brother’s protector. Had he accomplished what he’d set out to do, he would have missed meeting an incredible woman—a survivor against all odds. That would have been the true tragedy of his life.

Diego opened his eyes, focused on the ceiling of woven branches and vines, and then turned his head slowly to look at the woman lying so still beside him. He felt the heat of her through their touching thighs. Her palm curled around his wrist. He didn’t move his arm away from her as he studied her. He had excellent night vision, thanks to all the enhancements done to him, and it was easy for him to see her high cheekbones, that delicate curve along her jaw, the length of her lashes and her full, bow-shaped lips. She’d called him a gorgeous man. She’d gotten that wrong, but he knew beauty when he saw it.

He found himself admiring her all the more. She was lying in a makeshift shelter with a total stranger, totally vulnerable after getting shot all to hell, nearly raped, and operated on in a manner she had no knowledge of, but she lay with a gun at her fingertips and one hand on him. On his pulse. Looking after him. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she would have shot anything poking its head through the entrance to their den. This was a woman who would protect her children. He knew with absolute certainty that she would never single one out and label them a demon from hell.

He studied her face, feature by feature, while the rain played a symphony to him. There was both strength and softness in that ultrafeminine face. This woman would be a wonder—a miracle for a man to wake up to every morning and fall asleep with the image of her in his mind to carry him through the night.

With some reluctance, he forced his body to move. He was careful. Taking on life-threatening injuries was always risky. Seeing the severity of her wounds, he’d known there was a better-than-average chance he wouldn’t make it, but the compulsion to heal her was far too strong to deny.

He took his time checking every muscle, stretching to loosen his stiff body before he sat up. His body didn’t like the new position, his insides protesting, but he needed to get outside and then do a few chores, hopefully before she woke.

The cool, wet air was refreshing to him. He rarely was inside. His preference would always be the outdoors, where he could see and feel anything coming at him or anyone he loved. There was a freedom he felt deeply when he was in the forest—or swamp. He’d adapted to the swamp in Louisiana, and it felt like a second home to him. Never the city. He couldn’t breathe there. He faked it, using his enhanced abilities to get by. Charming, smiling and appearing easygoing when none of it was real.

Diego buried Leila’s bloody clothing, along with the shirt of his that had bloodstains on it from carrying her. He didn’t worry about wild animals finding them through the scent; he could control the animals. But if the soldiers sent to find the others were enhanced trackers—and he was certain these men were sent from the laboratory Luther and Leila had been enhanced in—then one of them could easily have an acute sense of smell. He did. Gino Mazza, one of his teammates, could track anyone with drops of blood lingering in the air.

He replenished their water supply after he thoroughly washed and cleaned the basin he’d provided for Leila to relieve herself. After hydrating and spending more time staring down at her face and admiring her, he knelt beside her and spread his hands over her, reaching for the well of energy inside him. At once, heat rose, moving through his body to his mind and hands, allowing him to examine her.

Her long lashes fluttered and then lifted, a distraction he didn’t need.

“That’s very warm.”

Her voice was drowsy, sexy, sending a different kind of heat down his spine. “Don’t distract me, woman. Give me a few minutes to make sure everything is going to hold before you go getting all flirty with me.”

“I don’t get flirty. Not ever.”

Even just coming out of a deep sleep, her sense of humor was at the forefront, recognizing he was teasing her. That was another point in her favor. He needed a woman with a sense of humor. The thought came before he could censor it. He shook his head and tried again to focus, shoving his strange addiction to her away so he could take care of her.

She was healing nicely. She had a long way to go, but the surgery was holding. He needed to get her legs and hips moving so there was no chance of blood clots. Now that he wasn’t as weak, he could go back in and boost her antibodies against infection and make certain each organ affected by the bullet would be strong enough to hold while she moved around. In a hospital, with normal surgery, she would be discharged in three days to a week if it was just her spleen removed. Her stomach and small intestine had also been compromised.

He sat back, eyeing her sternly. “Do not give me your cute smile and expect I’m going to let you talk me into letting you up.”

Her perfect bow of a mouth curved, drawing his immediate attention. That got him right in the gut. Women were attracted to him. He never went looking; they found him. He always made it clear it would be for a night. He had no interest in adding a woman to his life. Never. Until now. There was something about her he had a bad feeling he might not be able to live without. Anything different in his life put him on edge. Leila was as different as it got. And his reaction to her was a mystery to him.

“What?” Her voice was low, creating an intimacy between them. “Tell me. I’d rather you be honest with me.”

Her palm found his wrist. He felt her fingers slide over his pulse. That small, telling gesture was enough to set his heart stuttering. It made no sense that he was so attracted. If he’d been eyeing her for one night, he wouldn’t have given it a second thought. She was beautiful and funny and obviously intelligent. Courageous. He could go on listing her qualities, and that was the problem right there. That reaction was completely foreign to his nature.

Diego had a bad feeling that everything he’d ever wanted was right there, lying on the small bed he’d made for her. Looking up at him with those eyes of hers. She was everything he wanted without knowing he wanted it.

“You’re unexpected.” He decided honesty with her was the only recourse he had. He had no idea why he made that decision when he wasn’t honest with his brother, the one person he loved and held in the highest regard. “I’ve lived in the wilds a long time, and my enhancements include many predatory animals. That’s made me have more animal instincts than is probably good.”

Her brows came together. Of its own volition, his finger rubbed along that little frown line, smoothing it out.

“What are you thinking? Is something wrong?” Her voice was tinged with worry.

“Not with you. You’re healing nicely. I’m just in unfamiliar territory. I like to think things through before I make a move.”

“Do you think I’m a threat to you? You saved my life. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me.”

He had the unexpected urge to brush his lips against hers just to see what she tasted like. To inhale her breath, take her inside him where he could study her from every angle and see what it was that he found so intriguing. That alone made her dangerous to him, whether she thought so or not.

He asked himself if it was possible she’d been paired with him. He knew that was an ongoing experiment Whitney enjoyed. He would use scent to enhance an attraction between two people, especially if he thought he would be able to get a child from his soldiers he deemed worthy.

“You were never given to Whitney?”

She shook her head. “If I had been, I would have killed him. He didn’t raise me and remove all my filters the way he did my sister. She’s a mess, and he deliberately did that to her. If I’m ever introduced, I would consider it a worthy exchange: my life to take him with me.”

His ability to breathe stopped. His lungs felt raw and burning. His heart did that weird stuttering thing in his chest that actually hurt. He found himself shaking his head. “No, you’re not going to get killed just because you get a shot at him. You’re a bloodthirsty, hotheaded little thing. It looks like I might have to stick around you and keep you from doing anything crazy on the spur of the moment.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You did not just call me a ‘little thing.’ There’s nothing little about me.”

He felt the grin before it flashed through him. “You’re right, Leila. My mistake.”

“Has anyone ever just wanted to carve a small reminder not to be arrogant into you? Not kill you, just give you a few cuts making up some symbol so you learn to behave?”

“Actually, yes.”

“And I don’t mean enemies. Someone you live around and know very well.”

“Rubin has threatened to shoot me on many occasions. He’s thrown knives at me. Once he shaved the skin off my arm.”

She gasped, her large green eyes looking like two jewels pressed into her face. Her fingers dug into his inner wrist. “He really did that?” She sounded indignant after just having threatened him with similar behavior, making him want to laugh.

He shrugged, drinking her in. Her reactions to things fascinated him. “Yep. Apparently, I can be quite annoying.” He knew he didn’t sound in the least remorseful because he wasn’t.

He gently took his wrist back so he could move around behind her, setting up a backrest between her and what would be a very uncomfortable wall. “I’m going to lift you. Let me do the work. You just stay relaxed. You’re going to feel it because you haven’t moved for a while, but everything looks good, and I reinforced the weaker spots I found.”

He slipped his hands under her arms and as gently as possible eased her into a sitting position. Her breath hissed out, but she didn’t make any other sound. Sweat broke out on her forehead, but she tilted her head back and gave him a smile that could have melted the devil.

“Thank you. You’re a pretty amazing man.” There was open admiration in her voice.

He settled her against the backrest and rolled his jacket to shove under one arm to help keep her upright. He sat beside her on the other side, sliding his hand down her arm to catch her hand. Threading her fingers through his, he wove them together.

“Woman, you’re going to make me think you still have drugs in your system if you start that nonsense again.”

She laughed just as he knew she would. He put a bottle of water in her free hand. “Hydrate. It’s important to keep hydrated.”

She made a face. “Then I’ll have to go to the bathroom. I’m not complaining about the accommodations, because you made it as nice and as easy for me as possible, but it’s seriously ugh.”

He raised his eyebrow. “?‘Ugh’?” he deliberately repeated. “You’re a soldier. You must be used to going into terrain without a clean bathroom.”

“Just because I’m used to it doesn’t mean I have to like it.” She ducked her head, refusing to look at him. “I know I’m a mess and I look more a soldier than a woman, but I can assure you, I’ve got a side that is all girl.”

He caught her chin and brought her head up. Her green eyes collided with his. Her expression was heartbreaking, as if she expected her admission to lessen his opinion of her.

“When we get to the cabin, there’s a shower and a decent bathroom. I like the fact that you have that side to you. It means I might have a shot.”

A look of utter confusion crossed her face. “A shot? At what?”

“If we’re both total alphas, how do we get along? And I want to get along with you. I don’t say that to many people. In fact, giving it some thought, the only woman I’ve ever thought that of is Jonquille, my sister-in-law. It was important for her to accept me as her family. She needed a family. She’s like your sister, no filters. Rubin is like me. We can anchor those without filters and give them some relief from the continual bombardment.”

“Do you like her? On her own, without being your brother’s wife, do you like her for who she is?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, she’s special. I’m grateful Rubin has her. He’s very much in love with her, and she deserves him.” He smiled down at her without really feeling like smiling. “I’m not such a bargain.”

She gave him that frown he found both adorable and offensive. He didn’t like her disturbed over anything, and this time the frown was genuine. She didn’t agree with him. He found himself liking the fact that she stuck up for him, even when he was the one putting himself down.

“You have to have women throwing themselves at you, Diego.” She made it a statement.

He wasn’t going to deny it, so he shrugged instead. “It happens. That doesn’t mean I’m not lonely or don’t want a woman of my own.”

“Have there been a lot of women?”

He recognized treacherous waters when he saw them. “Probably too many.” He turned her hand over and brought her fingers to his mouth. It was difficult to resist biting the tips gently. The desire was there. He felt a little like a wolf coaxing a mate to accept him. He realized he was courting her in his strange, wild way.

“How come you aren’t with one of them? What went wrong?”

“Nothing went wrong. We weren’t in a relationship. I don’t date. I didn’t see any of them for more than a few hours.”

Her eyebrow shot up, but she didn’t pull her hand away from his, and her body stayed relaxed against him. Trusting. He didn’t deserve her trust, not yet, but he was determined that he would.

“A few hours?” she repeated, staring straight into his eyes.

He could fall into all that vivid green and just live there. She was mesmerizing. “Yeah. I don’t like admitting I’m that big of a dick, but I made it clear going in that I wouldn’t be sticking around.”

“You know they didn’t believe you.”

“They believed me, but they didn’t want to. They mostly tried to convince me that we would be good together.”

“But you didn’t think so.”

“Honey, seriously? They sought me out, but they didn’t know the first thing about who I am or what I do. They only knew I was a doctor in the service, and they liked how I looked. There are a lot of women who like to marry servicemen. Doctors are at a premium. Not one of them took the time to have a conversation with me. It wasn’t like they cared enough to find out who I am.”

“They weren’t very intelligent,” she pointed out. “Why be with someone if you aren’t going to be best friends and have a relationship where you communicate? Where you like that person? Shouldn’t a relationship be like that?” Her fingers tightened around his.

“It matters to me what you think. What kind of relationship would you like?” He felt as if he were holding his breath. Everything in him went utterly still. Waiting for the crash. Waiting to be told a man like him would never stand a chance with her.

“When I think about having a husband and family, which, in all honesty, I didn’t ever believe could happen to me, I know I want us to be best friends first. I want to laugh with him all the time. If we have children, I want their father to laugh with me at their antics. My parents were like that. Always together. Always laughing. My dad would dance my mother around the kitchen. Or the living room. Music was always playing in our house, and he would just catch her around the waist and spin her around and then pull her close. The way they looked at each other was priceless.”

“What were you doing when they danced together?” He wished he could have seen her as a young child in a happy home.

“Dancing with my sister. We’d all hold hands sometimes, or Dad would dance with me and Mom with Bridget.” She pressed her lips together, and he tightened his fingers around hers, wanting to comfort her. “I miss them every day.”

Did he miss his father? His mother? He missed his siblings but not his parents so much. He hadn’t thought about that, or why. He’d just tucked them away in a compartment in his mind and firmly closed and locked the door.

“Your parents sound like good people. Luther was that way with Lotty. We’d sneak down to visit her occasionally, and when Luther would show up, we’d just fade into the forest, but we always watched them together before we slunk off for home. Luther knew we were there, but it never stopped him from picking her flowers or sweeping her off her feet and carrying her into the house. Sometimes he did dance with her, and he sang. Don’t ever let on I told you that or he’d likely take my head off. He loved Lotty more than anything.”

“What was she like? She would have been my great-aunt.”

“Lotty didn’t have a mean bone in her body. No matter how long Luther was gone when he disappeared, she waited for him. She kept their little house perfect and comfortable for him. Everything was about him. And for him, everything was about her. When he was gone, and we always thought he was on a trip of some kind, something to do with his moonshine, Rubin and I hunted and fished for Lotty. Luther never left her without supplies, but we always checked on her. We liked being around her, and sometimes we’d sneak our sisters out. We’d bring them down here. At times we could convince my mother that Lotty needed the company, then it wasn’t so bad when we went back home.”

“My mother told me my grandmother admitted to saying horrible things to Luther after the war,” Leila said. “She was an activist, as were her friends. They all were very mean to Luther. She said the moment she hurled the insults at him, she regretted it, but she didn’t apologize right there in front of her friends as she should have. My mother told me to always think before speaking and never say things to a loved one you can’t take back. My grandmother never had the chance to apologize to him and make things right between them. He disappeared.”

“He was still working for the government. They would have helped him disappear.”

“My father always hoped to meet him. He knew he was Luther’s nephew because my grandmother would always tell him wonderful stories about him. My grandmother said that was her one regret, and it was a heartbreaking one. She really did love him. She didn’t want Luther to die thinking no one loved him. She always told me she loved him very much.”

“Lotty loved him,” Diego said. “Men like us, like Luther and I, don’t expect to be loved. We don’t, so if it happens, it would feel like a miracle. Lotty was Luther’s miracle.”

Her thumb stroked along the outside of his fingers. It was the lightest of touches. He doubted she was aware of it. It was gentle. Comforting. Instinctive in her to want to soothe him. She was born with that trait. His warrior woman, lethal as hell, but all woman. The good kind. He couldn’t help but think of the stark difference in what she wanted for her home and family and what his mother had created for them.

“Diego, what did you mean when you said the kind of men you and Luther are?”

He leaned his head beside hers against the makeshift backrest. “I promised myself I’d give you the real me, even though I know it will screw up any chance I have with you.” He kept his gaze fixed on her face. She had the most appealing bone structure.

“That implies you don’t give others the real you. Why bother with me?”

“I hide in plain sight. I have to. My brother is hanging out there, vulnerable, whether he likes to think so or not. That doesn’t discount his abilities to fight. He’s a man to have on your side, and he brings all kinds of assets to the table with him. It’s just that his surgeries are incredible. His speed and skills are light-years ahead of mine. He’s saved so many lives during our rescues, it’s unbelievable. There are a couple of others with his ability, but he’s hands down the master.”

She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. “Why aren’t you including yourself with those miracle workers? You are, you know.”

“You took a big chance letting me work on you. I heal animals, and have, hundreds of them, but I’ve only helped a couple of humans. Your operation was the first major one like that I’ve done. I travel with Rubin, and I always ensure he’s safe when he’s healing. He’s extraordinary at it.”

She was silent for a short period of time, thinking things over, the way she seemed to do. “I was pretty out of it, but I recall you telling me you were trusting me not to give away your secret. I took that to mean to our government or anyone who would dissect you to see how it worked. But you meant anyone. No one knows you can do what your brother does, do they? You don’t want anyone to know.”

She turned her head when she asked the question, staring him straight in the eyes. Two emeralds. That was what it was like looking into. A beautiful green jeweled sea. He could get lost looking into her eyes, and he wasn’t the poetic type. He knew Rubin wrote poetry. He’d never invaded his brother’s privacy, but he knew Rubin had a poet’s soul. He, however, did not. There wasn’t a bone in his body that could be labeled romantic, or poetic, yet looking into her eyes, all he could think about was the beauty of emeralds.

He’d promised himself he’d be real with her. She would ask him uncomfortable questions, questions he no longer had the answers to. “You and Luther. That’s it.”

“Luther is so tight-lipped when it comes to confidences, you know he’d never give anyone the smallest detail about you, even if they tortured him.”

“That’s true. How long were you with your great-uncle before you were attacked?”

“About eighteen hours.”

“He didn’t know much about either of you. I needed information quickly, and he wanted me to go after you, so he didn’t have much of a choice. He told me you were his great-nieces. He blames himself for what happened to you.”

“That seems to be a running theme in our family. I blame myself for not taking care of my sister, and Luther blames himself for what happened to us when he didn’t even know we existed. You know what that proves? We are human after all. Making us some kind of souped-up elite soldiers still doesn’t make us think we’re all that.”

Again, there was that faint note of humor. She had no trouble laughing at herself. He thought that was a much better way to handle life than being morose, as he often found himself getting to be. He flashed a small self-deprecating grin.

“I need to hang out with you more. You make me laugh when I thought I’d forgotten how.” He tugged at her hair. The braid was coming loose, and stray strands were beginning to behave on the wild side. He wanted to see that mass of silk shiny and naturally wild.

Once again, her green eyes moved over his face as if committing his features to memory. She seemed to make it a habit, when she looked at him, to focus completely on him. The intensity in her direct stare gave him the feeling she could see right into him. Inside. He had a lot of secrets, most of them needing to stay concealed, never to see the light of day.

Diego wanted her to see him, and yet that was the very thing he feared. He found humor in the dichotomy, needing her to see him but not wanting her to. That ability to laugh at himself was always there, but she was bringing it out stronger than ever. A good thing, he decided.

“When I signaled to Luther I was there, you knew where I was,” he changed the subject. He was genuinely curious. “How?” His birdcalls were so close to reality, he couldn’t imagine she could hear the difference.

A small frown flitted across her face. “Before I answer that, how did you know I was aware of you?”

This time Diego couldn’t resist smoothing that little frown line between her eyebrows. “You glanced up toward my location.”

“I did?” She sounded horrified. “If the enemy was watching, I could have given your position away. Or just tipped them off that help had arrived. That would have put your life in jeopardy.”

“It was extremely brief. First, I doubt anyone but me noticed. And second, they would have thought you were looking for their positions.”

She ducked her head. “Don’t make excuses for my mistake. That was a big one. Huge. You don’t do things like that in combat and jeopardize your allies.”

“Woman.” He brought their linked hands toward his mouth and then was unable to prevent himself from brushing a kiss over the back of her hand. “Stop. You didn’t give anything away. I had a weird, compulsive need to keep looking at you. I used my scope, not just enhanced vision. I could have given my position away if the sun had caught it.”

“You had a weird compulsion to look at me?” Once again, she turned the power of her large eyes on him. “That’s what it felt like? A compulsion?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t have stopped myself if I wanted to.” What difference did it make if he was honest with her? He had the feeling she would see inside him, no matter what he said or did, and he was adept at hiding in plain sight.

“Me either.” Her voice was so low he barely caught her admission, even with his acute hearing. “I didn’t hear any difference in the warning call from the bird. The notes were exact.”

“Almost,” he corrected. “Not sure anyone produces perfect birdcalls, but it’s as close as I can make them, practicing all the time. I started when I was a kid.” He pressed the back of her hand to his jaw. He needed a shave, and the stubble on his jaw scraped against her skin. She didn’t pull away from him.

“Diego?” She tilted her head back and then rested it against his shoulder. “I honestly think I would know where you were if you were within a mile of me. I think I could pinpoint your exact location. I have gifts, strong ones, but never anything like the awareness I have of you. It’s very strong.” She hesitated.

“Tell me. I’m choosing to be honest with you. This is all new for me, just like I suspect it is for you. New is alarming.”

“It’s more than the attraction being new for me. It’s the intensity of it. The quickness of it. I’m a loner. I wasn’t trained to be part of a unit. I was always sent out on my own, and I had no desire to be around the other soldiers. We were all training. My training was very specific, and I was always monitored, or I would have gotten away to look for my sister a lot sooner.”

“How did you find her? We track Whitney, and by the time we acquire his location, he moves, taking the women with him.”

Again, that little frown appeared. “I don’t know how I track people. Gut instinct? I just have some kind of built-in radar. If I follow it, I get results.”

“A gift, then. You’ve been enhanced.” He made it a statement.

“Physically. Genetically enhanced, but not psychically. The gifts I have are extremely strong, but the lab where they experiment on the volunteer soldiers doesn’t do the kinds of experiments Whitney does.”

“Were you ever around Whitney, even as a child?”

“No. They took Bridget to him. I heard them talking. I was combative and exhibited the ability to act independently, even as a young child. When they tested us, I tested high in the protective area. The lab wanted me and gave Bridget to Whitney. She was always much easier than I ever was. I questioned everything and had problems with authority. Bridget was sweet and loving.”

There was a note in her voice that told Diego that Leila had regrets. He understood what that was like. Children did and said things they shouldn’t, or didn’t do what they were told. Once they lost parents or siblings, there was no way to take back whatever was said or done.

Diego pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, needing to comfort her. He found it interesting that the compulsion was a need , not a want. She didn’t show her distress, but every instinct he had told him that little betraying note in her voice gave away her true feelings. It was odd that they had the same issues, both feeling it was their duty to protect their sibling.

He didn’t want Leila to ever feel that Bridget was more important than she was—but he knew she did. He felt that way about Rubin. His brother was the better man. There was nothing Luther could say to make him feel differently because he had grown up with Rubin. He knew the man was sensitive and compassionate. It wasn’t that Rubin never lost his temper—and when he did, he could annihilate everyone around him—it was just that it didn’t happen often and it was always justified. Diego thought of himself as cold as ice. Leila was anything but cold.

“Asking questions is a good trait to have. The more information, the better. I was a big proponent of asking questions until it was beaten out of me.” He said it matter-of-factly, using a casual tone. It was history. He didn’t dwell on it. But if he spoke it out loud, that door to his childhood creaked open and he felt the lash of the belt or the switch across his back, buttocks and legs.

He felt Leila’s instant, visceral response. Every muscle in her body tensed, and her breath exploded from her lungs. “Your parents beat you because you asked questions?”

His warrior woman had a hot temper. He’d have to remember that. “Yep.”

“Someone should have beat them so they could see how it felt,” she snapped.

He burst out laughing. It was the first time he could ever remember laughing over a dark memory. Her eyes widened.

“Diego.”

The softness in her voice created an intimacy between them. Without thinking, and he was a deliberate man, he caught her chin and brushed his lips over hers. He couldn’t have stopped himself if someone put a gun to his head. The compulsion—the need—was too strong. The touch of her soft mouth was electric. Hot sparks of desire flashed down his spine. Leapt through his bloodstream. He lifted his head, shocked at his reaction to that brief touch. He’d kissed before, too many times, but nothing could have prepared him for the heady reality of simply brushing his lips against hers. She tasted like wild strawberries. She tasted like his.

She lifted her long lashes, and once again, he was falling into those emerald pools. “What was that?”

“I figured if you didn’t want me kissing you, if you didn’t like it, you’d use that knife that’s right there next to your hand.”

A faint smile curved her lips. “Guess I liked it. You’re still alive.”