Blayne couldn’t believe how amazing this was, and it was only a kiss.

They had to stop. He had to stop. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop. Not when she tasted so wonderful, felt so good against him. He’d been waiting ten years for this, and he didn’t want to waste another second. But they weren’t in his house or her itty-bitty Brooklyn apartment. They were in the Ursus County Memorial Hospital, with the risk of nurses and doctors—good God! Or his uncle or Dr. Luntz!—wandering in whenever they damn well felt like it.

He pulled out of their kiss, his eyes shut tight because he knew he couldn’t look into those big brown eyes. “Blayne, we have to stop.”

Instead of stopping, she reached down and grabbed hold of his cock, her grip squeezing and stroking at the same time.

Vixen! Evil, cruel vixen!

“You need to”—he shuddered—“stop.”

She kissed his neck, jaw, mouth. “Don’t want to.” She pressed her mouth to his ear. “I want to watch you come.”

His eyes crossed and Bo knew he was running out of willpower here. They both knew it. One more stroke from her hand and he was a goner, not stopping until she was pregnant and wearing a wedding ring.

Knowing full well this was not a good time to make life-altering decisions; Bo did the one thing he knew would stop Blayne. He said, “Blayne . . . I saw you.”

“Saw me where?” she asked, nipping at his shoulder.

“In the van. I saw what you did in the van.”

Her lips and hand stopped moving and, slowly, Blayne leaned back to look into his face.

“Oh,” she said. “Okay.” Then she bolted.

Bo caught her arm and hauled Blayne back on the bed. “Don’t run on me,” he ordered.

Of course she was going to run. Did he really expect her to stay? But his grip was firm and he was one of the few who Blayne didn’t think would be affected by her Windmill Claws of Mauling technique.

So she did the next best thing. She lied. “I don’t remember anything,” she said. Her father, always a planner for the inevitable, had told her that could be her excuse in almost any awkward situation. And this was awkward.

“Are you worried I’ll tell?” he asked, brushing the fingers of his free hand against her cheek.

Tell, have me put down . . . whatever.

“I won’t tell what I saw, Blayne. I’ll never tell. It’s our secret.”

She wanted to believe him but—

“I promise.” He gripped her chin and forced her to look him in the eye. She’d had no idea she’d looked away. “I swear to you I’ll never say a word.”

“It was Daddy,” she blurted. “After what happened to Mom . . . he wanted to make sure I could—”

“Defend yourself.I’m glad. I’m glad he did that.”

She gave a panic-tinged laugh. “It wasn’t him, though. Who taught me, I mean. Daddy’s not the best fighter as human. Except in a general brawling, biker gang sense. But he has a lot of friends. From the Unit, the Corps, the Navy . . . and a couple of wild dog friends of my mom’s who were in the Israeli Army.” She chewed her lip, her body shaking. “Only Gwenie knows.”

“Not a word, Blayne. Not from me. Not ever.”

She swallowed and took a breath. She realized that like Gwen, Bo understood what could happen if he did tell. Wolfdogs were considered unstable and dangerous. Add in well-trained abilities with weapons and that fear from other shifters doubled. Some pure-bred shifters wouldn’t care. The ones who’d trained her never had. But there were others . . . others who’d make it their goal to wipe her from the planet.

That wasn’t Bo. That would never be Bo. He’d keep her secret. She knew that.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him, her speeding heart returning to its more normal rate.

Bo hugged her back, his hands rubbing against her back.

After she stopped shaking, Blayne moved off. Hot and kinky ideas about sex wiped clean, she took hold of his cast-covered arm. “How’s the arm? Really?”

Bo felt around the cast with his free hand. After a moment, he ripped into it with his claw, easily destroying the plaster. He wiped off any clinging material and moved his arm around a bit. “It feels good. Won’t really know, though, until I get back on the ice.”

“I’m up to heading back later today, if you are?”

“Good.” His hand cupped her chin. “We’ve got some unfinished business to get to.”

She felt a sharp thrill, knowing he wanted her. “Yeah. We do.”

“Besides, I don’t want to spend any longer here than I have to.”

“Why?” He made a sound and Blayne asked, “Did you just grunt at me?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“The grunting or why you don’t want to be here? Because I have more concerns over you grunting at me.”

“Blayne.”

“Is that your getting-tough-with-me tone?”

He shrugged. “Kinda.”

“It’s pretty weak. You’re tougher when we’re training.” She poked at his wounded shoulder with her finger. “Does that hurt?”

“No.”

Blayne went up on her knees, placed her hand over his mouth with one hand and yanked the bandage off with the other. Bo roared in agony, but she ignored all that to get a closer look at the damage. “They’ll need to take these stitches out before we leave.”