With the echo of the fading footsteps running down the alley, she watched the lion charge at her. But what she didn't understand was why everything was spinning. Round and round the world goes, where it lands nobody knows. Her mind created the singsong words in her head to go with the light-headed feeling washing over her. Just when she was about to get used to the light-headedness, black spots started popping off like firecrackers in her vision.

The last thing Della remembered was falling against the big beast and thinking that even as a lion, Steve smelled like some spicy male soap.

* * *

Della felt someone lift her head up.

Then she heard a male voice with a Southern accent as sexy as the voice was deep. "You either wake up and drink this or I'm going to have to call Burnett. You hear me? Wake up, sweetheart."

Sweetheart? Della lifted her eyelids and looked up at the dark-haired, soft brown-eyed guy sitting next to her on the huge bed. He had one hand behind her head and the other holding a cup up to her mouth. It took her a second to realize who he was. It took another one for her to remember everything.

The mission.

The vampires.

The weres.

Steve's kiss.

Oh, yeah, she remembered Steve's kiss.

"Thank heavens," he muttered when he saw her looking at him. "Can you drink?" He pressed the cup to her lips. "Just a couple of sips."

The sweet smell of blood filled her nose and she opened her mouth and sipped. It tasted so good, she took another sip.

Steve lowered her head on the pillow that was so soft it practically swallowed her head. She glanced up at his smile.

"I think you need to drink more, but we'll give you a few minutes," he said.

The silky feel of the sheets against her bare back and the soft pillow surrounding her head told her two things. One, they weren't back at the cabin, and two, she was practically naked.

She moved her gaze around and took in what appeared to be a fancy hotel room. Then she reached down to the sheet that covered her chest and lifted it up an inch to check for clothes.

Yup, naked. Well, practically naked. She still had on her red silk panties. And a bandage over her wound.

She dropped the sheet down against her chest and frowned up at him.

"Where are my clothes?"

"I threw them in the bathtub and rinsed them just in case any weres or other vamps were around. Didn't want them to smell you."

How could she argue with that? She couldn't. Well, she could, not every argument had to be based in logic, but face it, she was too tired to argue a logical point much less an illogical one.

"Ready for some more blood?" He held the cup out.

She wanted to say no, but she knew the blood was the only thing that would help her. Leaning up on her elbow, or trying to, she slipped back into the pillow. She looked up into his soft, concerned eyes and felt ... she felt naked, weak, and vulnerable. This was so not her best day.

He reached down and helped her sit up. She felt the sheet slip down and she barely managed to catch it before it exposed her breasts. He held the cup to her lips and she sipped.

When he pulled the cup away, he smiled at her again-all sweet like. He wasn't even looking at her like she was naked under the sheet like most boys would. He was smiling at her like ... like she was someone he cared about.

Definitely not her best day.

She didn't want him to start caring. Because then she might start caring about him. That was dangerous.

Closing her eyes, she leaned back and in few minutes she felt sleep claim her.

Chapter Six

Della felt a tickle against her temple and went to wipe it away. Then the tickle hit the back of her hand.

Her eyes popped open with a start. The tickle was someone's breath, easy in and easy out, wisps of air.

And that someone was Steve.

Steve, asleep in bed with her. Steve, on his side, sharing her pillow.

Steve, not even the least bit ugly, with dark long lashes resting against his upper cheek. His equally dark brown hair lay scattered across his brow.

Asleep, he looked younger, except for his five o'clock shadow. She tried to remember if she'd felt any of that stubble when he'd kissed her last night at the restaurant. She hadn't. But she wanted to run her fingers across his chin now.

Her gaze shifted downward to her chest, to her not-so-big boobs. The sheet had slipped down around her waist.

Frowning, she snatched the sheet up and wondered if Steve had been privy to the view before he'd fallen asleep. Of course he had, she realized, he'd been the one to remove her bra and play doctor when he dressed her wound. A depressing thought hit. Had he been disappointed that she wasn't bigger?

She stared at the two slight mounds now pushing against the sheet-finding a bit of hope that they were a little bigger than they used to be. In the last few months, she'd actually started to fill out a B cup. Not that she aspired to get to a C cup like Miranda and Kylie. But a full B or B+ would be nice.

She glanced to her left side and lowered the sheet just a bit to see her bandage. It didn't look like a half-assed job. Shifting her shoulder, she realized it must have healed, because there wasn't even the slightest amount of pain. Then she looked at her arm where another bandage was.

She vaguely remembered Steve waking her up and making her drink blood two or three times. She also recalled him telling her yesterday that his mom was a doctor. Was he considering becoming a doctor himself? He should. The boy had what it took.

Reaching up, she loosened the bandage below her shoulder blade to see the wound. The cut still showed, but it was close to being healed.