Unfortunately, kissing Shaw was like slipping back into her old patterns. Even worse, the cat had a Pride she had to worry about. Cheetahs, leopards, even tigers were mostly loners. Yet Pride females were real protective about their Breeding Males.

Of course, how protective could they be when they hadn’t even shown up at the hospital? Mace had told her Shaw must be on his way out if they didn’t bother to check on him. Apparently he’d bred two healthy cubs with a couple of the Llewellyn females and that’s pretty much all they wanted or needed from him.

“Nice,” she muttered out loud, feeling bad for Shaw.

She spent a few moments wallowing in his misery—apparently her own wasn’t enough—when she felt his extremely hot breath against her neck. Ronnie Lee sat up straight and slowly turned her head. He’d shifted back to lion. It amazed her how many times a body could shift while going through the fever. She’d lost count of how many Shaw had gone through. Shame there was no way to control it. Maybe then Ronnie wouldn’t have one of the biggest cats in the world staring at her like a slab of prime rib.

That’s what she got for sitting around her aunt’s kitchen feeling sorry for herself. She never even heard the big bastard come into the suddenly very tiny room.

“Why are you out of bed? Are you trying to irritate me?”

He stared at her for several long seconds, then his enormous tongue came out of his mouth and slashed her from chin to forehead.

“Oh! Dammit.” She wiped at her face, disgusted. “Don’t do that.”

Shaw took a step closer and nuzzled her under the chin, his massive gold and brown mane going right up her nose.

Trying to push him away but unable to see with all that damn cat fur in her face, “Bed! Go back to bed!”

“Come with me.”

Startled, Ronnie Lee opened her eyes and found Shaw had shifted yet again. Now he kneeled naked and so damn gorgeous in front of her.

Ronnie never thought she’d go for these gold guys. They were perfectly tanned without all that messy skin cancer concern. Not an ounce of fat on that body. His face…perfect. Even with all the bruises and still healing lacerations, the man was so damn beautiful.

“Come to bed with me, sexy,” he purred in her ear. “I promise…”

She waited for more. With none forthcoming, she had to ask, “You promise what?”

“Anything you want.” His head dipped a bit, and his beautiful gold eyes seared through her. “Absolutely anything.”

Lord, help her.

Taking his hand, Ronnie stood up. “Come on,” she coaxed. “Let’s get to bed.”

He purred and followed.

Brendon woke up back in the room he’d found himself in five minutes ago…or was it five hours? To be honest, he was no longersure. It didn’t matter. He needed to get up and face the day…or was it night? Whatever.

Trying to sit up, Brendon quickly realized someone had bound his arms and legs to the four-poster bed.

“What the fuck?”

“Oh, look. The idiot of the jungle awakens.”

Brendon blinked, trying to focus on the woman talking to him. She stood at the end of the bed, arms crossed under her breasts, glaring at him as if he’d shot her dog.

“Where am I?”

“Westbury.”

Voice cracking, he yelped, “Long Island?” Why the hell would he be on Long Island?

“It was the only safe place I could think of.”

Brendon nodded, quickly deciding not to care where he was as long as this female was with him. “Fair enough.” He tugged at the ropes. “Think you can let me go now?”

Without a word, she walked around so she stood on his right side. Her hand slapped hard against his forehead.

“Ow.”

“You’re still feverish. Probably at the tail end, but I ain’t takin’ any more chances with you. I think I’ve chased enough lions around New York today. So you’ll stay put until that fever ends.”

Man, talk about pissed. He didn’t know what he did wrong, but he didn’t want her to be mad at him.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For whatever I did that pissed you off.”

Finally, she gave a grudging smile. “Well, at least you don’t try and bullshit your way out of things.”

Brendon glanced around the room. He didn’t know where he was or how he got here. All he had to anchor him during all this was this woman and her wonderful scent. “What day is it?” Something told him it was an important day.

“December twenty-fifth.”

Wincing, Brendon stared up at her. That explains the whole pissed thing. “It’s Christmas?” She gave a brief nod. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re stuck here with me and not with your Pack.”

Her face softened a bit at that and, to his surprise, she sat on the bed next to him, her head resting against his outstretched arm. Damn, but the woman smelled so freakin’ good.

“Don’t let it bother you none.” She patted his knee, then her eyes narrowed and she glared at him. “And would you control that thing, please.”

Brendon glanced down at his lap. His cock pushed hard and demanding against the sole white sheet covering him from waist to toes.

“That is not my fault.” He grinned. “That’s your fault.”

“It is not my fault. You have no self-control.”

“You were the one who touched me intimately.”