Rio moved closer to her, his mouth once more twisting into a frown. “You’re sweating.” His palm settled on her forehead. “Donot get an infection. We’re stuck here without help for the duration of the storm.”

“I’ll make sure I follow your orders, Rio, because I have the power to determine that, you know.”

Rachael’s gaze followed the path of the knife as it moved close to her. “If you don’t let me help you now, I don’t think I’m going to be able to at all.” Her voice was funny, tinny and far away. “That awful leech is going to just stay there, getting high on your blood. Maybe it’s a girl leech and she’s going to have babies and they’ll all live on your back, sucking your blood. A little leech community. How perfectly lovely.”

He muttered something under his breath.

“And don’t swear at me or I’m going to cry. I’m doing my best here and you aren’t giving me anything to work with.”

His fingers were gentle in her hair even though he didn’t mean to touch her. “Don’t you dare cry.” The thought was mor e alarming than someone coming at him with a gun. Her tears might turn him inside out. “The morphine is wearing off, isn’t it? I didn’t give you very much because I was afraid you’d go into shock.”

A small humorless laugh escaped. She sounded on the verge of hysteria. “I am in shock. I think I lost my mind. I thought you turned into a leopard and tried to rip my throat out.”

He slipped the tip of the knife between his back and the leech, flicked it to the floor and hastily disposed of it. “Leopards don’t rip throats out. They bite the throat and suffocate their prey.” He dipped a cloth into a cool bowl of water and sponged her face. “They’re tidy killers.”

“Thanks for the infor mation. I wouldn’t want to think my death would be a messy one.”

Rio was uncomfortably aware of her gaze studying his face. Her eyes were large, too old for the rest of her. There was something sad in the dark depths that tugged at his heart. Her lashes were incredibly long, spiky from her tears. He actually felt as if he were falling forward into the depths of them, a corny and totally ridiculous notion he was impatient with. His heart began to pound in his chest. Anticipating

—what, he didn’t know. He deliberately wiped the cloth over her eyes, a gentle stroke to save himself from falling under her spell.

“Are you always this sarcastic, or should I put it down to you being in considerable pain?”

Rachael tried to laugh but it came out a gasping sob. “I swear it feels like my leg is on fire.”

“It’s swelling. I’m going to give you a little more painkiller and splint that wrist for you.” Rio’s fingers trailed in her hair, a thick mass of silk. There was a strange color surrounding her body, like a shadow that wouldn’t go away. No matter how many times he blinked, or swept his hand over his eyes to clear his vision, the strange surrounding color remained.

“I think you need to take care of yourself,” Rachael said, her gaze drifting over his face. He had the physical sensation of fingers touching him lightly in a caress. She didn’t seem to notice the effect she had on him, and he was grateful.

“You look tired. I honestly can’t even feel my wrist at the moment, although I think a painkiller is a good idea. Maybe a huge dose of painkiller.” Rachael tried to smile at him, tried to make it a joke. If he didn’t find something to stop the pain she was going to ask him to knock her out. He had a big enough fist.

She was shaking beneath the blanket, a sure sign of fever. He had packed the wound with antibiotics ear lier, but it obviously wasn’t going to be enough. Rio shook pills into his hand and helped her lift her head to swallow them. She pressed her teeth together, but a small sound, much like that of a wounded animal, escaped. “I’m sorry, I know it hurts, but you have to get these down.” If she had come there to kill him, he was making a hell of a fool of himself, but it didn’t matter to him. He had to remove the desperation from her eyes. She looked so helpless it twisted his gut into hard little knots. He gave her another small dose of morphine along with the antibiotics and waited until her eyes clouded over before splinting her wrist. Her skin was hot, but he didn’t dare leave his own wounds much longer or they both would be in trouble.

Rachael felt herself drifting away. The pain was there; she didn’t want to squirm around and provoke it, but she could handle the intensity floating above it. Rio moved away from her with his curious animal grace. He intrigued her. Everything about him intrigued her. She couldn’t keep from staring at him, although she tried to think of other things. The wind. The rain. Leopards leaping at her throat.

Her lashes drif ted down. She listened to the rain and shivered. Before she had been burning up; now she felt inexplicably cold. The sound of the rain driving down on the rooftop added to her discomfort.

She couldn’t hear him moving around the house. It wasn’t that the storm drowned out the sounds, he was simply that quiet. Like a great jungle cat.

Three

Rachael forced her eyes open to keep him in sight. She felt dreamy,disconnected with reality. Rio stood several feet from her, close to the stove. Casually hooking his thumbs in his wet jeans, he eased them from his hips, slowly exposing his firm buttocks and his long, muscular back to her. She tried not to gawk as he washed up, using hot water from the stove. He was thorough about it, his muscles flexing as he worked. He reminded her of the statues she’d seen in Greece, the defined muscles and well-