Rio sauntered fully into the room, totally nude but as confident as if he were wearing a three-piece suit. “I’m not about to let anything happen to you, Rachael. I should have closed the door when you were alone in the house, but I was right outside.” His gaze moved over her face, a moody, edgy examination. “Were you trying to get out of bed?”

She forced a soft laugh. “Rachael to the rescue. I was going to put the leopard in a choke hold if it attacked you.”

He stared at her for a long moment before a slow smile spread across his face. Her heart did a funny little flip.

“What a thought, Rachael. I have this visual of you wrestling with a leopard and it’s enough to turn my hair gray.”

She loved his hair. Shaggy and untamed but shiny clean, like silk. “Rio, put some clothes on. Honestly, you’re making life very difficult for me.”

“Because I’m always in a state of arousal around you?” His words were low, velvet soft. The impact was physical. Her body simply dissolved into liquid heat.

She couldn’t help but see him—unashamed, natural, alone. He looked so alone standing there like a Greek god, a statue of the perfect male, with roped muscles and penetrating eyes and a sinful mouth.

She wanted to be feeling absolute lust. Nothing else, just good old-fashioned lust. A fling that would burn hot and burn out leaving only ashes and good wishes and freedom behind. It didn’t help that she’d been dreaming strange, passionate dreams about making wild love with him.

How did she know she could drive him mad by simply running her fingertips up his thigh? How did she know his eyes would change, gleam like bright emeralds, hot and bright, consuming her with desire? She had seen tears in his eyes. She had heard his voice husky with passion. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, to free herself from the strange memories that were hers… yet not hers.

“While I’ll admit you’re more than tempting, and distracting, I’m not in shape to feel very sexy, Rio.”

It was a blatant lie. Rachael had never felt sexier in her life. She sighed heavily. “It scares me when you go off like that. I’m really afraid something might happen to you. It’s not like I’m in any shape to go charging to the rescue.”

Rio could only stare in silence. Her admission made him feel helpless and vulnerable. No one worried about him. No one cared that much if he made it back to his house at night. He fully expected to die in a fight someday and he doubted if more than a handful of men would mourn his passing, and that would be a brief salute to his marksman abilities. Rachael looked at him with the world shining in her eyes. A gift. A treasure. And he was certain she was completely unaware of it.

“I’m sorry I frightened you, Rachael,” he murmured softly and shut the door on the night—closed the door on his freedom. “I had some things to think about. I went for a run.”

“Yes, well, while you were gone, we had a little visit from your friendly neighborhood leopard.

Fortunately it was on its best behavior so I didn’t shoot it. You may notice I’m choosing humor and bravado rather than classic hysteria. Although I thought long and hard about the hysteria.”

He could feel the grin forming. It started in his gut and spread warmth through his body. “I appreciate the sacrifice. I’m not certain what I’d do with hysteria. It may be beyond my coping abilities.”

“I seriously doubt anything is beyond your coping abilities. Did I upset you earlier? Is that why you couldn’t sleep?”

Rio crossed to the basin as he always did after his nightly disappearances, his muscles flowing like water as he moved through the house without a whisper of sound. He remembered to light a candle, knowing she liked the scent of it. The flame flickered and set shadows dancing on the wall. “I thought a lot about what you said, that I wasn’t willing to tell you about myself. Maybe you were right. I love the way you look at me. I haven’t ever had anyone look at me the way that you do. It’s hard to think of giving that up, or taking a chance of never seeing it again because you won’t look at me the same way after I talk to you about who and what I really am.”

She always did the unexpected. Rachael laughed softly. “And you must have forgotten who you’re talking to, Rio. The woman with the million-dollar price on her head. Has it occurred to you, I’m a pariah in society?”

“I know exactly whom I’m talking to,” he said.

Rachael stretched her leg out in front of her, careful not to jar it. She had to use both hands, even the broken one, in order to ease her leg fully off the bed. Blood rushed, causing pins and needles to add to the throbbing pain. That immediately drew his attention. Rio half turned, a small frown on his face.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Just stretching. I thought you could make me one of those drinks. I’m getting addicted to them. What do you put in them, anyway? Just for future reference, you understand.” She straightened her shirt, pulled at the tails to try to cover her bare thighs. The edges were gaping open over her breasts and she awkwardly tr ied to button it with one hand.

Rio dragged on a pair of jeans before crossing over to the bed. “The drink is made from fruit nectar and whatever fruit I happen to harvest that morning.” He hunkered down beside her and reached for the edges of the shirt—his shirt. It looked completely different on her. His knuckles brushed her full breasts. He could feel warmth and velvet-soft flesh. His knuckles lingered, deliberately rubbed gently.