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 longer sure. 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."

"I patted your knee."

"See? Intimate."

She laughed and shook her head. Baby-soft brown hair brushed his arm. "You're an idiot."

"Sometimes." Brendon relaxed back, letting his arms hang a bit so they didn't get tired. "Look, I really appreciate everything you've done for me tonight. I know it wasn't easy."

She shrugged like she'd taken care of hopped-up-on-fever lions every day of the week.

"I guess I owe you a Christmas present, huh?" he asked.

"A Christmas present? For little ol' me? What would you get me?"

"What do you want?"

She snuggled in a bit closer to him, and he threatened his cock with bodily harm if it even thought about rearing up again. She-wolves didn't snuggle up to just anybody, and he didn't want to scare her off.

"Let's see-rich guy asking me what I want for Christmas." She squinted at him. "You are rich, right? You're not living off those Pride females, are ya?"

Not in this lifetime. "No. I'm not living off them."

"Oh, well then, that opens up so many possibilities. I've always wanted a Maserati."

"A Maserati? Little tall for that, aren't you?"

She turned glittering hazel eyes his way. "And what does that mean?"

"That you're tall. Maybe too tall for the car."

"That better be all you mean," she muttered.

"No, I'm sure your feet can fit in there fine."

"Now see! There it is. We are not to discuss my feet." They both glanced down at the cowboy boots resting on the bed. Christ, those feet were big. But those boots she had on were sexy as hell. "They get me where I need to go."

"How could they not?"

"You do understand I have no problem leaving your naked ass out on the road."

"I understand."

"So you be nice to me."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now you are gettin' me that Maserati. And jewelry. From that blue box place."

Brendon forced himself to frown so he wouldn't laugh instead. "Do you mean Tiffany?"

"Yeah. That place. I want diamonds and platinum. Necklaces and bracelets should do me fine."

"You don't really seem like the jewelry-wearing type." She didn't even have on earrings.

"I'm not. But I can sell it and put the cash in the bank." She looked at him. "It seems wrong just to take cold hard cash from you."

"I'm glad you have a moral standing."

"I do. I haven't killed you yet. Although it's crossed my mind several times this evening."

"Thank you for not killing me."

"You know, you could forget about the car and jewelry if you did me one little favor."

"Which is?"

"The next time you see a Pack, you don't think to yourself 'Hey, look at them dogs.' You think, 'Ahh. Wolves. The mightiest of the mighty. The bravest of the brave.'"

"I'd really rather buy you the car...and an island."

She poked her elbow into his side; a lesser man would have definitely grunted from pain. "Bigot."

"Cat hater."

She laughed and Brendon nuzzled her neck with his nose. "You smell good."

Swatting at his face as if he were a wasp, "Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. You're not helping me keep my semblance of cool control."

"Why would I?"

"Typical."

He shrugged as best he could in his bindings. "I like you. I don't feel bad cause I like you."

"You don't like me. Your fever likes me. I know once you're through this you'll go back to being an asshole cat." Leaning close to him, her lips near his, "And won't that be the fun morning-after for me."

"We can deal with the morning-after later. Let's talk about the here and now."

"Forget it, Garfield." She made to slip off the bed and his strength surged powerful and strong. He snapped the rope binding on his left arm and quickly grabbed her arm, holding her in place.

"Don't go."

"I knew I should have used the chains my aunt has in her basement. Why she has those chains I don't wanna know." She grabbed his hand and tried to pry his fingers off. "Now if you'll get your dirty cat paws off me-"

With a short growl, Brendon snapped the rest of his bindings and had her under him in seconds.

To be quite honest, nothing had ever felt so right before in his entire life.

Once again she had to ask herself, How do you get yourself into these situations?

True, she never should have sat so close, but he'd seemed quite lucid and she liked talking to him. There were few outside her Pack or family she had any interest in actually having a conversation with.

It definitely didn't help that she really liked this man being between her legs. She liked it way more than she should.

Big fingers dug into her scalp and then massaged. Without meaning to, she growled, her body immediately responding. In fact, if the bastard moved two inches lower, he'd find her happy spot and her leg would start shaking. How embarrassing would that be?

"You...you need to stop." And I need to stop panting. And moaning.

"I don't wanna stop." Those incredibly soft lips skimmed across her cheek. "And I don't think you want me to stop."