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the couch.

She reached out to find Brady, but before she touched him, strong, warm fingers circled her wrist and puled back.

“Kish. What’s wrong with you? Brady’s wound needs to be cleaned.”

“I’l get the stuff, and he can do it himself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“He. Can. Do. It. Himself.” Kish’s words were low and laced with warning.

“What is your problem? I’m not a child, and I can make my own decisions.”

“I don’t want you to touch him, Georgia.”

“Kish, you have done nothing but help me since I met you, and I don’t want to seem disrespectful or ungrateful for that, but you are realy pissing me off.

Unless you can give me a realy good explanation why I should not help Brady, I’m going to do so. He is a felow human being in need of help. Now please get the supplies I asked for if you have them so we can get him taken care of before his injury becomes infected.”

Her cheeks heated, but not with embarrassment.

Her annoyance was rising to the surface, and she was finding it hard to understand why Kish didn’t want her to help Brady. He didn’t move or say a word. Finaly, after several minutes, she put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot in agitation.

“Wel?”

Kish sighed. “Fine. But don’t touch him until I get back.”

“Touchy, huh?” Brady snorted.

Georgia frowned. “Yeah. I guess.”

Although Kish had never seemed that way to her until now, but she kept having to remind herself that she’d only known him for a few hours. Why did he seem upset about her helping Brady? She wasn’t sure, but she’d ask him about it later.

Only a couple minutes passed before Kish was back. When she bent in front of Brady to tend his injury, Kish knelt beside her and shoved the bowl of water into her hands while he went to work on the wound.

“Son of a bi—beach, bro. Take it easy,” Brady grunted.

Kish didn’t say a word in response, and Georgia could nearly feel the tension and heat steaming off of him. She’d been wrapped up in his response to her being near Brady and had almost missed the strange scent permeating the air. It was nothing she’d ever smeled before with a hint of the wildness she now associated with Kish.

She simply shrugged it off with Kish, but now that she’d met two men in the span of a few hours that had a scent she’d never smeled before, she began to think on it a little more. The scent was vaguely familiar, yet she couldn’t place it. She racked her brain while Kish continued tending to Brady’s injury.

Just when he’d finished, it hit her. The only time she’d smeled anything close to what she detected on Kish and now Brady was at her one trip to the zoo several years ago. Particularly the predator section that housed the lions, tigers, and wolves and such.

But why in the heck would Kish and Brady have such a scent? Yet another thing she would be questioning Kish about later.

Kish took the bowl from her and helped her stand before walking away probably to discard the water and other stuff he’d tended to Brady’s injury with.

She sat down on the couch next to Brady.

“Better not sit too close. Your boyfriend might hurt me.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Could have fooled me.”

She frowned.

“Aw. Don’t look so confused. It’s obvious he has a thing for you. And hel, who could blame him? You are beautiful.”

She felt heat rush to her cheeks. “Thank you. I’m sorry you got hurt by the way.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“I hope you feel better soon.”

“Again, me too, but thank you. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you go blind?”

The question she’d been asked numerous times didn’t phase her. “I was born without my sight. For some reason, my optic nerves did not form properly.”

“Bummer.”

She giggled. “Not realy. You can’t miss something you’ve never had. I have adjusted fine. I don’t feel any different from anyone else.”

Brady admired the woman sitting next to him for her spunk and determination. While she was probably right in thinking that she was no different from anyone else—anyone else being your average, everyday Joe —she would be considered seriously handicapped to his species, hel, any shifter species. Being blind and a predator didn’t mix. His keen sight had saved his ass as many times as his amplified sense of smel and hearing.

If she were lost in the woods, she’d be a sitting duck waiting for a predator to pluck her, hel, inviting a predator to pluck her. A twinge of guilt tickled his gut. And he was the predator that was going to do that plucking.

He scowled. When he’d started down this path, he’d felt no remorse. The woman had been a mere means to getting his sister back, a bargaining chip.

But now she had a name, a beautiful face, and a kind heart. He’d never been a violent man. Had never kiled unless necessary, and while he wouldn’t be the one actualy kiling Georgia, he had no doubt that’s what would end up happening to her once he made the trade.

He was going to wilingly put her into the hands of the rogues that had kidnapped his sister. The beasts that had found Georgia only a week earlier. Two days ago he hadn’t been dumped by a woman. Hel, he’d never been dumped by a woman. He wasn’t a pompous ass, but he knew how to please women, and to be fair, he didn’t usualy stick around long enough to be dumped. Long-term relationships were not his thing.

Two days ago, his sister had been kidnapped right out from under his nose. The lycans had come to him the same night they’d taken her, told him the only way he’d see her alive again was if he brought Georgia to them.

They’d apparently been folowing her, waiting for just the right moment to nab her. When that moment had finaly come, Kish had showed up and foiled

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