had ever given him a present before. No one.
He started to push himself up, only to have Maggie stop him.
"You shouldn't move."
The concern on her face tore at him. "It's okay."
"No." She gestured to the bandage, where a red spot was forming again. "See, you're
bleeding. Should I call someone?"
He shook his head. "I'll heal."
Her beautiful brown eyes castigated and doubted him. "I can't believe you didn't tell me
you were shot last night. What if you had died?"
He snorted at that. "I've been shot enough to know when it's not fatal."
Marguerite gave him a stunned look. Was he serious? With him she was never quite
sure. He tossed things out at her in passing conversations that would be horrifying if they
were true, and the bland way he spoke of them led her to believe that they just might be.
"Shot by whom?"
He didn't respond to her question as he propped himself up in the bed. His dreads fell
back into his eyes, obscuring his face from her view. She was beginning to suspect that he
did that on purpose so that he could watch the world while no one could watch him.
Even so, she saw a small bead of sweat fall down the side of his face from the strain of
being awake. "I won't stay long," she said, handing him the bag in her hands.
He stared at it as if it were an alien being. It was actually rather comical. One would
think the man had never been given a gift before.
"What's this?" he asked.
"Open it."
She thought he might be frowning as he picked up the tissue paper on top and held it to
his face. He seemed to be savoring it…
"What are you doing?" she asked with a frown.
Without responding, he set the paper aside, then reached in and pulled out the gray
sweatshirt inside. She smiled at his confusion.
"I know you said you're taking classes at UNO, but I couldn't bring myself to put a
pirate on you. I saw the LSU tiger shirt in a store and had to buy it. I know it's weird, but
I've always had a thing for tigers and I thought it'd look good on you."
He cocked his head to the side as if completely perplexed or intrigued by her words.
"Thank you, Maggie."
The sound of that nickname on his lips brought a shiver to her. She loved the way he
said it—sure, deep, and protective. It was almost like an endearment.
"So is there anything I can do for you?" she asked.
Wren stiffened at her question, in more than one way. The one thing he wanted from
her was the one thing he could never ask—to have her naked in his bed. And that added a
deep, inexplicable burning to his chest. "I'm fine."
"You sure? I could get—"
"Aimee?" he called, interrupting her.
The door opened instantly to show him the bear-swan. She passed a quick look
between them as she drew near the bed.
"She needs to leave," Wren told her.
Aimee nodded, then reached for Maggie.
She shrugged off Aimee's touch. "Wren…"
"I need to rest, Maggie. Please."
Marguerite hesitated at the strain she heard in his voice. How could she argue with that?
He was in extreme pain because he had saved her life when most men would have turned
the other way and not bothered.
"Okay." She moved back toward the bed and leaned down to kiss him lightly on the
cheek.
Wren couldn't breathe as desire roared through him. It was all he could do to not pull
her into his bed...
Before he could think better of it, he caught her head as she started to pull away and
pulled her lips to his. He growled at the sweet taste of her. At the softness of her lips under
his. It was the first time in his life he'd ever tasted a woman, but even so he couldn't
imagine any woman tasting better than this one. She was incredible.
Maggie's lips were soft and decadent. They awoke a fierce hunger inside him that
craved nothing but her. It was a hunger that both scared and thrilled him in a way he would
never have thought possible.
He shouldn't feel this. Not for a human. Not for anyone.
God save them both from his ragged emotions.
Marguerite moaned as she tasted
He started to push himself up, only to have Maggie stop him.
"You shouldn't move."
The concern on her face tore at him. "It's okay."
"No." She gestured to the bandage, where a red spot was forming again. "See, you're
bleeding. Should I call someone?"
He shook his head. "I'll heal."
Her beautiful brown eyes castigated and doubted him. "I can't believe you didn't tell me
you were shot last night. What if you had died?"
He snorted at that. "I've been shot enough to know when it's not fatal."
Marguerite gave him a stunned look. Was he serious? With him she was never quite
sure. He tossed things out at her in passing conversations that would be horrifying if they
were true, and the bland way he spoke of them led her to believe that they just might be.
"Shot by whom?"
He didn't respond to her question as he propped himself up in the bed. His dreads fell
back into his eyes, obscuring his face from her view. She was beginning to suspect that he
did that on purpose so that he could watch the world while no one could watch him.
Even so, she saw a small bead of sweat fall down the side of his face from the strain of
being awake. "I won't stay long," she said, handing him the bag in her hands.
He stared at it as if it were an alien being. It was actually rather comical. One would
think the man had never been given a gift before.
"What's this?" he asked.
"Open it."
She thought he might be frowning as he picked up the tissue paper on top and held it to
his face. He seemed to be savoring it…
"What are you doing?" she asked with a frown.
Without responding, he set the paper aside, then reached in and pulled out the gray
sweatshirt inside. She smiled at his confusion.
"I know you said you're taking classes at UNO, but I couldn't bring myself to put a
pirate on you. I saw the LSU tiger shirt in a store and had to buy it. I know it's weird, but
I've always had a thing for tigers and I thought it'd look good on you."
He cocked his head to the side as if completely perplexed or intrigued by her words.
"Thank you, Maggie."
The sound of that nickname on his lips brought a shiver to her. She loved the way he
said it—sure, deep, and protective. It was almost like an endearment.
"So is there anything I can do for you?" she asked.
Wren stiffened at her question, in more than one way. The one thing he wanted from
her was the one thing he could never ask—to have her naked in his bed. And that added a
deep, inexplicable burning to his chest. "I'm fine."
"You sure? I could get—"
"Aimee?" he called, interrupting her.
The door opened instantly to show him the bear-swan. She passed a quick look
between them as she drew near the bed.
"She needs to leave," Wren told her.
Aimee nodded, then reached for Maggie.
She shrugged off Aimee's touch. "Wren…"
"I need to rest, Maggie. Please."
Marguerite hesitated at the strain she heard in his voice. How could she argue with that?
He was in extreme pain because he had saved her life when most men would have turned
the other way and not bothered.
"Okay." She moved back toward the bed and leaned down to kiss him lightly on the
cheek.
Wren couldn't breathe as desire roared through him. It was all he could do to not pull
her into his bed...
Before he could think better of it, he caught her head as she started to pull away and
pulled her lips to his. He growled at the sweet taste of her. At the softness of her lips under
his. It was the first time in his life he'd ever tasted a woman, but even so he couldn't
imagine any woman tasting better than this one. She was incredible.
Maggie's lips were soft and decadent. They awoke a fierce hunger inside him that
craved nothing but her. It was a hunger that both scared and thrilled him in a way he would
never have thought possible.
He shouldn't feel this. Not for a human. Not for anyone.
God save them both from his ragged emotions.
Marguerite moaned as she tasted
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