The Unexpected Millionaire. Susan Mallery

and they need their mom. Oh, do you have a hot water bottle to put in the box, because that would be great.”

      He could hear a strange buzzing in his ears. “Aren’t there rescue places?”

      “Sure, but they’re already busy with real strays. This cat has a home, at least until the babies are older.”

      “They don’t have a home here.”

      She stared at him, wide-eyed. He knew he was being manipulated and knew he wasn’t going to give in.

      “I don’t do cats,” he said firmly. “Not this one, not any one.”

      “That’s so mean.”

      She spoke softly. He barely heard the words, yet it was as if she’d slapped him. Her blue eyes darkened with disappointment and she seemed to shrink into the chair.

      “All right,” she told him. “Just get the cat supplies together. I’ll figure out something.”

      He’d led men into more dangerous parts of the world than most people knew about. He’d killed to stay alive and had been left for dead more than once. Yet never had he felt so out of his element than he did at this moment.

      What the hell did he care what this woman thought of him? It was a damn cat. Let her take it.

      He went into the kitchen and put the food into a grocery bag, then carried it into the living room. But when he glanced at Willow, he saw she’d fallen asleep.

      Her head lay on the armrest, her long blond hair a contrast to the dark leather. One leg curled up under her while the other one was stretched out, ice still strapped to her injured ankle.

      “Willow?”

      She didn’t stir. In addition to being a wimp about pain, she was also a lightweight when it came to painkillers. No wonder the doctor had told her not to drive after taking it.

      The room was silent, except for the quiet purring of the mother cat and loud thudding of his own heart.

      Willow woke up and had no idea where she was. As if that had never happened to her before, she immediately sat up and thought about panicking. But before the adrenaline could really get pumping, she remembered the whole Kane-ankle-cat thing and decided she was probably still in his house.

      A quick glance at the clock on the nightstand told her it was nearly midnight. Wow—that pill had knocked her out for hours. She sat up and looked around. A night-light from the bathroom allowed her to see the shapes of the furniture, including the bed she’d slept on. The guest room, she thought, noting the bed wasn’t huge and the furniture looked more neutral than masculine. Too bad. She really wouldn’t have minded waking up in his bed…with him.

      Smiling at the thought, she looked down at herself and saw that except for her shoes, she was completely dressed. Kane had been a gentleman. Wasn’t that just her luck?

      Willow sighed. She was never really like this about guys. But there was just something about Kane that got to her and made her want to be wild. Maybe because being around him felt safe. As if no matter what she did or how she acted, nothing bad would happen to her. He would be there, protecting her.

      No one had ever been safe before.

      She swung her feet over the side of the bed and stood carefully. While her ankle was still sore, it was a ton better. She could almost walk normally.

      After visiting the bathroom—where she found a brand-new toothbrush and toothpaste conveniently waiting—she made use of the facilities, washed her face, brushed her teeth, then went in search of her host.

      Kane was in the living room, reading. He glanced up as she entered.

      “Sorry,” she said. “The pill knocked me out.”

      “I noticed.”

      “So, you, um, carried me to bed.”

      “Yes.”

      “I slept through that.”

      “Apparently.”

      “You kept my clothes on.”

      “It seemed the polite thing to do.”

      “Okay.”

      One corner of his mouth twitched. “Should I have stripped you naked and taken you while you were unconscious?”

      “Of course not. It’s just…”

      He kissed her before. Hadn’t he meant it?

      He stood and walked over to her. In less than a second, the humor was gone and he looked…predatory.

      “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he told her. “You don’t know anything about me.”

      It was true. The sensible part of her brain told her to quietly back away, retreat to the guest room and lock the door behind her. Only, he’d wanted her before. Really wanted her. The sensible part of her brain needed to remember how rare that was.

      He reached up and fingered a strand of her hair. “Like silk,” he murmured.

      And then it was back—the fire that had thrilled her so much. She felt the heat burn between them, drawing her closer, making her promises, tempting her into the path of possible destruction.