And it was killing him. He’d allowed her to get under his skin. He’d known all along he would have to tell her the truth. Rachael had been traumatized by something in her life. She’d seen and lived with violence and he suspected she had tried to escape. He had to tell her the truth, show her the truth—he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t. But his heart was being ripped out of his chest and the rage that was never far from the surface welled up to choke him.

It had taken him time to realize she made him laugh, made him cry, made him feel. She brought life to him. Almost from the beginning she made him feel alive again. He couldn’t imagine going back to an empty house. He forced himself to tell her the truth, although it was terrifying. Rio had never been truly afraid in his life, yet now he stood to lose something he never thought to have. Fear fed the anger swirling in his belly so that he wanted to rage at her.

Rachael nodded, swallowed the tight knot of fear threatening to suffocate her. “That’s true, Rio. But you mistake what I’m afraid of. It isn’t you. It isn’t what you say. Do you think it’s all new to me? That I’m so shocked by your confession? I’m not afraid of you. You’ve had every opportunity to take advantage of me. To kill me, or rape me, or use me in some way. You could have easily taken me to the authorities for the reward money. I’m not afraid of you. Not Rio the man.”

He came closer, filling the room with dangerous power. It emanated from every pore. There was no whisper of sound when he walked toward her. He moved with the flowing grace of a large jungle animal. Ropes of muscle rippled beneath his skin. He leaned closer to her. She could hear the breath in his lungs, the low, threatening growl rumbling in his throat. Rachael refused to be intimidated, refused to look away. She stared at him with one eyebrow raised, daring him.

Muscles contorted, knotted, his large frame bent and he dropped to the floor on all fours, still watching her, never blinking, never once looking away, holding her gaze captured in the blazing intensity of his. She saw his skin lift as if something alive ran beneath it.

“And what if Rio isn’t a man?” His voice was distorted, rough. He coughed, a strange grunt she’d heard before.