Rachael let out her breath, her stomach muscles clenching. He had scars on his back. Lots of them. And he had another leech. “You have another one on your back. Come over here and I’ll take it off for you.” The thought of touching the leech was disgusting, but it sickened her to see the thing sucking on him like the parasite it was.

His shoulders stiffened. Not a big movement, but one that told her she’d surprised him and he didn’t like surprises. He turned his head, a slow, animal-like movement. Rachael’s breath caught in her throat. His eyes glowed, much like that of a cat in the dark. The flames from the fireplace leapt in the yellow-green depths. There was a long moment of silence. A log hissed and shifted. Sparks flew.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. I’m used to them.” Rio sounded gruff and abrupt and surly even to his own ears. Hell, all she’d done was ask to help him. He didn’t need to bite her head off. “I think your wrist is broken. I haven’t had time to splint it.” He couldn’t remember anyone offering to help him before. He rarely spent more than a few minutes in the company of others, and her close proximity was unsettling. She made him feel vulnerable in a way he couldn’t understand.

Rachael looked with some surprise at her swollen wrist. The pain radiating up from her leg consumed her to the point she hadn’t noticed her wrist. “I guess it is. Who are you?”

She watched him take his time before answering, pulling the leech from his stomach with the ease of practice and disposing of it. His strange eyes immediately focused fully on her. “Rio Santana.” He obviously was expecting a reaction to his name.

Rachael blinked at him. The intensity of his gaze made her heart pound. She’d never heard his name before, she was certain of it, yet something about him seemed familiar to her. She shifted position and pain knifed through her.

Impatience flickered across his face. “Stop moving around. You’ll start bleeding again, and I haven’t even cleaned up the first mess.”

“You spend a lot of time working on your manners, don’t you?” she observed.

“You tried to bash in my head, lady. I don’t think I need you to lecture me on manners.” He stalked across the room to draw the knife from the sheath.

Her heart jumped, then settled into a steady pounding. Everything about the way he moved reminded her of an animal. The flames from the fireplace made the blade of the knife glow an eerie red-orange as he held it up.

“Stop looking at me like I have two heads,” he snapped, sounding more impatient than ever.