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it. There was no denying the ripple of muscles on the board expanse of his back. Wide shoulders tapered to a lean waist.
    Hot damn!
    He walked out, blue eyes on her making her body react in ways she had no intention of pursuing. His front as impressive—more so actually—than his back. Defined abs and impressive pectorals. His arms were cut and powerful.
    She nearly rubbed against the bed but held still, refusing to give in to her base urges. His gaze darkened a bit as their gazes melded. Deep within her something stirred. A different feeling. Unique. Sensual. Powerful.
    The door flew open and she turned to see two men burst in. Dyana screamed and rolled off the bed. When she rose, it was over. The men lay dead and black wolf stood over them.
    Nausea churned and she rested her head on the mattress. Deep breaths. It’s all my imagination.
    The hand on her shoulder scared her and she reacted, whirling and striking with her fist. Millimeters from connection Casimir captured her hand.
    “I’d really prefer you not hit me. Especially there.”
    She tore her gaze from his crotch, slid it over the blended hues of their skin, and up to his face. His jaw was set and flickers of fury lay in his arctic gaze.
    “Are you okay?”
    Dyana nodded and tried to free herself from his grip. A faultless endeavor for he refused to release her wrist. Pushing to her feet, she did her best to ignore the warm—perhaps hot—body of the half-naked shifter behind her and rotated to see the two bodies of the dead men lying there. The door had been closed, keeping the destruction private.
    “Are you okay?” he repeated his question, tone gentle as she stared at the harsh view before her.
    “Sure,” she whispered. “What’s not to be okay about? It’s common for me to see a man blur shape into a wolf and kill two men who’ve busted down the door.” Her stomach rebelled. “Excuse me.”
    Dyana tried to get away. His grip never loosened and she turned to him with every intention of demanding he release her. She opened her mouth and lost the contents of her stomach. All over him.
    His rumble filled the room and she put the back of her hand over her mouth, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes.
    “Sorry,” she mumbled, seconds before doing it again.

Chapter Four
    She’d puked on him. Twice. Casimir set her away from him and walked to the bathroom, stepping into the shower he’d left moments prior.
    Pants and all, he stood beneath the spray. As remnants of her dinner washed from him, he thought about the two men lying out there. They had put his wife in danger.
    When her scream of pure unadulterated fear filled the air, he’d had but one thing in mind. Defend what was his. Defend Dyana. Defend his wife.
    Why am I standing in here and leaving her out there with the dead men?
    Shower off, he stepped out and stripped off the wet pants. After wringing them out, he hung them on a bar and wrapped a towel around his waist.
    He opened the door and saw her on her hands and knees, cleaning up her mess best she could. She gazed up at him, eyes widening as she took in his dress. Or lack of it. She still appeared pale and he waved her up, determined not to acknowledge the lust in her eyes.
    “Go lay down,” he said gruffly. “I’ll finish.”
    For a moment, he thought she’d agree. Then she shook her head. “No. I’ll clean it.”
    As she continued to do so, he dressed in another pair of jeans then left the towel on the bed. “I’m going to check around. Be back in a few.”
    She waved a hand without looking at him.
    He went out and found their vehicle. The same SUV that had been following them earlier. Using the key he’d taken from one of them, he sat in the passenger seat and rooted through the glove box. Nothing. It was a rental and Casimir would bet his property John Smith wasn’t a real name. Not one of theirs, anyway.
    Two trips and the men were lying in the surrounding woods. They would be found eventually. Casimir withdrew