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thundering in her ears. Dream, she thought. Just a dream. Except the throbbing ache between her legs was all too real . . . as was the man cuddled up to her back, his erection pressed firmly against the fabric covering her hip.
    She rolled away from him before thinking, and gasped as pain ripped through her shoulder.
    In the next instant, he loomed over her, wide awake. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
    Instinct kicked in, and she thrust upward with the heel of her hand, catching him under the chin and snapping his head back.
    He tumbled backward off the bed, hit the floor with a crash and a grunt and lay still for a silent second before sitting up and shaking his head to clear it. “Fuck! What’d you do that for?”
    Sam stared at him, disoriented, as her eyes adjusted to the dark. She could have sworn he’d been going down on her . . . except she hadn’t been herself—
    Oh. Of course. It really had been a dream—a very erotic one—but it hadn’t been hers. Her empathy had tapped into his dream.
    It had been so long since she’d slept in such close proximity with another person that she’d forgotten that particular aspect of her psychic ability. Sometimes flashing on what was going on in someone else’s head was a curse . . . though, this dream she’d been enjoying. A lot .
    Her cheeks began to burn as she realized she was disappointed that he wasn’t as naked as he’d been in the dream. Had he dreamed those rock-hard abs for himself or did they ripple under the cotton of his white T-shirt in reality, too? And did those faded jeans camouflage the same impressive—
    “Look,” Mac said as he scrubbed his hands over his face. “I know I didn’t get the hell out of Dodge like you told me to, but you were unconscious, and I didn’t want to leave you like that. And . . . and you were cold. Really cold. Shivering, in fact. I didn’t know how else to get you warm . . . so I . . . so I . . . well, hell.”
    “You got into bed with me.” She fought to suppress a smile. He really was kind of cute when flustered. And hot when aroused. He was also far too much of a good Samaritan. Didn’t he know it never paid to worry more about someone other than yourself?
    “Right,” he said with a sigh. “But it was all perfectly innocent. You’re dressed. I’m dressed. It was just about getting warm. I guess I . . . I guess I got a little too warm. Kind of tough to control certain things when I’m asleep.”
    “It’s okay. I get it.”
    A trickle of blood on his chin caught her eye. Gritting her teeth against the ache in her shoulder, she got off the bed, grateful for the T-shirt and boxers he’d put her in, and knelt in front of him. “Are you okay? It looks like I might have done some damage.”
    Bracing herself to suppress the empathic flash, she gently angled his chin to inspect a small cut on the right side of his jaw. She must have nicked him with a fingernail. But then the texture of his razor stubble grazing against her fingertips distracted her. It was nice. As was his jaw, angular and strong. The realization that she found him far more appealing than any man she’d met in a long, long time made her quickly draw her hand back.
    He blinked at the abrupt move, and she wondered if the brief expression that rippled over his features was disappointment . . . and why did it matter? His presence here was trouble, period.
    “Who are you?” he asked. “Some kind of secret agent?”
    She forced out a hollow laugh. “Yeah, right. Isn’t there a first-aid kit around here? I should clean this for you.”
    “Um, yeah. In the kitchen. But it’s not necessary. I’ve done worse shaving.”
    “You don’t want it getting infected. The kit’s in the kitchen?”
    He put his hand on her arm to stop her, and she flinched, unprepared for the unexpected contact. As she absorbed the empathic hit of the blow to his chin, dizziness eddied through her head. Her legs folded as easily as a new colt’s.
    “Whoa!” Mac