Free Eventide of the Bear (The Wild Hunt Legacy #3) by Cherise Sinclair

in a very deliberate move, he pressed a kiss to her wrist. His firm lips were warm.
    She shivered.
    A crease appeared in his cheek with his slow smile. “Since the healer said you can escape this room tomorrow, I’ll fetch you for breakfast in the morning.
    As he left the room, she sniffed her wrist, knowing what he must have scented—the fragrance of a female’s interest.
    Oh, this was bad. Very bad.
    *
    Downstairs in the great room, Ryder sat on the upholstered chair and dug through Minette’s bag. “Here, kitten. Do you want to play with these?” He scattered several blocks in front of her.
    Ben would come down soon. That would be the time to raise the possibility the guest was healthier than she was letting on.
    Of course, he could be wrong.
    But, by the God, if all she wanted was Ben’s status and money, she’d better rethink. Ryder knew too well the pain of being used, and he wouldn’t let Ben be hurt.
    On the dark red area rug, Minette set her favorite stuffed cat to one side and picked up the sanded chunks of wood…with one hand. Her thumb was in her mouth.
    His heart ached. She’d made progress over the past week, had almost stopped flinching with his every movement, and started to play, even if quietly. But being faced with new people and places set her back. Poor little cub.
    Damn Genevieve for not sending him word about Minette. Damn him for avoiding the Deschutes Territory. For not finding his daughter sooner. For not having a stable family to bring her into.
    “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered.
    “You talking to me?” Ben said from the door.
    Ryder jumped. “Fucking grizzly. How do you walk without making any noise?”
    “Talent. Training.” Ben dropped onto the L-shaped sectional with a sigh.
    “Problems?”
    “I’d told Emma I only had two bedrooms, so she was worried about occupying one with y’all here. She tried to leave, even though she can barely stand.”
    Did Ben believe her? One of Genevieve’s most effective tricks was to dissolve into tears and look helpless. “She cried? And, being too weak to walk, she waited for you…so you could tell her not to leave, right?”
    “Not exactly. You’ve turned cynical, cat.” Ben showed his bloodstained hands. “She was so determined to get dressed, she tore open her wound.”
    Oh. Fuck. The scent was definitely hers. She had a wound, not an illness. Why had he assumed she was pretending to be sick? Why hadn’t he asked?
    Because Genevieve had taken him in whenever she played the ill card.
    He snorted in self-disgust. “I got caught up in chasing my own tail. Sorry. What injury does she have?”
    Ben hesitated. “Got her leg busted and sliced up in the mountains. But, ah…she was alone and didn’t get found for a couple of weeks. The healer repaired what he could, but full healing will take longer.”
    Ben went into the kitchen. The faucet came on as he washed his hands.
    A female? Hurt and alone? And she hadn’t seen a healer for two weeks? He imagined the pretty female upstairs. Trying to get dressed. Hurting herself. And he’d been pretty fucking cold to her. Fuck, Griz should smack him upside the head.
    Ben returned with two glasses of iced tea and set one in front of Ryder. He smiled at Minette’s construction of a balanced Roman arch-type bridge. “You got a budding mechanical engineer there.”
    “She reminds me of you with her constant building projects. But she seems to be more into design than construction.”
    “How about you?” Ben’s gaze stayed on the cub. “What have you been doing all these years?”
    “I…” The question slashed claws across his heart. Littermates stayed together. The bond between brothers reached deep into their souls. One shouldn’t have to ask the other about jobs and mates.
    But life was what it was.
    Thorny undergrowth or not, the direct route was often the best trail to take back home. He’d simply lay out the intervening years. “When Genevieve and I lived together, I