Free Dark Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 6) by Marysol James

But I was raised on a farm, and my mama taught me how to tend to the animals. I can inject drugs, figure out appropriate dosages, do stitches, deliver babies.” He paused. “Well. I can deliver baby horses and cows. I’d hesitate to deliver a human baby.”
    Shay shocked herself when she laughed. He smiled back.
    “Anyway,” he said. “I brought you back here and took care of you.”
    “How long have I been out?”
    “Three days.”
    “ What ?” she said, stunned. “Three days?”
    “Yeah. It’s been touch-and-go, but you turned the corner late last night. Slept well for the first time.”
    She glanced down at herself again. “And we’re both half-naked because…”
    “You were freezing cold, off-and-on,” he said, all matter-of-fact about sitting there in just his underwear, all hot, hard man and rippling muscles. “I had to warm you up.”
    “Oh. Right.”
    She bit her lip as a memory of something sweet and light moved over her skin. This man had held her, hadn’t he? Her body knew it, knew it intimately. She had no memory of any of it, nothing beyond some hazy sensations and some murmured words, but her body was humming at how it had felt to be touched by this man.
    He’d been incredibly gentle, she knew that much, and more than anything that had happened over the past few days, that surprised her the most. She hadn’t expected goodness here, in this place. Not with him; certainly not from him.
    “What’s your name?” she blurted out.
    As soon as the question left her lips, her eyes widened. She hadn’t thought at all before asking him that, hadn’t even known that she’d wanted to ask the question. It was out there now, though, and suddenly, she found that she really wanted the answer.
    He regarded her steadily. “You want my birth name or my road name?”
    “Well, that depends,” she said slowly.
    “On what?”
    “On who you’ve been these past three days. Everything that you’ve done for me – did you do that as a member of the Fallen Angels doing a babysitting job for the club? Or did you do all that as yourself?”
    “That was all me, Shay,” he said, so husky-soft that she believed him. “There was nobody here but us. I promise you.”
    She smiled, and his heart almost cracked open at the sight.
    “Then tell me your real name,” she said.
    “Warren. Warren Kane.”
    “Warren.” She liked saying his name, she was shocked to find. It suited him, and it didn’t, and she had no clue what she meant by either of those things.
    Those blue eyes were gazing at her, and the tenderness she saw in them unnerved her suddenly. What the hell did an outlaw biker know about being gentle and tender and caring? And why was she so ready to believe that she was safe with him? Nothing about this man was safe, and the sooner she got her head straight about that, the better.
    Flustered, she averted her eyes, scrambled to find a neutral subject that didn’t involve talking about their state of near-undress. Her gaze fell to the bandage on her leg again.
    “This cabin has all that kind of medical stuff?” she said. “Antibiotics and syringes? A suture kit?”
    He shrugged. “Sure.”
    “So what is this place, then?”
    “It’s whatever it has to be at the time.” He gestured at her leg. “We have a full-on medical kit here, so sometimes we use this place when a Fallen Angel is injured on a job. They can heal up and recover after some minor surgery. But this place is also a hide-out when the heat is on, a place to relax and recharge, a place to meet in secret away from the clubhouse…”
    “A place to hold a hostage,” Shay interrupted him before she could stop herself.
    He gave her a hard, narrow look. “Yeah. That too.”
    Silence fell between them now, the warmth between them cooled, and they both remembered just what the hell they were doing there. Their eyes held, trying to read each other’s faces and thoughts, then they both looked away at the same time.
    Shay may have been