Hunter's Heart (Alpha Pack #4)(15)

As he moved closer and took a seat beside the bed, he was relieved to see that her breathing was deep and even. She seemed to be at peace.

He worried about how long that would last.

For several long moments, he contemplated Melina's parting words, that she didn't envy him the task ahead. Daria might forgive him, but getting there probably would not be a joyride.

Despite his relief at seeing her already healing, the first hint of trepidation seeped through like black sludge.

Daria had to forgive him. Had to. The alternative was unthinkable.

. . .

I shouldn't be alive.

That was Daria's initial thought as she blinked into the sunlight filtering through the crack in the blinds in the sterile room. Yes, she was completely positive she had been dying out in that isolated stretch of wilderness, lying broken at the bottom of a ravine.

How am I here? How?

Gradually, bits and pieces returned. Rescuers had found her. He had been among them, the one she sought. Talking to her, encouraging her to live. What was his name?

Her thoughts were sluggish, but she finally recalled she didn't know it. As more of the fog lifted, she realized that her vision of him being attacked hadn't revealed that piece of information. Nor had they exchanged names when she'd come to him astrally and begged for help. Then a slight rustle sounded from her right and she turned her head to see the man in the flesh, dozing in a chair beside the bed.

She sucked in a sharp, involuntary breath, ignoring the pain it caused. However beautiful he was in her vision was nothing compared to the real thing. Even with his long, lean frame sprawled in the uncomfortable-looking chair, shadows under his eyes, and snoring a little as he slept like the dead, he was stunning male perfection.

He wore faded jeans and a short-sleeved button-up shirt that wasn't tucked in. The buttons were open halfway down his torso, as though he'd thrown on the shirt and couldn't be bothered to finish with the task. Though she couldn't see his feet, she guessed he must be wearing tennis shoes.

Taking in her surroundings, she noted that this room was much like the one she'd visited him in-when? She had no idea how long she'd been here. There was no clock on the bedside table or on the wall. There wasn't much of anything except a pitcher of water, a plastic cup, the chair, her bed, and a rolling food tray that held a vase of pretty flowers.

She blinked at them, and suddenly remembered her dad. Were they from him? If so, where was he? Maybe he'd gone for some food.

The blond man stirred in the chair and opened his eyes, revealing the crystal blue that she remembered. Stretching his back, he sat up, and in spite of his obvious fatigue, he smiled at her. His teeth were straight and white, and the effect on his already breathtaking looks made her heart skip a beat.

"Hi there." The rich timbre of his voice was smooth, sexy. Like the rest of him.

"Hello." Her own voice was raspy, as though she hadn't used it in months. "Where am I?"

"A . . . private facility." Before she could question him about that, he scooted closer and laid a big hand on her arm. Or rather, over the sling and cast covering her arm. "How are you feeling?"

She paused, taking stock of her body. "Sore. Hurts a little." Then she frowned. "Seems like I should be in more pain, though. Good drugs, maybe."

Those gorgeous blue eyes grew solemn. "Something like that. Do you remember your name and what you were doing in the Shoshone?"

"I'm Daria Bradford, and I'm a wildlife biologist specializing in the study of wolves." She swallowed, the dryness in her throat making her hoarse. Immediately he caught on and poured her a cup of water, sticking a straw in it. Then he held the straw to her lips.

"Just a few sips. Don't want you to get sick."

The water was heaven. More so was the solicitous attention from this kind stranger. "Thank you." She sat back and he placed the cup on the table.

"You're welcome." He paused. "Do you recall how long you'd been in the area before you fell into the ravine?"

She nodded, the slight movement making her neck twinge. "Almost two weeks. And I didn't fall, I was pushed. I told you that before."

A blond brow arched attractively, disappearing under the fringe of bangs that fell into his eyes. "When you astrally projected yourself into my hospital room. You have a gift."

There was no accusation in his tone. No stunned disbelief, no censure or disgust. Just honest interest. Why wasn't he shocked? "Yes."

"All right. Why did you go off the trail? Why did you run from the scene of the body you found, and who pushed you into the ravine?"

"Back up. I can't believe you're taking it so well that I have a Psy gift."

He laughed softly. "Trust me, nobody around here will bat an eyelash at that."

"What do you mean?"

"All in good time."

"What's your name?"

"Ryon Hunter," he said softly. "At your command."

He was gazing at her as though she held the answers he'd sought all his life. It made her feel warm and fuzzy all over. Weird. And sort of nice.

"It's good to meet you." It came out sounding shy, though she wasn't typically a shy person at all. This man got to her, and she didn't understand why.

"You mean good to meet me again."