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“Just…let…me…look!” She swatted at the air.

Knowing her sense of balance was not good, and that she was just as likely to trip and smack her head, I obliged.

Her touch was electric. It sent a zing of heat straight through me.

With a shake of her head, she reached over the bar—a feat, given her size—and grabbed a bottle of clear liquor.

“Garet! A clean towel, please,” she shouted.

The bartender shot her an annoyed look, but when he caught my eye, he dropped the shaker he was using and scuttled to obey.

Gritting my molars, I allowed her to continue touching me. It wasn’t uncomfortable. That was the strangest part. The booze didn’t burn, the dab of the towel didn’t sting.

I was hyper aware of her presence.

“Thank you for doing that,” she murmured.

“What?” The word was gravel, sticking to my tongue.

“Calming them down. I wasn’t sure how we were going to survive that,” she jabbered. “I thought for sure the cops would come and then all hell would break loose.”

I watched her as she worked.

“This is deep. I think it needs stitches.” She finally looked up at me.

I shrugged. “I’ll take care of it.”

Her gaze searched my face. “You’ll go to the ER?”

“No.”

Those full lips pursed.

Bloody hell…I wanted to run my thumb over them. It drove me crazy to keep my hands to myself.

“It needs stitches.”

I shrugged. “I’ll do it.”

Her eye roll was audible.

It made my own lips twitch ever so slightly.

“Alright, that’s it.” She slammed the bloody towel on the bar top. “I’ll take you home and do it myself.”

The thumping organ in my chest came alive. Before, it was just a body part. At her declaration, it grew fucking wings—and soared.

I leaned forward. “Are you in the habit of bringing strays home, beautiful?”

Those pretty cheeks pinkened. “Not recently. Why?”

“Don’t you know that they can be vicious? Bite the hand that feeds them?” I insisted. My dry throat cracked from lack of use.

But she didn’t notice.

“You don’t look like a biter.” She turned, said something low and quick to the bodyguard. He frowned and shook his head. Isabella cut her hand through the air, repeated the words, though still not loud enough, and then turned and began walking with the assumption that I would simply follow her.

Heaven damn me, but I did.