Better than any candy bar at 7-Eleven.

“And I bet no one but me knew you made that up on the spot from the crap she had out on the counter,” he said, sounding amused.

“Hey, you loved that crap. You ate like twenty of those pieces of crap.”

“I did.” He was leaned back, utterly relaxed as he drove, the annoyingly sexy alpha.

“You didn’t do so bad yourself,” she admitted. “Telling her that I could bake. We’re even now, right?”

“Oh no,” he said silkily, his voice like warm butter. “We’re not even. Not even close.”

There in the dark interior, with the darker night all around them, surrounded by the wilderness and four adorable dogs in the back, she shivered. “Don’t tell me you’re going to hold a grudge.”

He slid her a glance. “Weekly grooming sessions? Male Brazilians?” He smiled evilly. “Yeah. I’m holding a helluva grudge. If I was you, I’d be worried. Very worried.”

“I’m pretty sure they knew we were making all that up.” She nibbled her lower lip. Okay, maybe she’d taken it a little far. “And I was really torn between the Brazilian and saying that we met at the dog-grooming place, where you were having your Pomeranian groomed. The one with a jeweled collar.”

“Christ.”

She smiled. “I’ve got to ask-why did you go with the whole couple thing in the first place?”

“Because they wanted it to be true.”

She stared at him. “So you told a whopper to a very nice, kind middle-aged man and his wife for altruistic reasons? That’s… sweet,” she decided.

“I am sweet.”

She laughed, and he smiled wryly. “Okay,” he said. “Maybe sweet is a bit of a stretch.”

“I don’t know,” she murmured, feeling herself soften inexplicably as she thought of all the little things he’d done for her. Giving the woman who’d crunched his bumper a ride home, leaving her breakfast, carrying her to bed when she’d literally fallen asleep on her face. Driving one hundred miles for a dog rescue just to keep her company… “You have your moments.”

It was midnight when they pulled back into Sunshine. Brady walked Lilah into the kennels and waited while she got the dogs in and settled, spending a few minutes with each of them, making sure they were calm and had what they needed even though she was yawning widely every two seconds and clearly dead on her feet.

With good reason, he knew. She’d been up since before dawn. He stepped in and helped her, a physical ache in his heart, the one that he was getting used to when it came to her.

“What’s the matter?” she asked when they were done.

He’d just realized what else was really bugging him. She was there for everyone and everything, and yet near as he could tell, it didn’t go both ways. Not because people didn’t love her and want to help her. They did. Everyone loved her. Everyone wanted to help her.

But she didn’t let them. She was the most independent, feisty, sexy woman he’d ever met. “Nothing,” he said, and walked her to her cabin.

“Want to come in and look beneath my bed? Or better yet, in my bed?”

He wanted her, bad. Beyond bad. But more than getting her naked and making her scream his name, he wanted her rested. She worked so damn hard, was clearly exhausted… “I’ll tuck you in.”

“I’m not going to sleep.”

“You’ve had a long day.”

“Yes, but that chem test I’m taking tomorrow counts for half of my grade. I have to burn the midnight oil.” She turned in the doorway, clearly expecting him to leave.

Instead, he caught her close, lowered his head, and kissed her, and for a moment she clung to him. It was sweet and warm, and like always when he was within two inches of her, not enough. Gently he nudged her farther inside her cabin. “Get comfy.”

She smiled, and he laughed. “Not that kind of comfy. I’m going to help you study.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I can.”

“What do you know about animal reproductive physiology?”

“I’ll be holding the book,” he said. “I’ll know everything.”

Her smile was gone, and so was the warmth in her eyes. “I can do it by myself.”

He cocked his head and studied her. “What just happened, what nerve did I step on?”

“Nothing. But I can do this on my own.”

That wasn’t an answer to his question and they both knew it. “Of course you can do this on your own. But why should you have to if someone’s willing to help? Oh,” he said, nodding when she didn’t respond to that either, “I get it. You don’t want help.”

“I don’t need help.”

And in her mind, he knew, there was a huge difference. “Everyone needs help sometimes, Lilah. Except for you, apparently, because that would signify some kind of weakness, right? Not accepting my help allows you to lump me in with all the other men in your life. The ones who, like everything else, are to be taken care of, not vice versa. Because no one’s allowed to take care of you.”

“That’s… stupid.”

“I might be temporary, Lilah, but I’m not stupid. And I’m not one of your pets, either.” He nudged her to the kitchen table where her books were spread out, waiting. “Sit down. The professor is here to make sure you pass.”

“Brady.”

“That’s Professor Brady to you,” he said.

She arched a brow and gave him a level look. No longer defensive but not yet willing to concede surrender. “So is this some kind of sexual fantasy? The beleaguered student servicing her professor for an A?”

“Hmm, sounds promising.” He nudged her into a chair, smiling when a trickle of good humor came into her eyes. “We’ll get to that. For now, crack that book, woman. Don’t make me show you what happens to naughty schoolgirls.”

Eighteen

T hree hours and lots of caffeine later, Lilah walked past a sleeping Twinkles and Boss and threw herself on her bed. She was frustrated and near comatose and also quite possibly close to jumping Brady’s bones.

“What type of uterus is found in mares?” he asked, following her from the kitchen to stand at the foot of her bed, staring down at her in a very intense professor sort of way.

She wanted to strip him naked and lick him like a lollipop, and he wanted to know what a chemical element was.

He nudged her foot. “Lilah.”

“Bipartite. Sir,” she added with a little smart-aleck salute.

“I like that,” he said with a firm nod as he consulted her review notes. “More of that. Now chemically, FSH is what?”

“A protein.”

“A protein, sir,” he corrected.

She rolled her eyes while he turned her pages. “An oocyte that is surrounded by several layers of cells but does not contain an antrum,” he said.

He’d stripped out of his sweatshirt, leaving him in a loosely fitted Henley and a pair of cargo pants with more pockets than she could count. He looked edible.

“I can see you need incentive.” He got on the bed and crawled up the length of her, spreading her legs with his knee. “An occyte…?”

“Secondary follicle… ” She broke off as he rested his forearms on either side of her head, his face just inches above hers.

“And the structures on the chorion that interlock with the uterine endometrium in the ruminant?” he asked, pulling off her clothes, brushing kisses to every part of her that he exposed, making her mind go blank.

When she didn’t speak, he raised his head, his eyes dark with concentration. “Lilah…?”

“Um…” This was supposedly all review for her, but she couldn’t remember. She blamed his sexiness. “I’m-” She moaned when he drew her breast into his mouth and struggled to think. “I-God, Brady.”

He switched to her other breast and slid a hand between her thighs. His breath caught and he made a distinct sound of male pleasure that made her inner muscles contract.

“Brady?”