Keller stood at the back of the auditorium, watching from the shadows as Samantha walked up to the podium. He wanted to find a seat, but the place was already packed—clearly the good doctor was an excellent speaker.

Samantha had on a businesslike black dress that still somehow managed to be sexy, and black pumps with high heels that raised her from a diminutive five foot three to a respectable five foot six, at least.

Her blond hair looked tousled, as though she’d been running her hands through it, and her eyes were slightly red, as though she hadn’t gotten much sleep recently. Still, she looked gorgeous as always, and she held her chin high, looking confident as she strode to the front of the packed auditorium and laid her notes on the podium.

“Good afternoon,” she said in a clear, calm voice. “I’m Dr. Samantha Becker and today I’d like to talk to you about the myth of nonoperative management of liver trauma. How many times has this happened to you? You have a patient brought into your ER with a lacerated liver . . .”

Keller leaned back and let her words wash over him. God, she was smart! Which was so damn sexy—at least as far as he was concerned. It was one of the things that had drawn him to Rachel during his last year of college—her brilliant mind, her sharp wit . . .

He pushed the thought away abruptly. Rachel was gone—out of his life forever. And it was just as well she was. They had been bad for each other—toxic. It was Rachel who had taught him not to trust . . . not to love.

It didn’t matter though, Keller told himself. It wasn’t like he was in love with Samantha Becker. He just admired her beauty and her brains, that was all. He was only there to protect her in case things got dangerous—a life-debt was nothing to be taken lightly, after all. After her visit to Sin City was over, he would see her safely on to a plane, and then go back to his own life and forget all about her.

Really he would.

Just then, a man on the end of the front row looked at his watch, got up quietly, and vacated his seat. Seeing his chance to get a closer look, Keller slipped from the shadows and went to take the empty chair.

* * *

“ . . . so you see, if you treat the liver like a . . .” Samantha’s voice trailed to a stop as she saw an impossibly tall, muscular figure making its way from the shadows at the back of the auditorium right up to the front row.

Could that actually be Keller? But how could he have recovered so quickly? He’d said that Shifters were fast healers, but this was ridiculous. He’d had multiple broken bones, traumatic injuries to his internal organs, not to mention a lacerated liver, just like the topic of her lecture. Yet here he was, dressed in an expensive gray three-piece suit, which looked like it cost more than her car, with his thick brown hair in an immaculate club at the back of his neck and his pale, silver-green eyes fixed intently on her as she tried to speak. He looked like he’d never been ill a day in his life—not like a man who was only twenty-four hours out of a lifesaving surgery.

Samantha couldn’t believe it.

Looking up at her, Keller made a little go on gesture with one hand.

“Um,” she said, realizing that she’d stopped talking in the middle of her lecture. Some of the audience was getting restless, whispering among themselves, no doubt wondering why their lecturer had suddenly gone silent.

“As I was saying,” Samantha said loudly, trying to gather her thoughts and ignore those pale green eyes trained on her from the front row. “The liver is . . .”

Somehow she managed to finish the speech, although half the time she didn’t know what she was saying. Though she tried not to let it, Keller’s silent, intense gaze rattled her . . . which in turn, pissed her off. How dare he interfere in her life this way? How dare he leave the hospital and follow her to Vegas, book her into a massively expensive room, and then plunk himself down in the front row in the middle of her lecture just to bother her?

By the time the lecture was over, she was ready to wring his muscular neck. To the sound of applause, she marched off the stage and straight down to the front row where he was still sitting, apparently at ease, with one long leg crossed over the other.

“Keller!” she exclaimed, glaring at him. He was lounging in the chair with catlike grace, looking up at her, though not far, since he was so tall. “What do you think you’re doing here?” she demanded.

“Here in Vegas or here in your lecture?” he murmured, looking not in the least perturbed. “It was very good, by the way. I can tell you know your subject inside and out.” He patted his own muscular torso under the sleek, silver-gray suit jacket. “But then, I would have known that without hearing you speak, your actions being even more eloquent than your words.”

“Why you—” Samantha began but just then a familiar voice boomed in her ear.

“Samantha Becker? Little Sammie Becker?”

Turning, she saw it was her mentor, Dr. Bloomsburg, the head of trauma surgery at Mount Sinai hospital where Samantha had done her fellowship. A barrel-chested bear of a man, Bloomsburg had a long white beard and a booming laugh that had caused his residents to nickname him, “Santa.”

“Dr. Bloomsburg!” she gasped as he caught her up in a bear hug that squeezed all the breath out of her lungs.

“Sammie!” Bloomsburg was the only person besides her twin, Sadie, who was allowed to call her that. He squeezed her again before setting her back on her feet, his round, red face beaming. “I’m so glad to see you! That was an excellent lecture you gave!”

“Yes, our little Sammie is quite a speaker, isn’t she?”

Turning her head, Samantha saw that Keller was on his feet and looming over her protectively. There was a watchful look in his leaf-green eyes, as though he thought her old mentor might be trouble.

“And you are?” Bloomsburg asked, looking up at him with a slight frown on his jolly face.

“A former patient of Sammie’s,” Keller said smoothly, holding out his hand. “Liam Keller.”

“Liam Keller?” Bloomsburg took his hand eagerly while Samantha watched, fuming. “The Liam Keller of Keller Biotech and Robotics?”

“The same.” Keller smiled, and Samantha found herself doing a double take.

“Keller Biotech?” she asked, frowning. “Are you really—?”

“Did you think the name was just a coincidence?” Keller gave her a cat-that-got-the-cream smile.

“But you . . . but I . . . but you’re the mayor of Cougarville—you own a bar, not a biotech company!” Samantha stammered, shaking her head.

“Actually, I own both.” Keller gave her a smug, irritating smile. “And while I am acting mayor of the town, it’s not really a job that requires much attention. Cougarville pretty much runs itself. The same can’t be said, however, of Keller Biotech and Robotics.”

Samantha stared at him. Now she understood how Keller could afford to pay ten thousand dollars a night for a hotel room without thinking twice—doubtless that was spare change to him. His company was one of the largest tech firms in the country, and he was one of the richest men in the world.

And one of the smartest, whispered a little voice in her brain. From the articles she’d read, Keller wasn’t just involved in the business part of his company; he also had a hand in the science aspect of it as well. Though she didn’t want to let it, her new knowledge cast Keller in a whole new light. He went from big, muscular meathead who could turn into a giant prehistoric cougar, to big, muscular genius who could turn into a giant prehistoric cougar.

Samantha had always thought smart was sexy—give her the captain of the chess team over the captain of the football team any day, and she would be happy. But the fact was, you didn’t often see the captain of the chess team’s brain in the captain of the football team’s body. Was Keller really the whole package? A big, hard-bodied guy with an actual brain?

Doesn’t matter if he is, she lectured herself sternly. That doesn’t change the fact that he’s still fourteen years younger than you! Or that he’s interfering in your life.

“So Mr. Keller, you say that little Sammie here treated you? You were her patient?” Bloomsburg’s booming voice cut into her racing thoughts.

“I was,” Keller looked down at her seriously. “I was injured—trampled by a buck, actually. Occupational hazard when you live so close to the forest, as I do in my native North Carolina.”

“Trampled, hmm?” Bloomsburg’s bushy white eyebrows rose. “Now there’s an injury you don’t see every day.”

“I was almost dead,” Keller went on, his deep voice throbbing with sincerity. “I was broken and bleeding at her feet. No one else would have dared to touch me.”

“Because of the severity of your injuries, you mean?” Bloomsburg asked.

“Exactly.” But Keller was looking her in the eye as he spoke, and Samantha knew he was talking about the way she’d approached him in his Cougar form, even knowing he might be dangerous. “She put her hands on me and healed me,” he told Bloomsburg, still looking intently at Samantha. “She touched me . . . and I was hers.”

“Keller!” Samantha protested. For some reason the way he was looking at her and the soft intensity of his words made her heart pound and her cheeks feel hot and flushed.

“It’s true, Samantha,” he murmured, holding her eyes with his. “You healed me . . . you own me.”

“Well, well—it seems you’re considerably more than just Sammie’s patient now.” Bloomsburg boomed his jolly Santa laugh.

“I’m her willing slave, ready to protect her with my life from any danger that might threaten.” Keller smiled and put an arm around her, pulling her close to his side. Samantha wanted to shrug it off, but she didn’t want to make her old mentor ask even more questions.

“Keller,” she muttered under her breath. “Honestly . . .”

“Don’t look so embarrassed, my dear!” Bloomsburg exclaimed, smiling at her. “Did I tell you my own wife, Velma, was my patient once? It was how we met—I worked on her after she was in an especially bad MVA. Blunt-force trauma all over the place—I had to remove one of her kidneys! But we always say that in return, she got my heart. So it was a fair trade.” His laugher boomed again, and Samantha was forced to join in, though what she really wanted to do was get Keller alone and give him a piece of her mind.

“You always have a way of putting things in perspective, Dr. Bloomsburg,” she said, smiling at her old mentor. “I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

“I am too, Sammie—I can’t tell you how immensely proud of you I am! But now I really must get going—I have to give a lecture myself in an hour or so, and I need some time to prepare.” He looked at Keller. “Are you lecturing too, Mr. Keller? Maybe introducing a new device?”

“Not this year,” Keller said smoothly. “Although we are working on a new completely nonferromagnetic aneurysm clip we hope to unveil next year. It won’t budge so much as a millimeter, even in a five-tesla field. We’re hoping it will open up the range of diagnostic imaging available to aneurism patients and their physicians.”

“Excellent, excellent!” Bloomsburg exclaimed. “I’ll look forward to hearing about it soon, then!” He clapped Keller on the back and pulled Samantha in for one last hug. “Good-bye, my dear! You two enjoy yourselves!” he exclaimed before finding his way into the milling crowd of people who were still standing around the auditorium.

As soon as her mentor was gone, Samantha looked up at Keller and opened her mouth . . . then closed it again, not sure what to say.

“Yes, Samantha? Or should I call you ‘Sammie’ now?”

“No, you may not,” Samantha snapped, irritated with both him and herself. “Look, how are you even here? And why did you mess with my room? And how dare you come right up to the front row in the middle of my presentation and distract me with your . . . with your . . . yourself?” she finished at last, lamely.

Keller frowned. “It seems you have a lot of questions for me, and I promise to provide the answers . . . if you’ll have dinner with me tonight.”

“I—”

“You might as well say yes,” he continued before she could answer. “If you don’t, I’m just going to follow you anyway, and everyone will want to know why you have the CEO of Keller Biotech trailing you around like a lovesick teenager.”

“Why didn’t you tell me who you are?” Samantha demanded.

“Why? Would it have made a difference in the way you treated me?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Of course not!” Samantha exclaimed hotly. “I treat all my patients the same.”

“I’m not talking about the way you see me as a patient—I’m talking about the way you see me as a man,” he said mildly, but the look in his silver-green eyes was intense.

“I . . . I mean your credentials are impressive, of course,” Samantha stammered. “But no matter how rich or how smart you are, it doesn’t change the fact that—”

“That I’m too young for you?” he murmured. “I disagree, Samantha. But since my purpose here isn’t to date you but to protect you, our age difference is immaterial.”

Samantha put one hand on her hip.

“You really think I’m in that much danger? You think there are Shifters here that would do me harm?”

“I know there are. And I also know that you have no way of recognizing them since you haven’t had your first Shift yet.”

“I’m not going to Shift,” she said quickly. “Because I’m not going through the Rejuvenation process. And I don’t think I’m likely to start it either.”

“Just the same,” he murmured. “I’ll stay close to you while you’re here—I can identify other Shifters by their scent—and be certain no one who might be a threat gets too close to you.”

“Oh, please!” Samantha scoffed. “I thought you guys were extremely rare.”

“We’re more common than you might think. For instance, your friend there, Dr. Bloomsburg, is one,” Keller said mildly.

“What?” Samantha couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d informed her that her mentor was a martian. “You’re kidding,” she said flatly.

“No, I’m not.” He shrugged. “He’s most definitely a Shifter—I could smell his scent.”

“But . . . but then . . . what kind of Shifter is he? Is he one of the . . .” Samantha lowered her voice, glancing around at the milling crowd, which was finally beginning to disperse. “Is he one of the Hyenas you were talking about?”

“No.” Keller gave her a knowing smile. “If you want to know exactly what kind of Shifter he is, I’ll be happy to tell you . . . over dinner.”

“Oh, you . . .” Samantha sighed and threw up her hands. Clearly Keller wasn’t going to give up, and she’d have no peace until she agreed to eat with him. “Fine,” she said at last. “Where and what time?”

“They have a lovely French restaurant right here in the hotel—Twist. I’ve made us reservations at eight tonight.”

Samantha frowned. “You’re an arrogant bastard, you know that, Keller? What made you so sure I’d agree to have dinner with you?”

“The fact that I am very, very persistent.” He gave her that lazy cat grin again that filled Samantha with conflicting emotions—she wanted to slap his face and kiss him at the same time.

Wait, kiss him? Where did that come from? That’s crazy, right?

“I’ll see you at eight,” Keller said, cutting into her confused thoughts.

“So you’re just leaving until then? I thought you came all this way to protect me,” she exclaimed.

“I will be watching and protecting you every minute you insist on putting yourself in danger by being here,” Keller said. “Perhaps I misspoke—a more accurate farewell would have been you’ll see me at eight. But I will be watching out for you every moment up until then—I was simply going to make myself inconspicuous so as not to disturb your schedule.”

“I don’t believe this.” Samantha sighed. “Fine, lurk in the bushes all you want. I have another lecture to get to.”

“Are you going to see Dr. Bloomsburg talk?” he inquired. “I understand he’s lecturing on laparoscopy for acute surgical cases. It’s supposed to be fascinating.”

Back when she’d assumed he was just another uneducated dunderhead from the back woods of North Carolina, Samantha wouldn’t have believed Keller could make heads or tails out of the complicated lecture he was mentioning. Now she knew he was intelligent enough to stand up and give the lecture himself, or one similar to it—and probably had in the past. Knowing that made it a hell of a lot harder to dismiss the big Shifter than it had been earlier.

“Are you going?” she challenged him, not knowing what else to say.

He shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling under the expensive suit jacket.

“Only if you go, Samantha.”

“Well, I . . . I haven’t decided if I will or not,” she stammered.

“Then I’ll see you there . . . or not. Wherever you decide to go, I won’t be far behind.”

He nodded at her and glided away, leaving Samantha to stare after him and wonder if he could really hide in plain sight and how in the world she’d gotten herself such a huge and imposing bodyguard in the first place.