Grabbing the blunt end of the axe, she carefully extricated it from the back of his thigh. The wound welled up with blood, but none of it spurted. Caralas let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “You were damn lucky. It didn’t hit an artery.” She quickly bound the leg with the tunic, then used the sheath as a makeshift tourniquet after tying it off. “Can you feel your leg now?”
She watched as he tried. His leg moved slightly, and he groaned. “Yeah. Somewhat. I think I have nerve damage.” He rolled on his back and sighed. “Thanks. Got any water on you?”
“No. I’m sorry. I wish I did. Can you stand?”
“Not on my own.”
She glanced around them. “We can’t stay here. We need to find a compound, or at least a road.”
“Help me up, would you?”
It was then he noticed how she kept one arm close to her chest. Her bare chest. She saw his eyes fasten on the sight of her breasts for a few seconds before looking away.
“You’re injured, too.”
“It’s fine,” she insisted.
Gently, he wrapped his fingers around her arm. “I sense it’s broken.”
“That’s what I figured.” She snorted. “WishIcould heal rapidly.”
He removed the leather armored cuff from one arm and held it out to her. “Slip it in here. It needs to be kept as immobile as possible.”
She did as she was told. “It’s a bit too big.”
“Not a problem.” He undid the laces and retied them, tightening the cuff around her wrist. “How does that feel? Too tight?”
“It feels okay.” She gave a little groan of despair. “It had to be my sword hand, didn’t it?”
“Wriggle your fingers.”
She did. He checked her palm.
“What are you looking for?” she questioned.
“To see if your fingers are turning blue. They’re not, which tells me it’s not cutting off circulation.” He lightly brushed the dirt off of the leather covering, then looked down at himself.
She smiled. “I told you you were covered in blood.” Reaching out to him, she touched his face. “You should see your face. You look like you’ve been on the losing end of a battle.”
“That bad, eh?”
“It’s all cut up, but it’s scabbed over now.” She glanced over his sweat-soaked hair. Drops of perspiration glittered in his beard.
What she did next was impulsive. An outpouring of relief of no longer being alone. Of feeling that first sense of hope she hadn’t dared allow herself to have.
Bending over, she embraced him, lying on top of him and nestling her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes as his arms went around her, and his breath stirred the loose hairs around her face.
They remained that way for the longest time. At times she heard his heart thudding in his chest. His spread fingers clutched her skin, protecting her, silently letting her know she was safe. She wanted to kiss him again, but didn’t dare. Why, she couldn’t explain, but what they had at that moment was enough. Being embraced was something she’d never realized she needed until she was pressed against that wide, strong chest.
His fingers moved slightly, lightly stroking her bare skin, reminding her she was naked from the waist up. Reluctantly, she pulled away and sat up. His eyes roamed over her upper body, and their little shelter beneath the roofed bush suddenly felt stifling. She didn’t dare try to cover herself with her arms, much less look down. She knew what she’d see. She knew her nipples were puckered.
Before she could say anything, he managed to sit up and slipped out of the upper portion of his armor, pulled off the chain mail, and divested himself of his own tunic, holding it out to her. “It’s dirty and sweaty, but at least it’ll give you some modesty.”
“Thank you.”
He helped her draw it over her head. It was much too big for her, but at least she wouldn’t have to walk around with her breasts exposed.
Mattox started to redress in the chain mail overshirt when she stopped him. “If you put that back on your bare skin, the sun’ll roast you alive.”
