Chapter Seven
Chuckling, Hone let her lead the way to the front door. An itchiness between his shoulder blades told him they were under scrutiny. Again. He hated the idea of leaving Cassie alone, yet he sensed she intended to stay, no matter what his argument.
“Where do you want the tins of paint?”
“The lounge, please. The words on the walls there make me grit my teeth.”
Hone checked his watch. “I have ten minutes before it’s time to leave. Anything else before I go? After I check your ribs.”
“Humph.”
Hone suppressed his smile at her harsh exhalation. He set down the box of painting equipment. “Show me your war wounds.”
“I stubbed my toe.”
“Cassie.” He remained stern, fighting his instinct to laugh.
She avoided his gaze, instead focusing on her feet. “You’re not going to go away, are you?”
“In ten minutes.”
She bared her straight white teeth at him. Then a chuckle escaped, a surrender, her hands darting to her blouse buttons. “I am glad I didn’t go with my first instinct to wear a dress.”
“I like your dresses.” Hone made a sweeping gesture to indicate her clothing. “The one with the cats wearing glasses.”
“You noticed them?”
“It told me you have a sense of humor. I enjoy that in a woman.”
“Oh.” Her eyes grew as wide as her mouth.
“Clock’s ticking, babe.”
Her breasts rose and fell with her gusty sigh, and his taniwha perked up for the first time since his flight-exhausted slumber. The faintest rumble of a purr vibrated through Hone’s mind.
With trembling fingers, she unfastened the top two buttons of her pale blue blouse. Hone’s gaze drifted to her bra and her creamy curves pushing against the restraint.
“Hey.” She clicked her fingers under his nose.
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t look.”
“You’re in first-aid mode.”
Hone spotted the red mark above her left breast. No broken skin. He prodded the area with light fingers, watching her expression the entire time. She winced.
“How sore are you? Honestly.”
“I tensed once I knew I was going to crash. My neck and back are okay, but I have general aches and pains. Nothing too major.”
Hone wanted to pull her into his arms, hold her. Just hold her against him until his racing pulse slowed, until the trembling of his knees ceased, until his taniwha stopped struggling for freedom. “Tell me if that changes. I’m serious about the hot tub. That will help.” Fighting his taniwha, his need to touch, his urge to protect, he stepped back and watched her refasten her blouse.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’d better go. I’ll be back in two hours. Pace yourself, okay?”
“I will.”
Hone hesitated, biting back his words of caution, the urge to say more when he had no right. His hands clenched at his sides, and he forced himself to turn away since he didn’t do permanent. No women. Cassie was out of bounds.
