Those words do something to me. I don’t know if I’ve ever just melted for a man the way I just did for this man, and it kind of scares me.It’s got to be the accent.
He rises and closes the door, shutting out the storm, then goes through the drawers near the bed. After a minute, he pulls out some clothes and brings an outfit over for me and one forhim. He hands mine to me, and says, “You should get changed. You’ll catch a cold.”
I take the clothes and thank him.
He stares at me.
Nibbling my lip, I say, “Uh, I have to change.”
“Yes,” he says with a nod.
My cheeks heat. “I’d rather do so with some privacy.”
I see it hit him. He hadn’t even considered that. “Of course.” Spinning around, he offers me his back.
It doesn’t feel like a whole lot of privacy, but glancing around the room I see there’s not a lot of opportunity to get more than this, so I decide to just change as quickly as possible. I peel off my leathers, use a blanket nearby to dry myself, and then put on the white women’s nightgown. For one minute I’m relieved to be out of wet clothes, and the next I’m feeling vulnerable in the nightgown. But there’s nothing I can do about that.
When I’m done, I say, “Finished.”
He whirls back around, sees me, and smiles. “That’s better.”
Before I can respond, he reaches for the buttons on his black leather shirt, undoing one after another. Slowly, his rock-hard chest and stomach come into sight, and I’m drinking it in before I realize what I’m doing. Looking up, I see him watching me. My cheeks heat, and I lift my hands and cover my eyes.
“You know, we’re married, you’re allowed to see me naked. Hell, you’re allowed to do whatever you want with my naked body.”
It’s an offer that’s hard to refuse. “I’m fine. Thanks.”
Listening to the sounds of him undressing are pure torture. Unable to help myself, I peek between my fingertips and find him fully naked. Water glistens over his tanned skin. His big body is tapered at the waist, and his massive cock just hangs there like it wasn’t just squeezed into tight leather clothes.
A prickling sensation runs over my spine, and I peek at his face to find him grinning at me. Horrified, I close the gap between my fingers and try to calm my racing heart. After a minute, I feel him sit down beside me, and I release a slow breath and drop my hands. He’s wearing simple cotton trousers, his chest still bare but dry.
He turns me slightly, then pulls my feet into his lap, studying my hurt ankle carefully. But while I should be focused on my ankle too, seeing how bad it is, I can’t seem to take my eyes off of the python he’s got hidden in his grey cotton pants. Its outline isn’t the least bit concealed.
I swallow hard.
“Does this hurt?” he asks, rotating it slightly.
I suck in a sharp breath. “No–”
“It does.” He doesn’t seem to care what I said. “And this?” He moves it up and down.
I clamp down, trying not to react, but my whole body tenses, and he seems to accept that as his answer. He slides out from underneath my feet and goes to the bag he dropped by the fire. He digs through it and comes back with a smaller pack, then slides right back under my feet.
“What are you going to do?”
“We have a special paste I can put on it to help with healing and pain. Then we’ll wrap it.”
“What’s in the special paste?” When he glances at me, I shrug. “I’m a healer by trade. I worked alongside my mother all my life.”
“A healer and a dragon rider? You’re truly an impressive woman,” he compliments. Our gazes meet, and I look away again, feeling that familiar nervous sensation fluttering in my stomach.
It’s strange. Ever since I met the princes and started at the dragon rider’s academy, I’ve felt like I’m constantly trying toprove myself to people who will never see me as worthy. But with Sevrin, it feels like he already sees me as worthy. Which is odd, given that we barely know each other.
He opens his smaller pack and takes out a glass jar of green paste. “Oh, and the paste is comfrey roots and leaves, mixed with animal fat. Then we’ll wrap it in linens.”
“I would’ve treated it similarly myself,” I say, surprised by both his knowledge of healing and that his people are more similar to mine than I thought.
He coats my ankle in the cool poultice and apologizes for the temperature, before wrapping it. The paste instantly eases the pain in my ankle, making my muscles slowly relax. Then he puts everything back in his little bag and sets it on the ground next to us. Wordlessly, he takes my other foot and starts rubbing it, sending pleasure radiating through my body.
