The wound has stopped bleeding. It’s still not a pretty sight. The skin gapes, red and ragged, burning like a motherfucker. But it doesn’t seem to faze Aria. She flushes out the wound until the water runs clear, adds more ointment, then smooths a large piece of gauze over it.
“There,” she says, drawing back to inspect her work.
I look down at my chest and arms. The cuts are still sore and angry, but they look way better now that the blood has been washed off. Only a couple needed dressing.
I got off pretty damn light.
“Thanks, Aria.” I push to my feet. “You did a great job.”
She shoots me a teasing smile. “Not bad for a city girl.”
“Not bad at all.”
She seems more relaxed now that I’m all patched up. The fear and panic have softened a little, replaced by another kind of tension as we look at each other.
We’re standing too close.
It feels like the bathroom walls are drawing in as I lock onto Aria’s big brown eyes.
She’s so damn pretty.
She’s still wearing nothing but my sweater, her pale legs exposed, and the sight of her bare skin does something to me. Makes my blood run hot. My gaze drifts to her mouth, and the need is almost too much to bear. I’m desperate to kiss her—tangle my hands in her soft black hair and suck on that plump bottom lip.
But Aria is already turning away.
She crouches down to clear up all the first-aid detritus. I start to help, but she insists I get some rest.
My instinct is to argue.
I don’t need rest.
I needher.
But my stubbornness softens at the concern on her face. She keeps glancing at my gauze-covered wound like she thinks my arm’s about to drop off. I don’t want her to worry about me. Hell, I owe her big time right now, so if she wants me to rest, I’ll do it.
For a little while, at least.
“Thirty minutes,” I say, heading for the bedroom. “Then I’m getting up.”
“Fine. Better than nothing.”
I slide into bed while Aria disappears into the kitchen. I hear her clattering around, the muffled sound of her voice talkingon the phone to someone. Then she reappears holding two steaming mugs.
“I made hot chocolate,” she says. “Sugar is good for shock, right? I think I read that somewhere.” She sets one down on my nightstand. “I also called Crave County Wildlife Services. I found the number online. It seemed like a good idea to report a starving cougar roaming around.”
I raise an eyebrow. Calling the wildlife services was next on my list. Standard protocol around these parts, where there are plenty of wild animal sightings. I’m impressed she thought of it so fast.
“Good call,” I tell her. “You’re pretty good in a crisis, princess.”
Aria chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know about that…but thanks.”
I’m starting to think I underestimated this city girl. She’s got the face of an angel, but she’s tougher than she looks. Hell, she just ran out into the freezing cold with no pants on to throw logs at a mountain lion. That’s pretty fucking badass.
“I owe you some breakfast,” I tell her, sitting up in bed. “Gonna go make you some?—”
“Thorne.” Aria rests her hands on my naked shoulders, her touch sending a bolt of electricity through my chest. “You said thirty minutes.”
My heart thumps. She’s so close to me, perched just beside my thigh. Her hands are baby soft against my skin as she tries to ease me back into bed, pushing me gently onto the mattress. My cock stirs as our eyes meet, her sweet perfume hanging in the air between us.
