He shut his eyes and mumbled a handful of unintelligible words, then pressed something to her head. Almost immediately, the cold seeped through.
“Bleeding again.”
“You’ll have to take that up with the guy who bandaged me.”
“Doesn’t look good.”
“No? Think you’ll…” She swallowed and fought to keep her eyes on him. “Have to cut it off, doc?”
With a low snuffle, he lifted the ice and leaned forward. “Better give you stitches.”
“Yeah?” The fingers she touched to her scalp came back glistening red. She met his eyes. “Go for it. I figure, you haven’t killed me yet…”
“Injury gets bad enough, won’t have to.”
A shocked laugh jolted her so hard she had to deep breathe for a few seconds. “No more grim jokes. Especially not about killing me.” She finally managed to lift her head, opened her eyes, still smiling, and went very still.
He was watching her intently, almost hungrily, she’d say, though that was ridiculous, given the state she was in. But she couldn’t deny this new thing filling the air—a third presence as unlikely as everything that had led to this moment:attraction. Ill-timed and absurd, but there.
Bullshit. She was delirious.
“Here, hold this.” He handed her the ice pack and peeled back the rest of the bandage.
A low hum rose from her belly.
“Let’s ice it for a while and I’ll sew it up.”
“I hate stitches.” She grimaced.
“Had ’em before?”
“Yeah.” She just kept her eyes from glancing down at her body. “Three times.”
He grunted.
“Don’t worry. I heal fast.”
“That so?” His brow crinkled. “My mom always said the same about me.”
“You get in a lot of scrapes?”
All humor left his eyes. “Could say that.” With an awkward hand movement, he indicated the open bedroll. “Better if you, uh, lie back down.”
She complied, settling onto her side with a sigh of relief. It felt remarkably good to let her muscles go, even if it meant putting herself at his mercy.Backat his mercy.
A shiver went through her—from the damp ground, obviously. Couldn’t be from the feel of his bare hand at her nape, the whisper of fingers to earlobes and then—
She groaned when the ice pack settled back on her head. After a while—geez, who could tell how long—the pain receded.
“Okay. Hold on.” He messed with something in his bag, then slid his long fingers beneath her head and gently lifted it just long enough to place a cloth under her face. “Gonna sting. Ready?”
“As ever.”
No careful dabbing this time. Whatever he poured over the wound made her grit her teeth so hard, they should have cracked.
“Sure you trust me with a needle to your head?”
“You being…funny again?”
