“Weird? No, I’m—”
He stumbled on a root, the movement pulling at his side, which drew a groan from deep in his chest. He put out a hand, caught himself on a trunk, and waited for the wave of dizziness to pass.
“You’re in pain. Why didn’t you—”
“I’m fine.”
“Let me check your injury, Elias. Just to make sure.”
He shook his head. “I’m good. It’s just a scra—”
“Don’t even try that bullshit. Been through this, remember? I’m not playing with gunshot wounds.” Leo went around him and opened his pack without permission, rummaged around in it, and came out with his first aid kit before giving the canvas a firm smack. “Put this thing on the ground. We’re doing this right.”
Why’d she sound angry? Was she mad at him? “Leo. Leo, you don’t have to—”
Her annoyed exhale was so loud, it cut through his actual words—that was the power of this woman’s silence.
When he didn’t immediately give in, she put her hands on her hips and spoke. “Look, Mr. Big Elias Thorne-in-my-side Yeti Man who’s lived on his own for so long he doesn’t know how to speak English anymore, I know you hardlyevercrack a smile, much less express emotions like…oh, extreme pain or whatever. ’Cause you’re such a big boy. Real manly. I get that. But I’ve seen grown Navy SEALs cry, okay? I’m okay with big boy boo-boos. You’re allowed to tell me when the boo-boo hurts. ’Cause, frankly, I’m not sure I’ve got the strength to carry your unconscious, limp—”
“Fine,” he grumbled. “Here.” He dropped the pack, unzipped his fleece, and grappled with his many shirts to give her access to his side, surprised to find that it really did throb. “Have at it.”
The breath she sucked in through her teeth did nothing to appease him.
“That bad?”
“Nah.” She threw him a look that he couldn’t entirely interpret, then punctuated it with a raised eyebrow. “Just reacting to your insanely sculpted six-pack.” She snuffled, leaned closer, and dabbed something to his wound. “Spend a lot of time at the gym, huh? Didn’t notice a weight room back at the cabin. Must have been in the…” He swayed, she caught him around the chest and tutted, the sound weirdly reminiscent of something Old Amka would do. “Come on. I need to—”
“It’s fine.” He shoved his shirt down, shuddered, and got as much distance from her as he could. Her hands on him were too much. Too damn much.
“Did I hurt you? Oh, hey. Look, I’m sorry if I—”
“No.” But the concern on her face sure did. The soft, careful path her fingers had trailed along his side. He could still feel the goose bumps, like a brand. They hurt more than the damn injury. And it wasn’t blood loss making him woozy; it was Leontyne Eddowes and her knowing eyes.
“Leontyne,” he said aloud, enjoying it on his lips. “Pretty.”
“Mm-hm. Right. Okay. I need you to lie down.”
Jesus, even knowing what she meant, those words made him hard.Lie down.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll deal with it myself. Just give me the—”
“Lie down, Thorne. Or I swear to God, I’ll…”
He held his breath, waiting. What? What would she do? He couldn’t begin to imagine—though his brain sure tried.
And then she pulled back, suddenly almost casual, which made him wonder what she had up her sleeve. “Listen. Real talk, okay?”
“Okay.” He stared into her deep, dark eyes—huge and serious in that little round face.
“You know this thing going on? It’s weird, right?” Though they always spoke quietly, she whispered now, drawing him in closer. “Does it feel weird to you?”
Being chased by an armed militia? Was that what she meant? He glanced at the rugged terrain around them, the wooded slope leading down to the brilliant lake, the rockier ledges above. “It’s not… No. I’m used to this place. It’s tough, but you’ll—”
“Not the place. Notthat.” She moved her hand back and forth from his chest to hers. “I meanthis. Right here. Thisthinghappening. Between us.”
He blinked and in the next split second was hit by a sudden realization. None of this was real. Not this woman, with her too-intense gaze that read the secrets of his soul, not the helicopter prowling the skies like some fire-breathing dragon. Even Bo wasn’t acting like herself right now, prancing like a pony while their lives were on the line. He must be asleep, dead, or dying.
“You attracted to me?” The question was so light, her voice so casual that the meaning didn’t immediately register.
