“But I’m here, so you don’t have to.” Valerie snagged a pair of blunt-tipped scissors from the kit. “Where’s the wound?”
“Outer side.”
“Probably best to cut your shorts than try to remove them.”
Cut his shorts.
To expose his leg.
This wasn’t how he’d imagined revealing his scars. If she stripped naked first, he could at least pretend they were having fun. Like last night. Maybe he should have dropped trou then. Would seeing the ugly remains of his injury have stopped her from going down on him?
With a gentle tug to separate the blood-soaked fabric from his skin, she brought him back to reality as she began snipping through the thick cotton at the outside of his knee, her beautiful face set in concentration. As distractions went, she was top notch.
Working carefully but quickly, she made cuts from knee to hip that flanked his hand. The cloth fell away on each side, revealing streaks of blood and—
Valerie gasped and flinched, sitting back on her heels. “Is this…?” Her gaze snagged on the tangle of damaged skin.
Like starbursts, the thick, shiny lines radiated out from his groin, arcing across the left side of his pelvis almost to his waist, and snaking down the front and inside of his thigh. As if some kid had gone to town with the modeling clay, alternately forming and smashing until he got bored and left behind an unrecognizable mess. The scars had faded to a pale pink over the last two years, but they were still ugly as hell.
“That’s old,” he said, his voice flat.
She swallowed hard and nodded, visibly shaking herself to get back on track. Gesturing to his hand, she asked, “You ready?”
With a nod, he peeled the fabric back to reveal the rest of his leg and the network of old wreckage that framed a half-inch-thick spike of wood lodged in his upper quadriceps.
“Jesus.”
The blood had slowed to a trickle, but if she removed the splinter from hell, that could change. Still, it wasn’t like he could go to a hospital. Not with his face plastered all over the news. And he was several hours of flight time from any of Steele’s other security contractors, all of whom were former Air Force pararescuemen, aka PJs—badass paramedics who rescued injured service members from behind enemy lines.
Valerie’s face lost its color.
“You want me to do it?” he asked.
She shook her head decisively. “No.” Busying herself with the first-aid supplies, she said, “I wish I had something to help with the pain. I find it helps to focus on a soothing or happy image.”
He scoffed. Thanks to his dad, he was an expert at working through the pain, but where had she learned? “I can handle it.”
She bit her lower lip and said, “Alcohol,” as she swabbed the wound with stinging liquid.
He clenched his teeth and focused on her face, on images of her kneeling before him for a completely different reason, on the remembered feel of her in his embrace just hours before, her soft lips on his, eager tongues caressing and exploring—
White-hot fire seared his thigh and he hissed, jerking back in his seat.
“Sorry,” Valerie said, holding up a bloody chunk of wood with tweezers in one hand as she pressed gauze onto the inflamed injury with the other. “Looks like a piece of fence.”
Better than a bullet, but Jesus Christ. The wooden missile wasn’t that big, and it still hurt like a son of a bitch coming out. He released a long breath as the pain returned to a manageable throb.
Valerie cleaned the wound again and removed several smaller splinters. She packed the area with antibiotic ointment and gauze, holding it all in place with medical tape circling his leg.
“You should probably keep pressure on that for a while,” she said. “And maybe lie down to elevate your leg.”
Maybe she could join him. “Thank you,” he said, when she finally met his gaze. “You did good.”
Her smile was weak. “So did you.” She offered him a large wet wipe. “Do you want me to clean you up?”
He grabbed the cloth. “I’ll do it.” As much as he craved her touch, he wasn’t ready for her to fully explore his scars.
She watched for a moment, and then moved to restore the first-aid kit, busying herself as he lifted the torn material above his wound to clean near his groin.
