"I forgot about that,” she whispered.
And now it hurt just as much as her head, damn it.
Izzy straightened her legs but didn't pull away from his grip on her elbow. It felt too nice. And holy Batman he smelled good. "I have to thank you," she said, but he shook his head, brushing her words away.
"No thanks needed. I'm glad I glanced up when I did." His pale eyes drifted up. "Actually, your hair caught my attention."
Izzy grinned and lifted a hand to the mass, which surely looked beautiful right now. She pressed it down, but that kind of hurt her head. Okay, it would have to stay crazy. "Yeah, it kind of likes to fly its own way, especially in the breeze."
Without saying anything he captured one spiral curl between his fingertips and tugged down its length. When he released it, the curl sprang back into place.
The big man blinked, then moved as if to step back. Izzy leaned toward him, just the slightest bit, and he paused. "You know," she whispered, "just before you came in I wished upon a SEAL."
Confusion clouded his features. "What?"
She waved a hand. "There were so many of you out there, I hoped that somebody would come to my rescue, because he was too much for me. I mean, I pride myself on being able to get out of any situation, but I was definitely in a pickle when you came in. So, I wished that one of the many Navy SEALs out there would hear my scream and come to my rescue."
The man barked out a laugh and twitched a dark eyebrow at her. "Well, you were rescued by a SEAL. Congratulations."
Then he did pull away. Izzy immediately missed his touch. And his warm, spicy scent.
Then she noticed the blood. "Oh, no. Did he get you with his knife?"
Drake looked down at the blood on the white sleeve of his shirt, then down his body. Izzy reached forward to the slice at the bottom edge of the vest, just above his waistband. The white shirt underneath was quickly turning crimson. "Take your vest off," she ordered, nurse command in her voice.
Drake's pale eyes barely even flickered. "It's a flesh wound. Don't worry about it."
"Bullshit. Actually, I don’t care if it is. There’s blood so I want to see it. Strip, big man."
She had a second to see the surprise in his eyes before she turned away to search for something to staunch the blood. There was a storage shelf right beside them, as well as a stack of linens. She grabbed several soft cloth napkins and turned back to her rescuer.
Oh, my sweet hell...
Okay, she knew Navy SEALs had to be in top physical shape, but she'd never seen a man as fit as Drake. Muscles were stacked on top of muscles, from his strong shoulders, mounded pecs to the cobbled contours of his abs. Her mouth watered at the thought of following the dark cloud of hair on his chest down the length of his stomach to beneath his waistband. Then she caught sight of the blood. All of her attention focused on that area. Moving forward, she leaned to get a better look at the cut.
It was only a scratch, like he'd said, but a deep enough one to require some care. Laying the clean napkin over the wound, she applied pressure, leaning into her hand. When she looked up, Drake stared at her. Was that interest she saw in his hard gaze?
"If it hurts, I'm sorry. It's just a small cut, shallow, but this will slow the bleeding."
His gaze dropped down between them and Izzy realized how close she'd stepped into him. Her cheeks heated again and she started to step away. "Sorry."
Drake reached out and cupped her elbows, making her pause. "You're fine. Don't go anywhere. I think it's still bleeding."
Izzy smiled, appreciating the humor. "I'm sure it is. So, Drake, how long have you been a hero?"
One dark brow quirked up. "Not long. About five minutes, actually."
She frowned. "Aren’t you one of Tyler’s Navy SEAL buddies?"
He gave her a single nod.
"Then you've been a hero for a lot longer than five minutes. How long have you been a SEAL?"
"Fourteen years."
Izzy's brows popped up in surprise. "Wow, that's a long time."
She looked at his torso again. Yep, she could see the history written on his body. Old cuts that hadn't been stitched, blossoms of scar tissue that looked like gunshot wounds. Her fingers drifted from wound to wound. His abs tightened at her touch and Izzy realized how forward she was being. And so unprofessional. God, she didn't know this guy at all. She knew him less than she'd known Brendon, but something about him drew her. She wanted to know him.
