When the young man’s vitals steadied, Sheba finally turned to hiskhan.
Idan stood against the far wall, arms folded over his chest, his posture not unlike that of a panther braced to attack.
In the harsh clinic light, he appeared savage, carved out of muscle and unbridled power that rippled off him in waves of heat.
She crossed to him without comment and pointed him into a chair.
‘Sit,’ she said.
He arched a brow, then did as she asked.
Finding swabs, she cleaned the blood from his extremities and torso, her hands firm and professional.
‘You’re not hurt; most of the stains belong to your man Lago. How did he get injured?’
He still offered no answers to her questions, nor explanations, nor protests.
He let her work, eyes following her movements with quiet intensity.
‘I never did say thank you for the rescue the other day,’ she ventured. ‘So here it is;sante.’
He jerked his chin, but other than that acknowledgment, he remained silent, eyes intent on her, palms loose on his thighs, breath deep and steady.
Yet his rises contracted every so often, and his pulse jumped as did hers around him.
Damn.
Still, she soldiered on, and she soon narrowed her attention to the eye motif glyph spread over his heart.
It shifted under her stare, pulsing with contained force, alive and sinuous.
The air arced with a wild charge, and she shivered.
She sensed his gaze before she met it, a warm and insistent pressure against her skin.
Each time she lifted her eyes, she found his already resting on her with a quiet intensity that made her breath hitch.
The clinic seemed to narrow around their shared awareness.
Sounds dulled, the hum of equipment faded into the background.
She caught the scent of him wafting from his honey-gold complexion.
His musk and foil were so enticing she took a deep inhale of it, shivering as it sparked a wild, savage heat in her.
Her pulse thickened. Her nipples hardened, and her hands went clammy, as though the air itself shifted in density.
She drew back, unsettled and yet drawn to him in equal measure.
‘I’m done. As you were,’ she muttered to the muscled man.
He rose with fluid grace and returned to his perch, leaning against the wall, hands crossed over his massive, rippling chest, one leg braced behind him.
Sheba stayed as well, charting the other patients in the ward and adjusting monitors, even as her perception kept drifting back tohim.
When their eyes met, they never held long enough to become improper.
He glanced away first, always, releasing her just before the moment tipped too far, only to find her again minutes later.
