He nuzzled into her neck, making her squirm. “Do you mind?”
She loved it. “Not at all, I like it… Matt.”
He laughed, and she watched the burgundy scales ripple over his wrist where his hand lay on her hip. “No one’s called me Matt for a long time.”
She lowered her voice and copied him. “Do you mind?”
He lifted his head from the crook of her neck to look at her, his usual half grin turned into a full, relaxed smile. The swelling was almost completely gone from his eye, although there was still a pale green bruise, and she lifted her hand to run her fingers down his face, into his rough beard. A bright ring of gold sparkled around the green-brown of his irises, and she wanted to stare into them forever.
He shook his head gently against her palm. “No, I like it too.” He sat up, bringing her with him, his face growing somber. “We have to go.”
She let out a slow breath, knowing he was right. As much as she would have liked to stay wrapped up in him like that forever, they had to go.
She stood up and pulled her shirt down from the branch she’d hung it on. It was cold and damp, but at least it wasn’t dripping anymore.
She turned it inside out to find the seams and then picked at the join between the sleeve and the shoulder, biting at it with her teeth until she was able to rip the sleeve off and then turn her attention to the other side.
She bound her breasts, put on her now sleeveless shirt, and struggled to pull on her wet breeches and boots, trying not to shiver as the chilly fabric tugged at her skin. She finally added her damp riding jacket, its rough wool scratching her bare arms, before turning to see Matt leaning against the tree, one leg crossed over the other. Watching her with his eyebrows raised.
To cover her embarrassment—no one had ever watched her get dressed before, and certainly not with such a hot, speculative look—she held up a sleeve. “Here, let me see your shoulder.”
He looked surprised, but he stepped closer and pulled off the rags that were all that was left of his shirt.
Gods. Those arms. And now she could see his chest too. In the dark, she’d been able to feel the hard muscles; now she could see his lean pecs and the ripple as his stomach flexed.
He had a dusting of dark blond chest hair that grew thicker in an enticing trail down past the waist of his leather breeches, and she licked her lips, imagining what it might be like to follow it down, not with her eyes but with her mouth. She’d never done anything like that before. But damn, she wanted to.
Mathos cleared his throat, and she looked up, a fiery blush spreading up her neck and onto her face. By the look in his eyes, the way the gold leaked almost all the way across his irises, he knew exactly what she’d been thinking.
His voice was deep and smooth. “If you keep looking at me like that, we won’t be going anywhere.”
She stepped forward, almost unaware she was moving until she was right in front of him and reaching out her hand to rest it on his warm chest, running her fingers through the rough curls.
His hand came over hers, pinning it against his heart as he leaned down to speak into her ear. “Don’t tempt me.”
Oh, but she wanted to.
“Not now.” His voice rumbled. “You’re…. You make me lose myself. I can’t do that here where I can’t keep you safe.”
Damn. How did he know exactly what to say to her to make her want to melt into him forever?
He must have sensed how unbalanced she was, because he wrapped his arms around her and held her, her cheek pressed against the steady thudding of his heart.
They stood like that for a moment as the world came back into focus.
Then she pulled away to look at the cruel wound in his shoulder. She pressed her fingers lightly into the bruised flesh; it was warm and slightly swollen, but not as bad as she’d expected.
“The swim helped clean it out.” His lips twitched up. “And then you took my mind off it.”
“And that helped, did it?”
“Absolutely. You’re enchanting… didn’t I tell you that already?”
Lucilla rolled her eyes. Clearly, this was what he’d meant when he said he was usually charming.
“Well, I don’t know much about healing, other than horses, but I can bandage it for you if that’ll help?”
He held out his arm in agreement. “Thank you.”
