“A wash.” He handed over control of one of the oars and then pulled the other into the boat. He could feel her eyes on him as he removed his filthy and bloodstained shirt, the skin of his torso just as grimy. The Amaridians had kept his bandages clean for fear of him succumbing to wound rot, but he removed them and cast them into the water. Carlo would inevitably secure hunting dogs, and the bandages would give more proof that they intended to ride the river to the sea.
James rinsed the worst of the grime off his shirt and then set thegarment out to dry. He rested his sword against the bench and removed his battered boots, and then stood up and jumped into the river.
Frigid water closed over his head, the shock of the temperature like a slap to the face, but James stayed under. The icy water pulled through his hair and rinsed his injuries from the filth of their ordeal. His chest ached for air, but he stayed under until he could take it no more. Then, gasping in a breath, he looked up into Ahnna’s wide eyes.
She was standing, appearing ready to leap into the water.
“Were you going to jump in and rescue me?”
A sharp noise of disgust pulled from her lips, and Ahnna sat down on the oar bench. “You speak as though I haven’t had to save your ass time and again.”
“Could you pass me the soap?”
She rolled her eyes but retrieved the soap. “Catch.”
He lifted a hand, but she tossed it over his head, forcing him to swim hard to retrieve it before it sank. Kicking to keep pace with the boat, he scrubbed his hair and beard, then set to work on the rest of his body, a cloud of gray froth floating away from him. Deeming his trousers as clean as they would get, he tossed them in the boat and scrubbed the rest of his body.
Ahnna was staring at him, her expression unreadable.
“You’re supposed to be scouting for threats,” he said as he tossed the soap into the boat. “Not watching me bathe.”
“Trust me, I know a threat when I see one.”
“Are you just jealous that I’m properly clean and you’re not?”
Ahnna snorted. “Please. If you think you can bait me into removing my clothes, you are mistaken.”
“Your loss, Princess. We might not have another opportunity until we reach the sea.”
“You’ll just have to suffer my stink,” she muttered, but James didn’t miss the longing look she gave to the water.
Catching hold of the side of the boat, James heaved himself in,muscles straining. Ahnna looked away, but then her eyes tracked back to him. He pretended not to notice, but James could not deny the rush of heated satisfaction that while she might be angry at him, that anger was not the extent of what she felt. He turned his face to her, and though her cheeks flushed, Ahnna looked him slowly up and down before saying, “You’re more colors than a rainbow.”
He scowled and yanked his trousers up over his ass, self-scrutiny forcing him to admit she was right. His torso was mottled with bruises from fists and boots, all purples, greens, and yellows. The stitches in his arm needed to be removed, the wound healing well enough, but his wrists were a mess of raw flesh and scabs from where he’d been bound. “Nothing that won’t heal.”
“A part of your body could be rotting off and you’d say the same.” Ahnna dug bandages and a small tin of salve out of the basket and then knelt before him. “Sit down.”
James sat. His pulse thrummed as Ahnna leaned closer to examine his injuries, the clean scent of her hair filling his nose. She had the hands of a warrior, skin marked with old scars and new scrapes, but her touch was gentle as she pulled out the stitches, smeared salve over the wounds, then deftly wrapped bandages around his wrists despite only having use of her left arm. The sensation of her hands on James made him ache to touch her, to kiss her, to fuck her, but instead he said, “Let me check that break.”
“It’s fine,” she muttered, putting away the supplies.
“If it’s not healing well, you risk your ability to fight with that arm.” He prayed the Amaridians had set it well, because the thought of having to rebreak it turned his stomach. “Let me look.”
“If you insist.”
James wanted to insist, but he only said, “I live and breathe on your terms, Princess.” Ahnna rolled her eyes but allowed him to take hold of her. James unraveled the splint and bandages to reveal her forearm. She had a slender bone structure, but the muscles were hard and defined, even with the slight swelling. He carefully ran his fingers overthe break, hearing her breath quicken, though his touch was too light to hurt. “It’s set straight, but it will be a few weeks before you can do much with it. Can you move your fingers?”
She flipped up her middle finger.
“I’m so pleased to see you haven’t lost mobility.” He took one of the clean bandages from the basket and wrapped it snugly around her arm, then set the splints and bound them with more fabric. When he finished, James looked up to find Ahnna watching him, her bottom lip clenched between her teeth. “Is the pain bad?”
“I’ve had worse.”
He fastened a sling from another length of bandage, then settled her arm into it. Ahnna didn’t move away, only watched him with steady eyes, though he noted one was still badly bruised from when Carlo had kicked her in the face. James gently ran a thumb over her blackened cheekbone, checking that it wasn’t broken. “I’m going to kill Carlo for hurting you.” Not just kill him, but make him suffer in the worst sort of ways.
“He was harder on you than he was on me.”
James shook his head. “No, he wasn’t.”
