Page 27 of Beds and Blades

I looked back.

Neither of us moved.

“That was…” I stopped, because several possible endings presented themselves, none of them suitable for a courtyard containing vampire corpses. “That was beautiful,” I said.

Skip’s eyes dropped, very briefly, to my mouth.

“It was.”

I met his eyes again.

“I want more.”

His gaze came back to mine, darker now.

“So do I.”

His eyes dropped to my mouth, and the heat that went through me was immediate and deeply inconvenient.

“This is probably not the ideal moment to discuss it,” I said.

“No.”

His gaze moved over the courtyard—the wounded, the dead, the soldiers waiting for orders and pretending that they had not just watched their High Commander kiss me in the middle of a battlefield.

He looked back at me.

“We will discuss it later.”

A promise delayed by circumstance.

“Good,” I said.

For one more second, neither of us moved.

Then Skip’s command face returned.

“The infirmary will be overwhelmed,” he said.

I followed his gaze toward the soldiers carrying the wounded across the courtyard. Several were walking. Several were not.

“I don’t know anything about medicine.”

“You can help. Track the wounded. Record injuries. Keep supplies moving. Make certain Caen has what she needs.”

“I can do that,” I said.

“I know.”

He turned toward a group of waiting officers, issuing orders before he had fully reached them.

Then, halfway across the courtyard, he glanced back. The smile was small. Brief. Entirely inappropriate to the amount of damage it did to my concentration.

Then the High Commander was gone again.

I went to the infirmary.

***