Page 39

He smirked. “I noticed."

I could feel him watching me now and that was so much worse.

Taking a breath, I focused on the wound which was ugly and deep. It was also bleeding freely, but once I cleared the blood I could see it had gone in under the ribs and come up against bone instead of through it. He had been very lucky, and either way it meant cleaning and stitching rather than digging.

I built the fire up, set my needle in the flame, and threaded it with waxed linen. He watched me with a quiet intensity, his head turned on the pillow.

"You know how to do this?" he said.

I raised a brow at his words. “No. I thought I'd experiment."

He stared at me.

"My grandmother was a healer, Bisbane. I've been sewing meat since I was nine." I knelt beside the bed and set my hand flat on his ribs to steady them. "Hold still."

His stomach tightened beneath my palm and I froze.

So did he.

My hand was spread across hot bare skin, his body hard beneath it, and for one incredibly stupid moment I forgot that I was supposed to be keeping a man alive. Guy looked down at my hand. Then up at me.

"Problem?"

"No."

"Your hand stopped."

"I was considering letting you bleed to death.”

"Ah."

"Keep talking and I may."

His mouth curved. There was something profoundly unfair about a half-naked man smiling at me while I was trying to sew him back together. I pushed the needle through.

His smile vanished.

"Better?"

"Immensely."

He held still. Whatever else that man was, he didn’t flinch. I decorated his flesh with twelve stitches by firelight while his jaw stayed set. His breath went short in the places where it hurt most.

Around the sixth, he made the mistake of opening his mouth.

"Smaller stitches."

I paused with the needle halfway through his skin. "Bisbane…”

"Yes?"

"I am currently holding a needle inside your body."

His eyes moved from the needle to my face. "A compelling argument."

"Thank you."

"Your bedside manner remains appalling."