Her.
Of course, he wouldn’t have been hurt had he not stopped her from escaping. Still, he had saved her and Jamie from the others. Whether she liked it or not, she owed him.
And Callie had never been one to remain indebted to anyone. Gathering her sewing kit and a small bag of herbs from her trunk, she ordered Jamie to stay with Aelfa, then opened the door.
Determined to owe him no more, she went to face the devil in his own lair. She only hoped he didn’t gobble her up.
Three
Sin heard the latch on his door rattle. Instinctively, he pulled the dagger from his boot and balanced it between his thumb and forefinger, waiting to see if it needed to fly into the chest of whomever was trespassing.
The door opened a hair to show him a pert little nose followed by the profile of an angel. An angel who paused while she stared at the wall opposite of him.
“Sir? Sir Bl... Knight? Are you in here?”
Sin tucked the knife back into his boot. “Given how this is my room, where else would I be?”
She still hadn’t looked inside, and she chose to ignore his sarcasm. “Are you decent?”
Sin snorted. “There are many, milady, who say I haven’t a decent bone in my entire body.”
“And there are many who say it’s drafty here in the hallway. What I want to know is, are you dressed?”
“I’m as dressed as I was the last time you saw me which means you should go back to your room, posthaste.”
She didn’t. Instead, she opened the door wider, and to his immediate dismay, stepped inside.
Her gaze scanned the room until she found him, sitting on the bed. And when those light green eyes focused on his bare chest, Sin could swear he felt a riveting shock from the bottom of his feet to the top of his head. Worse, his groin drew tight and hot with a need so profound that he actually ached from it.
What the devil was the matter with him? He wasn’t some callow youth to swell at the sight of some winsome maid. He had conquered his body and his lust long ago.
But for some reason, his control slipped every time she came near him. Worse was the knowledge that she could be his. All he had to do was go to Henry and he could have her.
If he dared such...
Oblivious to the havoc she caused him, she crossed the floor to stand in front of the bed.
“What are you doing here?” he asked sharply.
She took his words in stride. “I’m here to tend the wounds I caused.”
Sin fingered the makeshift bandage on his left arm. It was far from a perfect wrap, but it would suffice.
Besides, the last thing he needed was for her to come any closer to him than she already was.
“Then you have no fear, milady. You weren’t the cause of my wounds.”
She frowned. “You didn’t get them when you disarmed me?”
“Aye, but it wasn’t your actions that caused them so much as my own.”
She waved his words away with her hand. Without his permission, she set a dark brown leather bag and a small basket on the bed beside him next to the piece of white linen he’d been using for bandages.
“You’re arguing just for the sake of it, and I shan’t listen anymore. Now stop your fussing and let me see about those wounds before they fester and rot your arms off. Even though it might serve you right.”
Sin stared at her incredulously. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had dismissed him so flippantly, but he was relatively sure he must have been in swaddling when it happened.
She reached for his right arm.
