He quickly moved it out of her grasp.
“Why would you care whether or not my arms rotted off?”
She again tried to capture his arm.
Sin grunted as he actually had to struggle to keep her at bay. “I should think you would be wishing for it as opposed to trying to prevent it.”
She paused and gave him a peeved glare over the fact that he wouldn’t hold still for her. “Because you saved Jamie.”
“And you think you owe me?”
“Aye.”
He snorted again. The foolishness women could get into their heads. Still, it was the first time in his life anyone had ever wanted to tend a wound of his. He found it strangely comforting, and that thought made him angry.
Sin didn’t need comfort. Ever.
Needing to put some distance between them, he shot to his feet.
She pursued him across the room like a herding lioness.
“My lady, if you had any idea who and what I was, you’d know better than to be alone with me in my room.”
Her eyes fluttered to his face and for the first time, he saw a bit of reservation. Then, she reached again for his arm.
Sin groaned out loud as he realized she wouldn’t leave him alone until he submitted to her treatments.
Fine then, the sooner she wrapped his arm, the sooner he could return to peace.
Ever a reluctant patient, he made a grand showing of stretching his right arm out to her.
‘Thank you’ was evident in her eyes as she gingerly pressed her fingertips to the wound.
“I do know who you are,” she said softly as she examined the cut. “Aelfa told me all about you.”
“And what did she say?”
To his dismay, she held his fist in one hand while the long, graceful fingers of her right hand glided over his hot skin with a soothing coolness that seemed to reach far deeper than just his flesh. Worse, it sent a rush of heat straight to his groin that burned and throbbed with need.
Sin held his breath as strange and foreign sensations swept through his entire body. No one had ever touched him so gently. So kindly.
But the most terrifying of all was the sudden need he felt to reach out, cup her head in his hands, and pull her lips to his own.
By the very saints, what was wrong with him?
All he could do was stare at her like some besotted ape as he struggled to keep his breathing even and normal.
She bent her head ever so slightly down as she studied the cut. “This one is not so deep, but it still needs a poultice if it’s to heal without festering.” Her long, tapered fingers continued to brand his skin with unfamiliar kindness. “This burn scar looks fairly new. Is it from battle?”
Sin shook his head, but didn’t elaborate. There was no need in going into the events that had caused that particular injury.
Besides, it was all he could do to just stand there calmly and not pull her into his arms as an image of her lying beneath him tore through his mind.
She turned to head back to his bed where she had left her accouterments.
He stared at her trim back, but it was her hips that held the most appeal for him. Well-shaped and round, they beckoned a man in a way most carnal. Indeed, he could easily imagine walking up behind her, lifting the hem of her dress and burying himself deep inside her until he fully sated the fire in his groin.
“My wounds are fine,” Sin snapped, wanting her out of his room immediately.
