Page 85 of Flames and Blood

“It’s a good chair.”

“It’s a terrible chair. I can see the stuffing.”

“It will do.”

He crouches at the stove with his back to me and gets it lit. His sleeves are pushed up past the elbow. The muscle moves in his forearm when he works the door catch. His shirt has come loose at the back, and the whole line of him from shoulder to hip is right there in the firelight.

I sit down and pull my boots off, and take a great deal of interest in my own socks.

I want him.

My head keeps circling around to that, and it’s not getting any easier.

Is it the drug?

My body did strange things in that valley, and I haven’t fully trusted it since.

Maybe it’s gratitude. He did save me, after all. Or maybe a year without being touched like that? Maybe I’m just horny.

Nice, Kalli. Very classy.

But there’s got to be something to explain this nagging need.

What difference does it make? He turned you down.

I don’t know if he wants me at all, under whatever was making him careful that night. Maybe I’m just a job, and he’s being decent while he does it.

I’m not going to ask. Asking and finding out that he’s just being polite will make me want to crawl into a hole and die a quiet death.

So I won’t ask.

“How are your hands?” he asks, yanking me back to reality.

I stare blankly at my palms for a moment. “Fine,” I say. “Good as new.” I’d forgotten all about the blisters, to be honest. I took the wrappings off the day we left Aurora.

“Let me see.” He crosses the room to check. He takes my wrist and turns it over.

“I’m fine. Really.” I’m staring at where he’s examining my palm. His hand is twice the size of mine. It closes around my wrist with room to spare. He runs his thumb once across the new pink line where the burn was.

My whole body goes tight. Heat, fast, up through my chest and into my face. My breath catches on the way in. For one full second I want to close the gap between us and see what he does if I throw myself against him.

I don’t.

I pull my hand back carefully and fight down everything my body is screaming at me to do right now.

No.

Wrong, my dragon says.

She’s been quietly watching for two days, and she picks now to step in.

I said no, I tell her.

Heat comes up under my sternum, slow and even, and stays there.

“Are you okay?” He’s frowning at me. “You said your hands were fine.”

“They are.” My voice is too high.