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Jesus, she was a tough nut to crack. She really wasn’t going to ask. Wasn’t even going to acknowledge she wanted to. He opened the Band-Aid and placed it across the cut with practiced precision. She refused to admit it bothered her if he had a date lined up for later today? Fine. Far be it from him to force unwanted information on her. He busied himself putting the kit in order. Finally, he tipped his head and eyed her.
She sat in his passenger seat, huddled in his hoodie with her ponytail askew, her sweatpants dusty, and her bandaged knee.
Fuck it.
“Just so we’re clear, I wouldn’t impose any rules on you that I wasn’t willing to abide by myself.” Having tossed that out there, he worked her pant leg down over her knee.
Something landed on his shoulder. Her hand. It rested there. “What does that mean, exactly?”
He smoothed her sweats to her ankle, and then slid his hand beneath her knee and lifted it. “It means when I put down the caveat about nobody else touching you, except me, the same applied to me. Nobody’s touching me except you.”
Across the parking lot, a tour guide conveyed instructions to the flock of cyclists, but his confession elicited no response from his patient. He looked up to find her blushing.
“Well that’s very…none of my business.”
Maybe she wanted to believe as much, but her blush said differently. “It’s a fact. I’ll tell you another, Czarina. I don’t want anybody touching me, except you.” Because the truth of that rattled him more than he wanted to admit, he added, “Does this hurt?” and slowly extended her leg, supporting the back of her knee as he went.
“Huh? Oh. No.”
“How about this?” He guided her leg into a bent position, and then into a deeper bend, keeping an eye on her face.
“It’s all good.”
No twinges of pain tightened her lips. Her expression matched her words. “Great. Take the Band-Aid off tonight. As long as it’s not giving you any trouble, you can leave it uncovered.” He gathered up the wrappers.
“Hey, Rider?”
“What?”
She brushed his hair away from his forehead and waited until he looked at her. “Thank you.”
He closed the first-aid kit. “All part of the service.” But when he would have stood, she put her hand on her shoulder again.
“Thank you for telling me what you told me. I”—she glanced away, squinting into the distance as she chose her words—“I know this is temporary. We both have our reasons, we’ve been up-front about that, and I don’t have a right to ask questions, but—”
That was all he needed to hear. She felt it, too, even if she didn’t like to admit it. He leaned in and kissed her. Long, hard, and possessive as hell. The kiss conveyed all the things neither of them wanted him to say out loud.
You’re mine, Czarina. You were mine the moment I set eyes on you, and you’ll be mine for the term of our deal. I really don’t give a shit how that sounds.
When he’d stamped that on every part of her mouth, he drew away. She rested her cheek against his. “Okay. I’m glad we talked about this.”
He laughed. “Me, too. Anything else you want to discuss before we go?”
“No.” Smiling, she shook her head. “I’m good.”
So she said, and they’d nearly made it back to the resort before he caught her flexing her knee and aiming a sidelong glance at him.
“Is the knee bothering you?”
“Uh-uh. It feels fine.”
“Why the look, then?”
“Just puzzling over your many talents.”
“Am I many-talented?” He steered the Jeep around a turn and flicked his sunglasses down to combat the glare.
She held up a finger, to count off this first talent. “First aid.”
