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Eloise finished dressing his wound and wrapped it tenderly with the cloth. Hades breathed loudly, his powerful chest rising and falling with each intake of breath. His clothing was bloody, and she couldn’t allow him to sleep like that.
She reached a hand and touched his shoulder. “I need to undress you.”
Hades shook off her hand with a growl, “No.”
“I need to wash off the blood and make sure you’re not hurt elsewhere,” she said stubbornly.
“I’ll do it myself. Leave me here.”
Eloise frowned at him. “I just dressed your wound. If you think I’ll let my efforts go to waste, you are mistaken. You might be hurt elsewhere, and I can’t know for certain until I take off your bloody shirt.”
She reached for him, and Hades tried to lift his arms, but it seemed that his strength gave out, and he fell back against the back of the chair.
“Ava,” he murmured.
Eloise looked at him strangely. Wasn’t that the name of his dead sister? Was he speaking with the dead already?
“I am not Ava,” she said quietly. “I’m Eloise.”
“Only Ava could touch me. My little sister. I don’t allow anyone else to—” He broke off and closed his eyes again.
Eloise crouched on her knees in front of him and looked into his gray face. “I understand. I also have a brother. And I cleaned more than one of his wounds. I want to help you. Let me.”
Hades nodded and threw his head back as if giving her access to do as she pleased. There was blood all around his shirt, and in places, it was stuck to his body.
Eloise quickly tried to undo the buttons on his shirtsleeves, but her fingers trembled, and it was taking way too much time. Hades groaned. He sat up and then slowly bent down, his face almost resting in the crook of her shoulder.
Eloise frowned. Did he want her to comfort him? Was he too tired to lie in one position? Or had he mistaken her for Ava again and was trying to cry on her shoulder?
Either way, Eloise put a hand to the back of his head and ran her fingers through his hair, leaning her cheek against the side of his head. He was warm, a little too warm, and possibly coming up with a fever.
Hades coughed as he straightened. “I thought you might use this,” he said and handed her a knife he pulled out of his boot. A smirk adorned his plump, if dry lips.
He was laughing at her.The cad!
Eloise’s cheeks heated. “Lay back!” she said sternly, concentrating on the task at hand and trying to brush off how she had completely mistaken his intention and caressed him.
She cut through his shirt and tried peeling it away from his body, but parts of it were stuck. Eloise grimaced.
She took a pitcher of water and slowly lifted the fabric.
“Why do you not allow anyone to touch you?” she asked.
“I don’t like it,” he said between his teeth.
“You do not like my touch?” Eloise frowned, finally lifting the entire shirt away from his body.
She discarded it and proceeded to wipe the blood and grime from his body. Hades’ covered her hand with his, halting her progress. “Not yours.”
“Pardon me?” Eloise raised her brow.
“Not your touch. Yours just… confuses me.”
Eloise swallowed. “Confuses you how?”
Hades closed his eyes again and didn’t answer. Eloise looked at the exposed column of his throat, his hard chest, and wanted to run her fingers along his body. She shouldn’t be paying attention to this when he was in pain, but she couldn’t help it.
His skin was silky and soft to touch, with hard muscles underneath. He was a beautiful human being, like one of those god statues, if one disregarded the blood and the numerous scars.
