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He dragged the wet cloth down over her arm again and it caused no new sparks of pain.
Only then could she venture a look at her arm. It still throbbed, pain webbed over the whole area, but it was the kind of pain that came with relief.
“Did we get them all?” His stare was intent on her face.
She nodded. “I think so. Thank you.”
Rafe heaved a breath and stood, going over to the table and pouring another glassful of the Madeira. He took a long sip, draining half the glass, and then he offered it to her.
She took it, knowing what was coming next. The job was only half done. And this next part was going to require a little more fortitude on her part.
A little more trust.
But it needed to happen.
Finishing the glass in short order, she handed it back to him.
He set it onto the table and approached her cautiously, moving to the fireside of the bed. His eyes had reset into their usual cold detachment.
She watched him, her hand curling into her shift. The arm had been fine. He could see her arm. But this…this was different.
It was just her leg. Just her leg.
He waved over the length of the bed. “If it’s on the back of your thigh, best to lie down on your belly.”
She nodded, swallowing hard.
Just do it and be done with it.
She slid down onto the length of the bed, settling on her stomach with her left leg closest to the fire and her head turned toward him.
His look focused on her legs buried under her shift and his mouth twitched to the side, displeasure narrowing his eyes. Was he looking at the blood soaked into the fabric? She’d seen the crimson edges of the dark, dried blood staining the white of her shift as she’d gotten out of her skirt, but couldn’t see the extent of it.
That had been the problem with her leg.
The glass was embedded into the back of her thigh and she’d tried to remove it.
Clawed at it.
Her fingernails had dug into her skin, but she couldn’t see what she was clawing at and had only made the problem worse.
His glare didn’t move off her legs. “Do you want to move your shift or should I do it?”
“I’ll do it.”
“Should I turn around?”
A kindness she wasn’t expecting, and it helped.
“Please.”
He turned around and she reached down to her sides, bunching up the fabric in her grip. It was an awkward position to tug the linen up her sides, as her arms were mostly behind her. Then came the tricky part. She could feel the bottom edge of the fabric hit the middle of her upper thighs, so she attempted to tuck a strip in over her crotch even as she pulled the shift farther up on her left leg.
She knew the embedded glass went far up her leg. High. To the cheek of her butt.
Her eyes closed and she twisted to the left, trying to bare and cover at the same time.
After minutes of adjusting and readjusting, she had what she hoped was all the skin with glass embedded in it showing, while her private area was concealed.
