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Chapter Five
She was pretty, Dante thought to himself as he passed Shyla the mug of warm cocoa.
Despite the blood which matted her bedraggled hair and the bruise which was forming on the side of her face, all the way from her temple to her cheekbone; one which held the promise of a yellow and purple palette. Despite the dark circles that ringed her eyes, the rat nest of dark hair, and the unhealthy pallor of her skin. Despite lips that were cracked and chapped from the wind and cold; she was still pretty.
He thought she would probably transcend to beautiful under normal circumstances, because God knew, nothing about this was normal.
The thoughts irked him because he didn’t want to think of her like that.
His brothers were pandering to her, not that he begrudged her the care she needed, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious.
Okay, so she wasn’t running around screaming obscenities at them because she’d woken up naked in a small cabin with three strangers, but that could still change.
In fact, he admitted grudgingly to himself, she’d been remarkably chilled about it all, other than jumping out of the bed this morning and proceeding to fall on him.
And really, who could blame her. She was a single, injured woman and they were three men. He didn’t think they’d ever class as intimidating, but in a situation like this, perhaps intimidating was a state of mind.
Yeah. She was pretty chill. He respected that.
As much as he worried about his brothers, he could still accept how difficult all of this was for her.
Hell. If he looked at it from her point of view, it must be terrifying.
It was that single thought that drove him to question her.
“How are you feeling now? Do you need another painkiller?”
“Another?” she asked with a frown, gazing at him with wide, guileless brown eyes.
“We gave you a couple last night after we got here. They were the ones you had in your pack, so we decided they must be safe for you to take, or you wouldn’t be carrying them.”
“Oh. Right. Yes. Thank you.”
She winced as Jeri - or maybe it was Lazarus - hit a particularly sore spot. She bore it well and while she did, Dante found a couple of painkillers. Shyla was a trooper, but she could do with some help.
He was happy to give it, despite his reservations.
But the situation was what it was and right now they were all stuck here together so they might as well make the best of it.
She took the painkillers and swallowed them down with her cocoa. The fact that she didn’t refuse them made Dante realize she was in more pain than she let on.
When she finished the small portion of hot chocolate and handed back the cup, he passed her the small tin he’d found in her medical pouch.
“What...? Oh! Thank you! This is just what I need,” she exclaimed as she pulled the lid off the small tub of Vaseline and rubbed some on her lips. The smile she gave him was blinding. The gratitude reflected in her eyes, genuine.
“Is that Vaseline?” Jeri asked. “I could use some of that on this cut.”
“Vaseline?” Shyla queried.
“Yep, if I slick some on the wound it will keep the edges moist and help the skin fuse back together without scarring,” he told her.
She passed him the small pot and Dante remembered there’d been a couple of adhesive medical pads in the pouch which would keep the wound clean. He hurried off to get one.
When she was finally cleaned up, Lazarus helped Shyla to her feet, so she didn’t have to put weight on her ankle, then scooped her up in his arms and placed her on the couch.
She clung onto his neck but didn’t appear to be anything but grateful for their attention.
Jeri followed behind with the blanket and tucked it around her legs and Dante decided it was time to rustle up some food from their meagre supplies. He didn’t know about the others, but he was starving. It had been almost twenty-four hours since they’d had any food, and who knew when the girl had eaten last.
