Page 15 of Under His Guard

Luke perches on the edge of the couch with that damn grin plastered on his face, and I go to one knee in front of him so I can get a good look at his side.

Leaning over to pull my bag of supplies closer, I get stuff ready to change his bandage and ensure it’s clean.

When I look back up, Luke is staring down at me, his gaze lidded.

“Um, can you…take off your shirt?”

Flames, pure flames, dance in my cheeks. Which is stupid. You ask people to do this shit all the time. You’re just a doctor, for heaven’s sake.

He chuckles, and I hold back the swoon. “Already asking me to take my clothes off? Damn, you just got here. I’m impressed.”

I nervously scoff, snapping on my gloves, before I glance up and see Luke struggling to get the shirt over his head.

It’s clear that it’s uncomfortable, so I reach for the hem to help him.

He stills for a moment as my knuckles brush his side, and I work with him to get the tee off.

“Sorry, did I bump it? I thought I was being careful.”

Luke shakes his head. “Nah, darlin’, you’re fine.”

Do not. Do not even think about it. It’s just a word. Come on.

“Good.” I exhale shakily, sinking back to my knees. “Okay, I’m going to cut the old bandage away. The scissors might be cold.”

The need for concentration helps get me out of my head, and I take the scissors from my sterilized pack and slide them beneath the bandage.

“Oh,” he grumbles. “Yes, they are really cold.”

His skin ripples with goose bumps, and a part of me is desperate to take these gloves off so I can feel his skin properly.

Still, the binding cuts clean, and I pull it free from the smaller bandage taped down over the fresh sutures.

“There’s no excess drainage or discoloration. And it’s not inflamed or seeping, so that’s good.”

Luke adjusts, his knee bumping against my arm as I hover over his midsection.

“No signs of infection. Swell, doc.”

He uses the old term as a joke, but I’m a little struck by his awareness of what I’m looking for.

“No, none that I can see right now. Fever, excess pain? Anything like that?”

“Nope. I’m solid.” He smiles, and our stares hold for too long.

Blinking away, I go back to the pad on his side. I want to change that, too.

“Okay, this might pull.”

Working the bandage free, I remove it and lay it with the other wrappings to be tossed out.

His sutures look good. Of course, the area is a bit angry—slashed and poked as it was—but it’s healing over nicely.

“No pus or anything. Good scabbing. These look great.”

“Gee, doc, you certainly know how to make a guy feel attractive. No pus, huh?” Luke is all teasing smirk when I look up at him from beneath my lashes.

I laugh. Luke is such a jokester. It’s so unlike me. I smell his body wash on his skin, putting together that he must’ve just showered.

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