B00CGOH3US EBOK (37 page)

"Put me down."

"Nay, we must—"

"
Nay
, we must stop. You have to rest. I think we've put enough distance behind us to take a five minute break."

His jaw tensed and she could tell he wanted to argue, but his body disagreed and his shaky arms released her. Pain shot up her legs when her feet touched the ground. She bit back a groan. If Baelin could carry her through the woods with an arrow sticking out of his wing, she could handle a few thorns in her feet.

"Now, let's take a look at that wing."

As she reached for him, he spun away. "Do not touch it. My blood is on the arrow. Remember, it will burn you."

Jill paused. As a matter of fact, she had forgotten. "Well, you can't walk around with an arrow sticking out of your wing for the rest of your life and you certainly can't pull it out yourself, can you?"

He tried to reach around and grasp the arrow shaft, but it was at an awkward angle. As he tugged, he grimaced in pain.

"Stop. You're only going to make it worse. Let me help. I promise I'll be careful."

He glanced at the trees behind them. "We should not tarry here."

"We can tarry long enough to bandage your wing. You know, you don't always have to play the big, tough hero. Every now and then you can let somebody else take care of you."

She could see her words stunned him as he struggled to process their meaning.

"Someone to take care of me, a dragon-knight?" He shook his head in disbelief. "No one has offered to do that in a long, long time."

"Well, I'm offering now, so stop stalling and sit." She pointed at a fallen tree. To her surprise he obeyed, probably more relieved to have an excuse to rest than because she'd told him to do it.

Jill moved behind him and noticed several holes in the webbing of both wings where arrows had gone all the way through.

"It looks like they hit you more than once. Do any of these hurt?"

Baelin fanned his other wing wide and poked a finger through one of the punctures. "Nay, 'tis not much feeling in this part of my wings. These will heal quickly."

"Must be like getting your ears pierced. All skin and few nerves."

She turned her attention to the arrow protruding from his wing. It was sticking out half on one side and half on the other near the shoulder so that he couldn't fold his wing properly. It would have to come out if he ever hoped to fly again.

"I'm no doctor, but it looks like this one went through the muscle. Hopefully it missed any bone. There are bones in your wings, aren't there?"

Baelin shrugged. Guess he wasn't sure either.

"I think I can get it out. Do you still have your dagger?"

He arched a suspicious brow at her. "What are you going to do?"

"Don't look so worried, you big baby. I figure we just need to cut off one end so we can slide the arrow out without tearing a bigger hole."

He nodded, surprised. "Aye, 'tis how it is done. You are very wise, for one unaccustomed to arrow wounds."

"Yeah, well, lately I've gotten very good at medieval improvisation."

She used the knife to carve a groove around the shaft. She tried to do it as gently as possible, without moving his wing. He sat there and did not make a sound.

She gripped the shaft with both hands and snapped the feathered end off. That part done, she looked at the dark blood coating the rest of the arrow where it had come out the other side, wondering how she was going to be able to grab it to pull it out. She lightly tapped the shaft with her fingers, testing to see how bad the blood would burn, each contact lasting a little longer until she felt it was safe to touch.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he twisted his head, trying to look over his shoulder.

"Stop wiggling. I'm seeing just how nasty this blood of yours really is."

She wrapped her hand around the shaft. It was warm to the touch, but it didn't burn.

"Nay, my lady, do not—"

"Take it easy. It's okay. It's not burning me." She cocked her head, pondering why that was. "Either as the blood dries, it loses its toxicity, or after that trial by iron, hot sticks don't faze me anymore."

"Truly?" Baelin sounded surprised himself.

Jill shrugged. "Ours is not to wonder why. Let's just be grateful for the little things and get this over with." She took a deep breath and blew it out. "Okay, brace yourself. I'm going to pull it through now."

His hands gripped his knees and he nodded. She placed one hand on his shoulder, grabbed the arrow shaft with the other and pulled it through with one swift yank.

"There. Almost done." She watched as fresh blood welled up and dripped down his wing. "Although I'm not exactly sure how to bandage this thing."

She dropped the broken arrow on the ground and reached for the hem of her smock. "You know, if we don't stop hurting ourselves, I'm liable to use the last piece of clothing I have left and end up walking around naked."

Baelin spun around and grabbed her wrist, stopping her as she made the first tear. Startled, she looked at him and realized the visual image her words had probably put into his head.

She'd been right. The want, the desire, was there, evident in his golden eyes. She watched the muscles in his throat working as if he was trying to swallow down the emotions. He broke the contact first, releasing her wrist and worked at the ties to his surcoat.

"Nay, use this instead."

Jill didn't argue. She used his dagger to cut the garment into long strips with trembling hands. Holy cow. She didn't have to be a scientist to feel the volatile chemistry brewing on the air, and it wasn't all coming from the man before her. She was giving off a good deal of it herself, and it scared the hell out of her.

She wrapped several strips around his wing, careful not to touch the fresh blood oozing from the puncture wound. Thankfully, the arrow struck at the narrowest part of his wing, where it sprouted out of his back. Otherwise, there wouldn't be enough clothing between the two of them to bandage it, and then they'd both be walking around naked.

A shot of pure lust rocked through Jill's body as she recalled how good Baelin's naked body looked by the firelight in the cave. Okay, so now was not the most convenient time to be having hot and heavy fantasies about the wounded man in front of her. For heaven's sake, he still had on his mail, complete with all the padding that went underneath, yet her mind had stripped him naked in a matter of seconds. What was wrong with her?

"There." She finished the last knot and stepped back, needing a big breath of air to clear her head. "It may not be pretty, but I think it'll do."

Baelin stood and tested the wing, completely oblivious to the lascivious visions torturing Jill's vivid imagination.

"Aye, 'twill do. I do not think any permanent damage has been done. I may be able to fly again in a day or two. Well done, my lady."

Jill made a small curtsy. "Doctor Donahue at your service. Take two aspirin and call me in the morning."

Baelin frowned at her, confused. Great, she was babbling nonsense again. She couldn't be any more awkward if she tried.

His gaze traveled her body and his frown hardened when it stopped at her feet. "My lady! I am not the only one injured. We must see to your feet."

She looked down and sure enough, her feet were a throbbing, bloody mess. Nothing in her modern world had conditioned her for running through the woods barefoot.

"Sit and I will tend them."

She did as he asked, taking his seat on the log, the bark still warm from his body.

He knelt before her and lifted her foot, carefully cleaning the leaves and dirt from the worst of the cuts. Water would've been nice, but there wasn't a stream or brook in sight. He kept his head lowered, intent on his task.

He was being very tender, but he could have taken sandpaper to her toes and she wouldn't have noticed. All the feeling in her body was no longer focused on the pain in her feet, but up higher, where his hand cupped her calf. Tingles radiated out from the spot and she could feel her pulse pounding just under the skin. Could he feel it too? The moan she tried to suppress came out sounding more like a groan.

His eyes flew to her face. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. You have a gentle touch. I hardly felt a thing."
Liar
.

Jill mentally shook herself and tried to shift her mind off this train of thought. "I wish I'd gotten to say goodbye to Owen."

Baelin returned to tending her feet. "It could not be helped."

"I know." She looked at his bowed head, her hand itching to run her fingers through his hair. She gave herself bonus points for controlling the urge. "So, do you think Roderick will keep his word and not come after us?"

"I do not know. Though some men claim themselves knights, they do not always live by the code. Kendale? Perhaps he is honorable enough. In the short time we knew him, I would like to think him to be true to his word. But after taking you, I am no longer so certain." Baelin paused in his task and stared at the ground. "How could I have been so wrong? For a time, I thought him a friend."

"And you were his."

"Then he was a friend I nearly killed. If you had not stopped me…" He shook his head. "I hated him for taking you from me. I could have killed him for it and not thought twice."

"But you didn't."

He didn't respond, but continued in his task, cutting more strips from his surcoat and wrapping her feet.

"For what it's worth, I don't think you were wrong about Roderick. Neither of us were. He's a good man." Jill took a deep breath and pressed on, needing to fill the tense silence surrounding them. "Sometimes, when you're taught all your life that something is one way, it's hard to accept what you thought was right might have been wrong all along. Given time to think about it, I believe Roderick will come to realize he was wrong about you, just like you're wrong about him. You can't blame him for doing what he believed was right any more than he can blame you for being a dragon."

Finished wrapping her feet, Baelin leaned back and surveyed his handiwork. He swore under his breath. "If that is what you believe, then perhaps I should have left you with him. With me, you have known naught but pain."

"But I'm not with him and I don't want to be. You and I, we're in this thing together."

He shook his head. "At least with him, you would be safe. Now that the Dark Witch knows of you, your life will always be in danger."

"Then I can think of no better person to be with."

"I am honored you have such faith in me." Baelin sat taller as his eyes searched her face, serious, intense. "Know this, my lady. As long as you are with me, I will allow no more harm to befall you. I will use all that is within my power to keep you safe and I will gladly lay down my life to protect you."

She looked at his handsome face, illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the treetops, and knew he spoke the truth.

He would die for her.

She didn't think there was another person on this earth—in this time or hers—who would so freely say the same.

She wanted to say something, but the words refused to come. She looked at him, sitting there on his knees in front of her, so big and brave and yet suddenly so vulnerable.

Then his gaze dropped and focused in on her mouth. In an instant, those eyes of his shifted from chocolate brown to a glowing gold, hinting at the fire constantly burning inside of him. She watched his body tense from the force of holding back, his fists gripping his thighs as if he didn't, they might reach out and grab her of their own accord.

He wanted to kiss her. Wanted it so desperately she felt it with every fiber of her being. But he wouldn't, not when he thought she saw him as a monster.

No, with a man like Baelin, it would be up to her to make the first move.

And so she did.

She leaned in and cupped his handsome face in her hands, brushing his mouth with a gentle kiss, showing him with an action better than words that she thought him no beast.

 
She felt his shock, his initial resistance. When he tried to pull back, she held on, tunneling her fingers into his hair and clasping the nape of his neck. She increased the pressure, crushing his mouth with hers, nipping at his lips with her teeth, probing the crease of his lips with her tongue. She felt the moment of his surrender in the relaxing of his shoulders, in the growl that erupted from deep inside him before he wrapped his arms around her and returned her kiss.

His hands touched the skin of her back where the torn smock gapped open. He pulled away, as if the feel of her exposed skin shocked him. He looked at her, confusion warring with the desire in his eyes.

Before she could stop him, Baelin pushed himself away from her, stood and walked away.

She swayed, feeling suddenly cold and weak without his arms around her.

What just happened? They'd been kissing. A hot, sizzling kiss that had sent tingles zinging all the way down to her toes. She'd been thoroughly enjoying herself. So what did she do wrong? Had she offended him? Had she misread all the signals?