Page 66 of Steel Vengeance

He looked away.

So that’s how it’s gonna be, is it? Just pretend like it didn’t happen.

Fine.

She unbuttoned her shirt and slid it off her injured arm. He helped, gently holding her elbow. She wanted to pull away, especially after last night’s disaster, but she needed his help.

“Let me take a look,” he said, in medic mode, calm and professional.

He stood right in front of her, his legs between hers, wearing jeans that hugged his thighs a little too perfectly and a black T-shirt stretched over his muscular chest.

Memories of last night hit her like a tidal wave.

His hand in her hair, holding her head still as he kissed her.

His rock-solid body under hers, their legs tangled together.

She sucked in a ragged breath and focused on his hands as he undid her bandage, trying not to notice how close he was or the clean, masculine scent that filled the air. His chest was inches away, and if she looked down?—

Hell, no.

She wasn’t going there.

Then the bandage was off.

Stitch frowned as he inspected the wound.

He leaned in closer to get a better look. His breath brushed against her chest, making her nipples react under her bra. She had to fight the urge to grip his hair and draw his head down to hers.

“What?” she asked, her mind barely able to focus.

“It’s a little inflamed. I’m gonna give you another antibiotic shot.” He straightened up.

“Is it bad?”

“Not too bad, but I don’t want it to get infected.”

He turned and dug through his medical kit, pulling out a syringe and a small vial. After drawing the liquid into the syringe, he tapped it to get rid of the air bubbles.

“This’ll sting for a second,” he said before jabbing it into her shoulder.

She gritted her teeth at the sting.

“Sorry.”

He removed the needle, capped it, and tossed it into the wastepaper basket. She remembered seeing him do the same thing with Fatima.

“All done,” he said. “Now let me rewrap it.”

He placed a fresh strip of gauze over her stitches. The skin was puckered and warm to the touch. She shivered as he smoothed down the edges.

Then came the torturous part—winding the bandage around her arm.

With every turn, the back of his hand brushed against her breast. By the time he was finished, she was a hot mess of molten heat. Any longer, and she would have spontaneously combusted.

“Thanks,” she croaked when he was done.

He gave a tight nod. “No problem.”