A Little Night Muse(23)

                He frowned. “You need something strong for these                     abrasions.”

                She waited with her hands outthrust. “Trust me, this is                     strong.”

                If he told her to scoot closer to him, the movement might undo                     her towel, so he crooked one knee onto the bed beside her.

                But he kept one foot on the floor behind him.

                He scooped the satiny-smooth salve onto two fingers. Gingerly,                     he took her hand in his and rubbed the salve around one wrist. God, her skin was                     so softer. Not a single rough spot of hard work on her hands, and her wrists                     were as delicate as a newborn foal’s fetlock, slender tendons sliding under his                     thumb.

                “Who hurt you?” He tried to keep his voice as gentle as his                     touch though a fury tightened his throat.

                “It’s not important.”

                “It is to me.” He raised his gaze to hers. “No man should treat                     you like this.”

                “What makes you think it was a man?” When he paused in his                     gentle massage, she gave him a half-quirk of a smile. “So tell me, Josh, how                     would you treat me?”

                She rotated her hands under his to wrap her fingers around his                     wrists in loose manacles. Though she left no marks like the scorched lines                     around her wrists, her touch heated his skin, and despite her delicate build, he                     did not think he could break her hold. Not that he wanted to be freed.

                With the barest tug, she pulled him forward so both his knees                     were on the bed. As his foot left the floor, he felt like he was falling, not                     onto the sunny bed but somewhere deeper, darker.

                His fingers tingled from the salve, and he wondered what was in                     it. That tingle was spreading all through his body.

                When he opened his mouth to answer—though he wasn’t sure what                     answer he would have given—she reached up to settle her forefinger over his                     bottom lip. The scent of wildflowers made his head spin. His mouth heated at the                     touch of her skin and the sweet salve.

                “Don’t tell me,” she murmured. “Show me.”