To Trap A Temptress (Southern Sanctuary - Book 2) by Jane Cousins Page B

to Nell.  “We start with the ankle, what do you
need?”
    “There
should be a small jar with bluish green ointment.”
    While
she cleaned the puncture wounds with salt water, hissing softly through
clenched teeth Drum found the jar, gently he brushed away her hands to pick up
her foot placing it in his lap, running warm slightly roughened but ultimately
soothing hands up and down her calf.   
    “I
can do it.”  She attempted to retrieve her ankle.
    “Lean
back.  Rest.  I’ve got it.” 
    The
scowl never left his face as with hooded eyes he began applying the ointment to
her ankle with the same type of concentration she’d witnessed surgeons perform
heart operations.  It wasn’t like she could yank her foot out of his
grasp, so instead she leant back on her good arm and watched him work. 
Beads of water glistened in his brutally short hair as he bent over to work the
ointment in with surprising gentleness.  Silence continued to stretch
between them, beginning to border on awkward.   Warily she eyed the scowl furrowing his forehead.
    “Are
you angry with me… that I went off alone?”
    Drum
gave no indication he’d heard her question.  Nell rolled her eyes, was he
really giving her the silent treatment because she’d gone back on her
promise?  There had been others in the water when she’d entered so
technically she hadn’t really gone off alone.  Studying him she hoped the
wind wouldn’t change, if he continued to look that angry he’d scare small
children. 
    “Are
you angry… that I got hurt?”
    That
particular question got his attention, his eyes snapping up to meet hers for a
split second, flashing inky black.  “Died Doc.  You almost died.”
    She
bit back a sigh of relief as her homemade ointment began to work, the tingle of
healing magic sending a small shudder through her.  Okay she might need to
rework the mixture if it had a sexual component to it.  Either that or the
way Drum’s thumb was caressing the back of her calf was beginning to affect her
now that the pain had receded.
    “So
you’re angry with me because I almost died?”
    With
exquisite care Drum placed her foot back in his lap, picking through the first
aid box he chose a waterproof bandage.  “I’m not sure if what I feel would
be described as anger exactly.”  He focused solely on her ankle as he began
to strap it with brusque efficiency that spoke of years of experience with
battlefield dressing.  “I think I’m looking back on anger in the rear view
mirror right about now and tailgating hot blistering rage.”
    “Is
that why you won’t look at me?”
    “I’m
tending your wounds here Doc… priorities.”
    “I
appreciate the attention to detail don’t get me wrong but your bedside manner
could use a little work.”
    “Fuck
Doc.  Give me a break would you.  I’m hanging by a thread here.”
    “They
say confession is good for the soul soldier.  Admit that you’re angry with
me, yell at me, scold me.  Keeping all your emotions bottled up like this,
it really can’t be good for you.”
    “I’m
warning you now Doc, you of all people really don’t want me to give in to what
I’m feeling right at this moment.” 
    He
propped her canvas bag under her foot to keep it elevated and then held out his
hand.  Nell stared at that large calloused hand in confusion for a split
second before she realised he wanted to check out her bruised forearm. 
Sitting up she reluctantly held it out for his inspection. 
    “Why
me... of all people?”  She enquired curiously, nodding when he held up the
ointment.
    “For
a sane rational ‘good girl’ Doctor you sure do like to poke the bear a lot
don’t you?”
    “In
this scenario you’re the bear?”  She enquired all too sweetly.
    He
choked back a gruff rumbling laugh, the furrow in his brow slowly starting to
lessen.  “Yes little girl, in this scenario I’m the bear.”  He
finished with her arm; twisting the lid back on the ointment jar he placed