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Return of the Warrior
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Royal Lockdown
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"What? What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Chase asked urgently.

Julienne pulled up her pants leg, inspected her ankle. Where her foot had plunged through the floorboards, the skin was raw and scraped.

"You're bleeding," he said, and she realized that he had instinctively moved closer to her.

"I'll be fine."

"You can get a nasty infection — unless we clean that up."

She might have protested, but she knew he was right. So she let him lead her back down the hall to the den.

Sinking into the chair where she'd been sitting previously, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, trying to hold herself together.

Out in the hallway, she heard stamping noises and thought Chase was probably testing the floor to make sure there wouldn't be any other nasty surprises.

When she heard his footsteps returning, her eyes snapped open. He was carrying the camp flashlight, a bowl of water, paper towels, and a first aid kit.

He set the light on the floor where it could shine on her leg. Then he hunkered down beside her chair.

"Chère, I'm going to wash the wound, then put on antiseptic. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed, struggling to keep her voice steady.

She watched as he dipped the towel into the water.

When his fingers touched her ankle, she sucked in a small breath, held herself rigid.

His ministrations were gentle as he cleaned her injured flesh, then brought the flashlight closer so he could inspect the wound.

"I don't see any splinters. Do you feel any?"

"I don't think so."

"Good."

He swabbed on the antiseptic, and she couldn't hold back a small sound as she felt the sting.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

She watched him retrieve a roll of gauze, watched him slip off her shoe so he could wind the bandage under her heel and around her ankle. As his fingers moved against her skin, she shivered, but she didn't draw away. After he'd tied the end of the gauze, he kept hold of her.

"I'd forgotten how small your feet are," he murmured, stroking his finger under her arch.

She remembered long ago when he'd held her foot like this. "You used to tease me about them. You told me they looked like they belonged to a little kid."

"You remember that?" he asked with a laugh.

"Um-hum."

"Now I think they're very feminine," he said, clasping her flesh more tightly.

He stared up at her, simply stroking her foot, his fingers playing with her heel, her instep. His touch felt good, so good that she ached to forget her fears. But they were still there, in the background, ready to overwhelm her if she thought he were going to make demands she couldn't meet.

He must have sensed her uncertainty, because he gently slid her slipper back on and stood, wiping his hands across the knees of his pants.

She pushed herself out of the chair, tested the injured ankle.

"All right?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Then we should go to bed," he said. "And in the morning, I'm going to take a good look at that floor."

The suddenly sharp tone of his voice made her heartbeat quicken.

"What are you saying?" she asked.

"The boards didn't break by themselves. Someone cut through them."

To be continued...



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