“It would have served you right.” She grimaced. “But you would have probably spent the night teaching him some more miraculous tricks that would make Olivia forgive you anything.”
He shrugged. “I might be out of tricks.”
“You’re never out of tricks.” She reached up and wearily rubbed her temple. “Go home, Lynch. You’ve saved me from Harley and all I want to do now is get to bed.”
“I can’t do that. I’m under strict orders. You heard Olivia, I have to take care of you.” He held up his hand as she opened her lips. “Don’t stress it. I promise I’m not going to make anything difficult for you. Consider this a time-out. I’m just going to take a look at your hand and rebandage it. It’s all part of the service.”
“What service?”
“When you agreed to let me come back to work on this case, I told you I’d watch your back.” He added lightly, “You can see how patching up wounds is essential to doing that. Now go sit down at the dining room table while I get the first-aid kit out of the bathroom vanity. It’s still there?”
“Yes.” She stood watching as he went into the bathroom. Of course he knew where she kept the first-aid kit. She’d known him a long time, in so many ways, and binding each other’s wounds had been a part of it. But so was trusting each other’s promises, and he’d given her one not to cause her any stress tonight. Right now that was far more important.
She went to the chair at the table and dropped down on it. She winced as the back of the chair pressed the bruise on her spine.
“Here we go.” Lynch set a bowl of water and the first-aid kit down on the table beside her. “Shouldn’t take any time at all.” He sat down in the chair next to her. “Okay?”
“Sure. Just get it done.”
“As soon as I take this bit of paper towel off your palm and make sure the wound is clean. Paper towel?” He shook his head. “What were you thinking?”
“That I’d take care of it when I got home,” she said defensively. “It was barely bleeding.”
“And you had too many other things to worry about at the time. Like Dietrich, and how banged up you were in other places.” He carefully removed the towel that was sticking to the cut. “Not too bad. You broke the scab but you probably didn’t bleed much. Why didn’t you get Metcalf to fix it at the FBI office? He would have been delighted.”
“It wouldn’t have been professional. Everyone was too busy. Besides, I didn’t need anyone to bandage it. I’m not helpless and I’m tired of being treated as if I am. First Jessie and now you? I told you that it only bled a little.” She looked him in the eye. “I can do it myself. It’s not as if I wouldn’t have done that anyway if you hadn’t caused such a fuss.”
“I realize that you don’t need me,” he said soothingly. “Just lean back and let me feel important for the next few moments and then it will be over.” He was carefully cleaning the wound and then adding salve and a new bandage. “There.” He got to his feet, went to the bar, and poured them both glasses of wine. “All better.” He handed a glass to her. “Now drink it down and maybe it will help you sleep. You’re moving very stiffly and I’d suggest that you take another hot shower instead, but I don’t know how steady you are right now.” He grinned. “And I don’t think you’d let me take one with you to make sure you don’t fall.”
“You’ve got that right,” she said dryly. “And I didn’t think I was moving all that stiffly. No one else noticed it.”
“No one else has my eagle eyes.” He lifted his glass in a half toast. “Or my total dedication to watching your back.” He set his glass down on the table and got to his feet. “Which led me to seeing that you need a little more service than I originally intended. Bend your neck and look down at the table.”
She instinctively tensed. “Why?”
“Because Olivia wouldn’t be pleased with me. I didn’t do a good job. You could hardly turn your neck when you took that glass from me. Do what I tell you.”
She slowly bent her neck. Then he was behind her, his thumbs on her nape, massaging.