and heat scorches my face.
I have no social skills. Way to be smooth.
He studies me. Something shifts in his gray eyes. I don't know what it is, but it burns my face further. He then turns to Penelope. "Axel said you stepped on something. Can I look at your foot?"
"Sure."
I'm relieved when he concentrates on Penelope, and I practice some breathing I learned in yoga class to try and calm my insides.
Penelope and I talk while Malin cleans the wound on her foot, but I barely comprehend what we are saying. Malin's eyes are on me. I feel his intense gaze but avoid him, trying to focus on Penelope but probably sounding like a blabbing idiot.
She excuses herself, and my heart beats faster. I slowly turn to Malin.
He has an amused grin on his face and is kneeling in front of me.
He thinks I'm a blubbering fool.
I am.
"May I take care of your scrapes?"
"I don't have any." These women have been in a pit for a long time and have more critical issues than my measly scrapes.
He drags his finger near some scratches from the jungle. "You do. I'd feel better if you let me clean them, ma belle."
I try not to squirm from the tingles racing up my arm. "Okay."
"Tell me if it hurts at any time." He gently wipes the dirt and blood off my arm.
Lime and leather. That's what he smells like.
So sexy.
I inhale deeply.
He freezes. "You okay?"
"Ummm...yeah."
His eyes drill into mine. Different grays pool together into a barely blue shade.
I've never seen eyes like his before. There's something kind and thoughtful about them but also a sense of danger. It's not the typical danger, where I feel he might hurt me. But there is no doubt about it. He's dangerous. I see it clearly.
And I'm attracted to it. It slaps me in the face and takes me by surprise.
Little, meek me, who everyone thinks is a weakling and treats as such, who usually runs as far away from anything representing the hint of not being safe, is one hundred percent drawn to him.
Is it him or the danger?
He is danger. It's both.
I can't be sure if what I'm seeing is only a representation of him being a rescue stud who willingly risks his life to save those whom he's never even met, or something else. My gut is telling me it's something more profound than what everyone else sees.
When he tears his eyes away, my breathing is heavy again. My breasts rise and fall faster, and I catch him glance at them, pause for a moment, then take a deep breath himself before focusing on my arm again. His expression changes. The tension in his jaw increases.
"Almost done," he mumbles and turns my arm slightly then freezes. His eyes lock on mine again. "Who bruised you?"
"What?" I look down. He has my sleeve moved up, and finger marks cover the inside of my biceps.
"Tell me what happened, ma belle." His voice is low, but the rage can't be missed.
Shame fills me. It's no different than how I feel about what Zaka did to me over twenty years ago.
Malin doesn't wait for me to answer. He shoves the other sleeve up and growls.
It's worse than my other side.
"Please tell me what happened."
Tears fill my eyes. I blink hard, willing myself, for once, not to cry and be the weak girl I always am. But I fail. "I don't... I can't..."
He swipes his finger on my cheek. "Okay. We will talk later about this."
I close my eyes and nod.
He leans closer. His breath hits my collarbone, and I shiver. "Where else did they bruise you?"
My stomach and back. I'm pretty sure my breasts.
"Nowhere."
"Ma belle, don't lie to me. I have arnica. It will help you heal faster."
I stay quiet.
He releases my sleeves and they fall back over my arms. The tube of arnica is in his kit, and he squeezes some on his fingers, then gently rubs it over my biceps. "Later tonight, when we go outside, will you show me? I can put it on in the dark so no one else can see. Would that be better?"
Your hands all over my body?
My initial reaction is conditioned from years of not letting anyone except Naomi or a handful of women I trust touch me. Men are not part of that equation. I open my mouth to tell him no but hesitate and shut it.
He patiently waits for me to answer him.
"If I tell you to stop, will