Ill Wind Page 0,44

His eyes were clearer, anyway, but his hair still stuck up in wet porcupine quills and gave him a vulnerable look.

"Better."

"Good." I reached for the coffee cake I'd put out on the counter and winced as another muscle group went on strike. "Wish I could say the same."

I didn't see him move toward me, and the shock of his warm hands on my back came as a surprise.

"Do you mind?" he asked.

"Um, hardly."

He moved his large, capable hands down to my waist and dug his thumbs in, right where it hurt in the long muscles. Slow, deliberate pressure that hurt at first, then dissolved into absolute pleasure. I pulled in a slow breath, let it out, and felt tension leak away from shoulders to toes. "Whoa. Ever consider a career in massage therapy?"

"I'm open to new ideas." I could hear the smile in his voice. His thumbs pressed more lightly, in slow circles. "Feel good?"

"Any better, I'd lose motor skills."

"I'm sorry I pulled you into this," he said. His hands moved up, chasing the tension. "It was-a bad night."

"I've had a few," I admitted. "It's okay, you know. You can stay as long as you want to."

His hands made it to my shoulders and squeezed away hours of stress. "No, I really can't," he said. There were a lot of ways to interpret that, but if Lewis meant anything more intimate, I couldn't tell it from the slow, steady pressure of his fingers on pressure points. His thumbs dug into the nerve clusters just behind my shoulder blades, and I felt my knees go weak.

"So you're leaving."

I felt that smile again. "What can I say? I've always been a one-night stand." He smoothed my back with gentle strokes. "I have to go. If I stay with you, it just puts you in the fire with me. You don't need to attract their attention."

"Me?" I turned, startled, and found myself chest-to-chest with him. He didn't step back. "Why?"

"You know why." His brown eyes were bleak, but they never quite lost their edge of amusement. "They only like Wardens to have so much power. You- you're different. Not to mention uncontrollable."

"Hey!" I put my hands on his chest and shoved him back a step. "Watch it, buster."

"I didn't mean it in a bad way." He shrugged. "I mean they can't control you. So they'll be watching you, Jo. Don't give them a reason."

"You must still have a fever. I'm just Staff, for God's sake. Why would anybody be watching me?"

Lewis held up his hands in surrender. "Point taken. I'm probably wrong."

No, he wasn't. I could tell. I glared at him. "Don't bullshit me."

"Don't pretend you don't know what you are."

"Well, I don't know." I felt my face set into a frown. "You tell me."

He reached out and took my hand in his.

Skin on skin.

Sparks. Waves of power echoing through me, back to him, amplified as they returned to me.

I pulled free and stepped back until I felt the kitchen counter behind my back. For a few long seconds we just looked at each other, and then he nodded, reached around me to pick up his cup, and wandered back to the bathroom, sipping it.

I barely tasted mine, even though I drank the whole cup while watching the closed door.

When he came back out, he was dressed in the blue jeans, a loose green knit shirt, and hiking boots he'd been wearing when he arrived. Dry, at least. And with some color back in his too-thin face. I went in the bathroom and grabbed the box of cold medicine, added it to a bag of snacks and bottles of water. As care packages go, it wasn't much. I tossed in the contents of my wallet, which didn't make an impressive addition, and handed it to him.

His fingers brushed mine, drawing those sparks again. He craved it, I knew. So did I. And neither one of us could afford that.

He'd left something behind in my hand, a folded piece of paper with meticulously crisp corners. I started to unfold it, but he stopped me. "It's an address," he said. "If you need me, that's where you'll find me. Just don't-"

"Tell anybody?" I finished, and gave him a faint smile. "You know better."

"Yeah."

He leaned forward and folded his arms around me, pulled