Tate set his jaw stubbornly. "What of infection?"
Kyrian laughed. "Immortals don't die from infections. I am completely incapable of carrying any disease."
"You may not die from it, but it doesn't mean it won't hurt and it'll heal faster if treated." He gave Kyrian a look that said he would not be swayed. "I'm not going to take no for an answer. Let me treat that wound."
Kyrian opened his mouth to argue more, but if he knew anything about Tate, it was that the man was stubborn. Deciding not to waste his time, Kyrian obeyed before he remembered the coat and shirt wouldn't come completely off, thanks to the handcuffs.
He gave an exasperated sigh and left his clothes to hang against his forearm, then got back on the stretcher and leaned back on his elbows to wait for Tate.
As he watched Tate gather supplies, he heard Amanda's heart pounding and her breathing speed up. Felt her keen interest as she raked her gaze over his body. She wanted him, and her hot desire played havoc with him.
Kyrian shifted and wished his jeans were a couple of sizes bigger, since the black denim started biting fiercely into his erection.
Damn, he'd forgotten what a literal and figurative pain his body could be when an attractive woman was around.
And she was attractive. What with that charming, elfish face and those big, blue eyes...
He'd always been a fool for blue eyes.
Even without looking at her, he knew she was licking those plump, full lips, and his throat went dry as he imagined the taste of them. The feel of her breath on his face and her tongue against his as he kissed her.
Dear gods, and he had thought the Romans had tortured him! Their best interrogator had been an amateur compared to the physical and mental agony her nearness caused him now.
Even more disturbing than her looks was the fact that she had been an amazingly good sport about all of this. Most women would have been screaming in terror of him or crying.
Or both.
But she had met the entire ordeal with a courage and strength of heart he'd not seen in a long time.
He actually liked her, and that surprised him most of all.
Amanda jumped when Hunter met her gaze. Those deep, black eyes bored into hers and made her hot and breathless.
He lay on the stretcher with one leg bent up and the other hanging over the edge. The black denim hugged his long, powerful body.
And those muscled arms...
Lean and defined, he was all masculine beauty. His biceps were flexed as he leaned back on his elbows. She wanted to reach out and touch him so badly that she ached from it. No doubt, he would be rock-hard and satiny underneath her hand.
His shoulders were incredibly broad, with sculpted muscles that promised strength, speed, and agility. His pecs and arms were every bit as well-formed and tight.
And his stomach, oh heaven! Those flat abs had been made for nibbling.
Unbidden, her gaze followed the thin trail of coffee-colored hairs that started at his navel and vanished under the tight denim. By the size of the bulge in his jeans, she could tell he was amply endowed, and more than passingly interested in her.
The thought made her even hotter.
The deep, golden tan of his flesh defied what she knew him to be. How could a vampire have skin so tawny and inviting?
But even more tantalizing than the lean muscles that beckoned for caresses were the multitude of scars that crossed his flesh. He looked as if he had been clawed by a huge tiger, or beaten within an inch of his life with a whip.
Or both.
Hunter lay down as Tate approached, and she saw a small double-bow-and-arrow symbol branded into his left shoulder. She cringed at the thought of how much such a thing must have hurt, and she wondered if he had agreed to it, or if someone had put it there against his will.
"I take it from your scars that your vampire friends don't think much of you," she said.
"You think?" he retorted.