Page 66 of The Devil's Deal

I grimace as I unwrap the shirt and find a long fleshy wound. The blood seems to have stopped, for the most part.

“I need to clean this and re-wrap it.” I twist my lips with worry. “Where do you keep your ‘in case I get shot’ stuff?”

“Why the hell do you care enough to help me?”

“Maybe because I have a heart and you don’t. Now, where is it?”

He points to the left, at one of the doors. “Bathroom. Left bottom cabinet, under the sink.”

I run in, finding myself in a bathroom that’s a bigger version of the one he designated for me.

I open the cabinet, finding everything I need. Grabbing the saline, a roll of gauze, a pad, and cotton balls, I’m ready to go back out, but when I look up, he’s standing over the doorframe.

My heart stops as our gazes fall into one another’s. My stomach flips again, but this time it isn’t fear.

“Um, I—”

“I’ll sit here.” His mouth curves up at the corner. “Don’t want you dirtying my sheets.”

My breath falters, my body going instantly hot with images of us tangled in his bed.

He moves past me, lowering himself on the toilet lid.

“Let’s get this over with,” he says, extending his arm for me.

Making my way to him, I open the bottle of saline and pour a little right over his wound.

“Shit,” he winces. “You trying to kill me or something?”

“That’s for calling me princess.” I grin, pouring some more into his marred flesh.

He slants his head sideways with a taunting glare behind his gaze. “You’d better stop hurting me.”

He grabs my wrist, and my other hand with the saline in it, rattles.

“Why do I get the feeling you like it,” I taunt with an arch of my brow and a tip of my lips.

He clenches his jaw, his eyes boring into mine, confirming what I had already known. Relieving the grip from my hand, he lets me finish. And I don’t push my limits anymore. I clean him with care, then wrap his arm.

“Get to bed,” I demand.

“You’re telling me what to do now?”

“Someone has to.”

He laughs. “You’re a crazy woman. Not that I’m surprised.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I close the saline and put all the supplies away.

He treads over to his bed, with me close behind, and lowers himself into it, the uninjured arm tucked under the back of his head.

He peers up at me, his gaze soft. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

I ignore the gratefulness. “Did anyone else get hurt tonight?”

“None of your people got hurt. Everyone’s safe.”

I close my eyes and sigh with relief. “Sleep well, Brian. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

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