Page 45 of Stand Fast

Fortunately for her, she had the honest excuse of needing to get her files done before she could go to bed. Prepared to kiss him and then say goodnight so she could get to work, she pushed up her sleeves as she turned to face him and hid a wince as a bit of her sweater pulled away from the scrape where it had stuck to on her elbow. She was sore all over.

Missing nothing, Zaid reached one hand out to gently capture her wrist, his gaze flicking up to hers before he pushed the sleeve up past her elbow and turned her arm slightly to examine it. “Did this happen when I tackled you earlier?” he asked softly, his touch and gentle tone sending a flush of warmth across her skin.

“I’m lucky it’s not far worse than a few scrapes,” she said.

He frowned at it. “It’s weeping. You should have covered it with a bandage. Did you clean it out at least?”

“No, I didn’t have time.” She’d been too busy trying to track down Barakat and get answers about the assassination today. So far the team didn’t think she’d been one of the targets, but they were no closer to discovering The Jackal’s identity.

“You got a first aid kit in here?”

“That’s not necessary, I’ll just wash it in the shower after I—”

His eyes flashed up to hers, and the words died in her throat. He was so close, his strong hands cradling her arm so gently. It was as if he couldn’t stand the thought of her suffering even a scraped elbow. “Have you got one here?”

Got one what? Oh, a first aid kit. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll clean and dress it for you. Easier for me to reach it than you.”

She didn’t need to be babied, even if the idea of being taken care of by him was way more appealing than she wanted it to be. “Zaid…”

He rubbed his thumb along her inner forearm. Just that tiny, simple touch had goose bumps flashing over her skin and her nipples tightening. He had the ability to undo her with a single touch, and it was both thrilling and terrifying.

“I hate seeing you bleeding, even this tiny little bit.” He dropped his gaze to where his thumb stroked her. “I don’t like how close those bullets came to you today.”

“Well I didn’t like how close they came to you, either.”

His eyes warmed as he half-smiled. “I’m going to take you worrying about me as a positive sign that I’m starting to work past your defenses.”

She wasn’t even sure if she had any defenses left against him at this point.

With her heart threatening to turn into a pile of mush in the middle of her chest, she reached to the side and pulled the kit out of her top desk drawer. “Here.”

He opened the kit, eased one jean-clad hip onto the edge of her desk and gently took hold of her arm to clean the scrapes. “Anywhere else?”

Her cuts and scrapes were nothing, but she knew he wouldn’t believe her if she said no. She let out a sigh and gave in. “My other elbow, my right knee and my right side.”

With a gentleness so at odds with a man of his size and skill set, he carefully cleaned her scraped elbows, wiping away the dried blood and dirt before applying a thin layer of antibiotic cream and a bandage over each.

“This feels really weird,” she murmured as he put on the last bandage. It wasn’t hard to see why Zaid was FAST Bravo’s medic. All the team members had combat medicine training, but not as in depth as Zaid. He truly cared about people, wanted to help them, and it showed. His teammates clearly adored him. She was starting to adore him too.

“What, me putting bandages on you?” He didn’t look up from his work. “Your dad’s a doctor. He must have done this for you a lot when you were a kid.”

“Yes, but that was different.”

“Different how?”

“It just is.” The way Zaid tended to her now made her heart flutter and her throat tighten. She wasn’t going to admit that aloud, though.

He finished with her other elbow and reached for the hem of her shirt before meeting her eyes. “May I?”

She raised it for him, baring a few inches of skin above the waistband of her pants. The scrape across her ribs was bigger. Not as deep, but the larger surface area affected made it painful, and her sweater had been sticking to it too.

“Ouch, that’s some pretty good road rash I gave you,” he murmured, reaching for more antiseptic wipes.

“I’d rather have some road rash than a bullet hole any day of the week.”

He smirked and began carefully wiping at her scraped flesh. “So, since we’re here alone,” he began in a tone that told her she probably wasn’t going to like his next sentence. “Can I ask you something?”

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