Page 22 of The Healer and the Wolf: Part One

Unbidden, my mind filled with images of those same calloused digits sliding down my spine, sinking into the soft skin on my hips. His grip would be so firm, maybe even leaving lovely little bruises instead of my kitchen counters taking that responsibility every time I ran into them. He could hold me in place just right while?—

Whoa. Slow down there, girlie.

It took a great force of will not to blush vermillion, and I forced my thoughts in a different direction. It wasn’t very kind for me to lust after the man like he was a piece of meat when he was injured and trying to recover.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly, not wanting to startle him. He was concentrating so intensely.

When he looked up, his eyes were wide with wonder, and he had such a broad, dopey grin on his face that tugged at my heartstrings. “I remembered how to read,” he said, his voice clogged with emotion. I didn’t blame him one bit. If someone had suddenly made me illiterate, I’d be pissed about it and also booking it to the nearest library once I could read again. “You have an amazing collection.”

Collection? Was he really calling my ramshackle assortment of books a collection? All my books were secondhand or gifts.

Blushing, I shrugged. “It’s all right,” I murmured, wondering why my cheeks were burning so hard. “Oh, I stopped at the thrift shop across from my work on my lunch break. I think I found some stuff that’ll fit you. Nothing fashionable, of course, but I doubt you’ll be walking the runway anytime soon.”

He gave me another odd look, like he was trying to puzzle together what I meant, and I reminded myself he probably didn’t understand pop-culture references. I mean, the man had only just remembered that he could read. Supermodels and high fashion weren’t exactly on his docket.

“Thank you,” he said after a beat, once again sounding so serious and genuine that it made me blush. Carefully extricating himself from the cat, he stood and started pulling the rotted rags from his muscled frame.

“Whoa, heythere!” I cried, whirling around and slapping my hands over my eyes.

Right. I didn’t know how I kept forgetting that the guy had literally been a wild animal for who knew how long. Naturally, things like modesty and nudity didn’t even register for him. Whew, we were going to need to sit down and discuss social norms if I didn’t want to burst out of my own skin with embarrassment.

And maybe a little bit of interest.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, sounding so sheepish that I wanted to turn around and comfort him. But I also didn’t want to take advantage of his naïveté. It would be easy to, but the thought made my stomach churn violently.

“Hey, before you put on the clean clothes, how about you take a shower?”

There was, yet again, no answer for an extended time. With anyone else, I would think they were offended. But with Leo, I was willing to guess that he had no idea what I was talking about.

“Do you remember what a shower is?”

“I… no.”

Drat. He’d gone from sounding happy and full of wonder to bewildered again. Guilt roiled in my belly for ruining his mood.

“It’s where you wash yourself. With water that can be heated or cold.” I kept my voice as gentle as I could. “Would you like me to show you to my upstairs bathroom?”

“Uh, yes. I would like that.”

“Are you decent?”

“Decent?”

I took a deep breath, willing myself to be patient. I wasn’t upset with him, but I was getting flustered with myself and all my missteps. “I mean, are you still clothed?”

“As much as I was before.”

“Good.”

I turned around slowly, just in case Leo was a bit misinformed by exactly how dressed he was. Both relief and the tiniest sliver of disappointment slithered through me when I saw he was as covered as he’d been since his transformation. Thank goodness for small mercies. Although, there wasn’t a lot about the man that was actually small.

“Here,” I said, offering my hand and pushing my thoughts decidedly out of that direction. “Let me show you. It’ll be good for you, I swear.”

Leo took a long look at my palm, then my face, before slowly putting his hand in mine. His skin was rough and surprisingly hot. Did shifters run at a different temperature than humans? Perhaps. I’d certainly learned of stranger things in the past twenty-four hours.

Together, we went upstairs, and I pulled him into my small bathroom. “So, this here is the tub and the shower. You can take a bath in this if you want by stopping the plug down there.” I pointed while I explained, trying my best to go slowly. “But I recommend showering really thoroughly before you do, otherwise you’re kind of just soaking in filth.

“You control the shower with these knobs here, that can affect the temperature. This one is hot. This one is cold. If you use the toilet and flush, that could make it…”

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