Page 48 of Over the Edge

This, too, was part of being on a SEAL team. They fought together, but they also licked their wounds together. They took care of one another when a teammate was down.

He set her on her feet and led her to the edge of her bed. “Sit,” he murmured.

She watched as he lit the old-fashioned hurricane lamp on the chest of drawers, throwing a soft golden glow through the space. Thank goodness he hadn’t turned on the electric overhead light. The brightness would have been too much, too revealing.

He poured water from the pitcher sitting on the chest of drawers into the large bowl beside it and carried it to her. Setting the bowl beside her on the nightstand, he took her hands and put them in the water to soak.

When the blood under her nails had mostly dissolved, he dipped his hands in the basin, and using a bar of soap, washed her hands. His fingers slid over the backs of her hands and between her fingers, the sudsy slipperiness sensual. He took each of her hands between both of his and massaged them between his palms, lather foamy between them. He took his time and did the job thoroughly. She was shocked at the gentleness of his touch.

“Hold your hands over the basin,” he murmured, carrying the pitcher to her.

He rinsed the soap off her hands and then dried them for her. It was such a simple thing, washing her hands. But it was also shockingly intimate. He glanced up at her while he pressed the towel around her hands, and their gazes locked.

They’d faced death together and come out the other side alive. His chin dipped slightly in silent acknowledgement, as if he, too, felt the forging of an unbreakable bond between them.

How was it that they could be two such different people and yet share something so deep and so personal that she almost felt like a part of him, while he felt like a part of her? Was this the bond of brotherhood SEALs talked about? Although she’d never had a brother, it felt like much more than that to her.

“Let’s get you out of that robe,” he suggested.

She shuddered as he lifted it, the hem stiff with dried blood, and peeled it over her head. He dropped it in a pile, saying quietly, “I’ll throw that out later.”

“But I need it—“ she started.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he said firmly.

She nodded, relieved.

“You’re bloody too,” she mumbled. Reaching out, she started unbuttoning his shirt, and miracle of miracles, he let her. The blood-stained cotton smelled sharply metallic as she pushed it off his shoulders.

“You’re cut,” she announced, looking at where his shoulder had been sliced.

“It’s hardly a scratch. I’ve gotten worse in training.”

She shot him a withering look. “You have no idea where that guy’s knife has been. Let me clean the cut.”

She fetched alcohol and cotton balls from the bathroom and pointed at the edge of the bed. It was her turn to order, “Sit.”

He huffed, but did obey.

“This will sting,” she warned.

He retorted dryly, “In case you hadn’t heard, I’m a SEAL. I can take a little pain.”

“And I quote, ‘Turn off pain and fear while in combat, but not afterward. It’s important to check in with your body. Make sure you have no injuries you didn’t notice in the heat of battle’. End quote, Mr. Instructor who said that.”

He rolled his eyes but made no further complaint as she wiped the crusted blood away from his cut. It was, indeed, shallow and already scabbing over. Still, she washed it with soap, swabbed it with alcohol, and smeared antibiotic cream on it. She put several butterfly bandages over its length and stepped back. “There. All better.”

“Overkill, much?” he muttered as he looked at her handiwork.

“Get over it. I worry about you.”

His gaze snapped up to hers. There it was again. That staggering intimacy that had suddenly exploded between them. “I worry about you, too.”

“Good. Then we’re even,” she replied lightly. “Any other wounds I should know about? Stand up. Let me check your back.”

He sighed as she moved behind him, running her hands lightly over his white cotton tank shirt.

The soft fabric hugged his crazy fit physique, highlighting every bulge and contour of his sharply cut deltoids, trapeziuses, lats, and ridged spinal muscles.

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