Page 14 of Harbor (The Wanderers 3)

She gritted her teeth and watched as he removed the tight gauze, unwrapping it around her calf. When he was finished, he lifted a second wet dressing covering the wound.

Maya craned her neck to see better and winced when she finally got a full view of the injury. The doctor hadn’t been kidding about the number of stitches. The cut ran all the way up the back of her leg from her heel to her knee. It was red and angry.

She cringed as Dario lifted her leg to examine it better. “I know it looks bad to you, but trust me, it looks so much better than it did even two days ago. It’s healing. There’s still infection, but the antibiotics are working.”

She knew by looking she would have died without their help. She would’ve died without antibiotics. “Thank you. For saving me,” she whispered.

Dario put a fresh bandage over the wound and wrapped it back up, looser this time. “You’re welcome. It’s what I do.”

When Advic stroked her upper arm, she realized she’d grabbed his hand and was squeezing it tightly. She glanced at him, flushing as she released him to cross her hands together over her stomach.

Advic continued to soothe her with a light touch to her biceps, making goosebumps rise on her arm. He didn’t say anything.

It unnerved her how much she enjoyed his touch. There wasn’t a soul alive she permitted to touch her like that. Not even Stuart. He was the only man she could even tolerate hugging briefly. He certainly didn’t dare stroke her skin or hold her hand.

Dario lifted her foot again when he was done, turning it gently from side to side. “You need to start moving some. Gently at first. Advic can help you. Some ankle rolling, bending at the knee. Just to keep your muscles from tightening.”

She swallowed. Normally she was the sort of person who could endure a lot of pain, but damn, this fucking hurt. Every movement sent pain up her leg. It was enough to make her feel nauseous.

“Keanu is making you some scrambled eggs and toast. Take it easy at first. Make sure it stays down before you start eating more.” He patted her other shin, holding her gaze for several seconds before inhaling deeply, nodding, and leaving the room.

“Do you want something for the pain?” Advic asked, drawing her attention back to him. His hand was on her shoulder now.

“No.” She shook her head.

“Figured you’d say that. Based on the muscle tone you had when you arrived, I’m betting you’re pretty fierce. A scout I’d bet.”

She followed him with her gaze as he moved to the foot of the bed and lifted her leg gently. He was too fucking astute.

“I know every movement hurts, but please tell me if it’s unbearable.” He carefully worked her ankle up and down, glancing at her face every few seconds.

She held her breath. It fucking hurt a lot, but she would never admit that.

When he finished torturing her ankle, he moved to torturing the bend at her knee. She winced as he pushed her leg slowly, holding her breath again. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. There was no way in hell she was going to be able to walk out of here on her own anytime soon.

She was sweating when he finally eased her leg back onto the elevated pile of pillows. She panted as she dropped her head back to try to catch her breath. She lifted her arm to drape it over her eyes, hating the vulnerability.

“You’re not used to letting anyone help you, are you?” Advic asked, his voice teasing.

She didn’t answer. He knew she wasn’t.

She sensed him moving back toward her head, but she was shocked when he lifted her braid. “Would you like me to wash your hair for you? I bet it would feel good. I could bring a bowl of warm water up behind you and shampoo it.”

She lifted her arm slowly and met his gaze, staring at him. Her gut reaction was to tell him to go to hell, but the thought of this man massaging her scalp was oddly appealing. And the thought of having clean hair even more so.

“Or…” he continued, “I could get you a sharp knife and you could stab me with it until I bleed out.” His expression was difficult to read. He was partly serious, in the sense that he recognized she was skeptical about letting him touch her so intimately. But one side of his mouth was lifted in a playful grin.

He started to turn away, but she reached out and grabbed his forearm. “I’m sorry. That would be nice. If you washed my hair I mean. I’m not…” she swallowed, having no idea how to explain herself better.

He reached for her hand and threaded his fingers with hers. The gesture was far more intimate than any other up to this point. He brought her hand to his cheek and rubbed it against his cleanly shaved face.

His gaze was intense. “Look, there’s no reason to lie and try to convince you I’m not attracted to you. You’re like an angel. And no, I don’t ordinarily fall for my patients. I never do. You’re the first. From the moment you arrived, I’ve been drawn to you. I can’t explain it because you weren’t even conscious. But I’ve rarely left your side.”

She pursed her lips. It was obvious he wasn’t done speaking, and she had no idea how to respond.

He drew in a breath. “I can tell you’re independent and skittish. A warrior.” He grinned. “You’ve said you don’t have a man or, uh, perhaps more than one man, so I assume that’s true. I also assume you don’t have amnesia.” He smirked. “I mean, even though you’ve shared almost nothing with us, I’m guessing you know exactly where you came from and who your people are.”

She nodded.

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