Chapter 2 #2
“You know, like if you were going to try and shoot someone or hurt somebody." She mimicked pointing a weapon, making an odd bang-bang noise afterward. He didn't understand the sound, but the gesture was obvious enough. Of course he knew how to use his weapon.
"Yes, I am dangerous." When she recoiled, he realized she had misinterpreted, and he reached out and put his hand on her arm. Another forbidden act, but one he could not regret with the silky warmth of her skin beneath his hand.
"Not to you," he said. He pointed at her and shook his head. "Not dangerous."
Her features relaxed, and she smiled, putting her hand over his where it still rested on her arm.
"Well, that's a relief. Are you thirsty?
Do you want something to drink?" She took her hand away to mime the act of drinking, and it took all his self-control to refrain from demanding that she return her hand.
She was correct—he did need to drink and restore his strength.
He nodded, repeating what he thought was the correct word for agreement. "Yes."
"Excellent. I have brought you some broth.
" She started to hand him a cup, then changed her mind.
"I'd better help you sit up first." She slid her arm around his neck, mindful of his horns, then lifted his head.
Only the thin material of her gown separated her arm from his skin.
It would take only a second to allow his claws to emerge and rip away the offending fabric.
The uncivilized thought immediately horrified him but did nothing to prevent his fingertips from tingling in anticipation.
Anticipation of an act that will never happen, he told himself firmly.
The position also placed him close to the tempting curve of her breast, but he forced himself to ignore it and take a sip from the cup she held to his lips. Flavor exploded across his tongue, rich and full-bodied, and he drank eagerly.
He'd been on ship's rations for the entire trip, and even before that, Tandroki food was chosen mainly for nutritional value.
Rare and expensive items were chosen for social events when one wished to make an impression, but even on those occasions, it was value rather than taste which dictated the choice.
This simple, meat-flavored broth was far tastier than any of the expensive items he had been served.
He eagerly consumed the rest of the broth, and she gave him a pleased smile.
"It looks like you're going to recover more quickly than I thought." Small, blunt teeth closed down on her lower lip in an oddly appealing gesture. "But speaking of recovery, I should probably check your wound to make sure it's healing properly."
He didn't understand the words, but from the way she was pointing at his side, he thought she was indicating his injury.
Had she attended to him herself? Although she had undoubtedly used primitive technology, he found himself pleased by the fact.
He nodded, giving her permission, and she carefully drew the bed covering down, exposing his chest.
"I'm sorry I had to remove part of your uniform to get to your injury.
" Her voice sounded oddly breathless, and her eyes were fixed on his chest. Something else he found unexpectedly appealing—so appealing that his body started to respond to that appreciative look.
By the Horns, what was wrong with him? He was showing no more control than an untried youth.
"My injury," he said harshly, before he did something unbelievably reckless, and she jumped at the sound of his voice.
The flush on her cheeks deepened, spreading further down her neck and beneath the neckline of her gown.
Would it extend down far enough to cover her breasts?
His gaze dropped as though he could see through the cloth, but although the fabric still obscured his view, he could see the stiff peaks of her nipples tenting the cloth.
This time he did let his claws emerge enough to dig them into the palms of his hands before he did something more than look.
"I'm sorry," she said as she started to peel back the bandage covering his side. "I know I shouldn't be staring, and it's not as if I've never seen a man's chest before, although I've never seen one that looked like yours, but still, it's really rude, and I shouldn't be looking."
She was babbling, he realized, unexpectedly pleased that she, too, appeared to be affected by their encounter.
Her words stopped abruptly as she finished uncovering the wound.
"It's very red," she said, biting her lip again. "I hope it's not getting infected. I had to sew you up, but it's not something I've ever really done before."
He followed her worried glance down to his injury, and he could see why she was concerned.
A line of ragged stitches were keeping the gash closed, but it did not appear to be healing well.
As he suspected, their healing technology was extremely primitive.
He needed access to the medical unit on his ship, but failing that, even the small med kit on his belt could help.
He reached for it and discovered that it, too, had been removed.
"Where's my equipment?" he demanded, patting his stomach where his belt should have been, and a guilty expression immediately crossed that expressive face.
"I thought you were dangerous," she said, repeating the word he recognized from before.
"Not dangerous to you." He repeated the gesture she had used before, reaching out and gently patting her upper chest. He was careful to stay above her breasts, but it made no difference.
The feel of her soft skin beneath his fingers sent another surge of arousal through his body, and she jumped back with a startled sound.
"Yeah, all right, I get the message." She bit down on her bottom lip again and nodded. "All right, I'll get it for you and pray I'm not making a mistake."
Before he could say anything, she turned and disappeared through the doorway. He hoped she would return shortly with his equipment. As soon as he repaired himself, he needed to repair his translation implant and find out exactly what his little female had been saying.