Killshadow Road. Пола Грейвс
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things I found at the compounding pharmacy in town.”
“So you didn’t make it to see the witch woman.”
“Nope. Didn’t think the risk was worth it.” He sat in the armchair across from her and emptied the bag onto the footlocker between them. “This is something called Dragon’s Blood. Tree sap of some sort. Said to have strong antibiotic, antiviral and antifungal properties. Plus, anti-inflammatory and analgesic.”
“Overachiever,” she muttered, eyeing the dark red liquid in the small bottle with skepticism. “Does it do windows, too?”
Darcy’s lips quirked as he pushed another small bottle toward her. “Eucalyptus oil. Also supposed to be antibiotic, if the articles on the internet are anything to go by.”
“Because everything you read on the internet is true.”
He slanted another amused look at her. “This is good old fashioned aloe vera gel. I figure it can’t hurt.”
“And that?” she asked, pointing at the bottle that sat behind the rest.
“Betadine. If hospitals use it, it must be effective, yes?”
“Works for me.” She leaned forward to pick up the bottle of Betadine and gasped at the burning ache in her side. “Ow.”
Darcy was up from the chair and by her side in a second. “Sit back. You’re doing too much.”
To her horror, hot tears stung her eyes. She blinked them back. “I’m fine.”
“You’re far from fine. You’re injured and probably haven’t had a good night’s sleep in days. Have you?”
“What I’d really like is a shower,” she blurted before she could think better of it.
“That can be arranged.” Darcy’s dark eyes met hers.
Despite the pain in her side, despite the weakness in her limbs, she felt a flood of pure sexual heat flow between them, and her breath stilled in her lungs. The intensity of his regard overwhelmed her, but she couldn’t drag her gaze away.
He broke the connection first, moving away and turning his attention to the bottles sitting on the coffee table. “A bath might be the better option.”
He was right about that. Her legs would never hold her upright long enough to finish a shower. “That would be lovely.”
“Stay right here.” As he passed her on the way to the bathroom, he brushed the back of his hand briefly against her cheek. As much as she might have wanted to believe it was a simple show of affection, she had a feeling he’d been surreptitiously checking her for fever.
“Am I burning up?” she called after him.
“Didn’t even singe my fingers,” he called back, his tone light. But she heard worry lurking just beneath the surface.
She’d been running around in the woods for six hours, forced to ignore her pain and weakness. The wounds had remained untreated, open to any sort of airborne pathogens that might have found their way to the bloody holes in her side.
She’d spent a lot of time zigzagging to throw off her pursuers, and for what? They’d still spotted her less than a mile from Nick Darcy’s cabin. She’d still had to run for her life.
Darcy came back a few minutes later. “Your bath is ready,” he intoned in his plummiest accent.
He watched with hawk-like intensity as she gingerly inched her way toward him, though he kept his hands to himself, letting her pull her own weight, as if he sensed that she needed to make that small, unconvincing show of strength.
In the warm, cozy bathroom, the fragrant air smelled like crisp green apples. She turned in the doorway to look at Darcy. “Green apple is Susie’s favorite.”
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Explains why Bragg always smells so nice.”
Steam rose from the foamy bathwater. “I think I can take it from here.”
“Call out if you need me.” With a long, narrow-eyed gaze that sent a shiver skittering down her back, Darcy backed out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
She stripped off the borrowed T-shirt and, gritting her teeth, tugged the bandages away from her bullet wounds. Using the small oval mirror over the pedestal sink, she took a look at the injury. There was distinct redness and inflammation around the entry and exit wounds, but she didn’t see signs that infection had spread. That was good, wasn’t it?
After she finished undressing, she headed over to the tub. She had to grip the sides of the tub to keep from falling over as she stepped into the bubble bath. The water was deliciously hot against her skin, and for a second, she thought the bath might turn out to be more enjoyable than she expected.
Then the water hit her wounds, and she couldn’t hold back a sharp yelp.
A couple of seconds later, the bathroom door slammed open and Darcy filled the doorway, his dark eyes alert.
She ducked down until the foamy water covered her naked breasts, shooting him a baleful look.
The concerned expression faded into a ridiculous smirk. “Hot water hit the wounds?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
“Are you all right?”
She nodded.
“I can stay in here. In case you need help.” His lips curved a little more, and for a second, she was tempted to splash water on him. Then it occurred to her what he was doing. He was trying to distract her from the pain still slicing through her ravaged side.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Really, I am. Not pretending to be stronger than I am.”
“Are you certain you want me to leave?”
“Positive,” she answered, mocking his accent.
His quirked lips made it all the way to a smile. “I’m told I’m excellent at scrubbing backs.”
“I’m sure you are. But I think I can reach my own back.” She almost believed she could, although she wasn’t in a hurry to test the theory.
“You know, maybe we should consider conserving water, since we’re borrowing the place from someone else—” He reached for the top button of his shirt.
“Out, Darcy.”
He dropped his hands and grinned. “Call if you change your mind.”
“I won’t,” she vowed as he headed out of the bathroom again.
At least, she hoped she wouldn’t. The mental image of Nick Darcy’s big, soapy hands moving over her body was already making her feel weak.
And weak was the last thing she needed to be around him.
* * *
ABOUT TWO MINUTES before Darcy was ready to barge back into the bathroom to see what was taking so long, McKenna emerged wrapped in a fluffy terry-cloth robe. “I found this in the bathroom. Must belong to Susie.”
“Right.”
“Kind of hoping she has more clothes around here. She’s a little taller than I am, but we wear close to the same size.” She tugged the garment more tightly around her. He saw a spot of blood beginning to appear and spread on the side of the robe.
He rose quickly to reach her. “You’re bleeding again.”
She looked down at the bloodstain. “Oh. I don’t think it’s a lot.” But as she looked back up at him, she began to sway a little, her eyes drifting unfocused.
He scooped her up and carried her back to the bedroom, depositing her on the bed. Her hands dropped away from the lapels of the robe as her eyes struggled to focus, and the robe gaped open, revealing