“They’re not massively strong, but they’ll take the edge off.”
She expected him to refuse the medication, but he surprised her by taking it.
“I’ll clean out your wounds and then bandage your wrist.”
“I can—” he started.
“I know you can,” she snapped. “You can do everything. You’re freaking Superman. Happy now? It doesn’t mean you have to do everything. Now how about you shut up for five minutes and let me clean out your wounds? I promise never to tell anyone ever that Alastair Stewart had help.”
He frowned. “If you want to do it that much, on you go. But how about you answer my question while you’re at it. Who is this Rainne you had to run away to find?”
She ripped the packaging open on the antiseptic wipes and dabbed at his face. There was stubble on his jaw that scraped at her fingertips. His fists clenched on his thighs.
“Well?” he demanded. Big, grumpy bear.
She leaned close to him, aching at the sight of the gashes in his skin. She resisted the urge to press kisses to each one. He wouldn’t appreciate them anyway. His breath slid over her bare shoulder, making her hyperaware of how close they were to each other. She cleared her throat and answered the question.
“I’m stronger. More capable. I have a business studies qualification now and work for an insurance company. I’m not the same ignorant girl who didn’t know how to run a lingerie shop. If I was in charge of that shop now, it would be successful. I have my own flat, pay my own way. I make up my own mind about things. I don’t let people around me sway me into agreeing with what they think. I’m more confident.”
She spotted a gash at the base of his hair on the back of his neck and twisted over his shoulder to get to it. Her breast flattened against him and her hand stilled for a second. Focus. Concentrate. This is medical help. That’s all. “I’m someone who can help now, instead of being someone who needs to be taken care of.”
“Silly girl.” Alastair’s voice was a husky rumble. “You were always those things. You didn’t find anything that wasn’t already there.”
Slowly, she leaned back to look at him. They were close enough to breathe each other’s air. Alastair’s eyes were dark. His expression brooding. Rainne blinked a couple of times before she dabbed at a cut on his forehead, at his hairline.
You didn’t find anything that wasn’t already there.
He couldn’t mean it. Could he? Was that how he’d seen her? Her breast bumped his cheek as she reached for another antiseptic wipe. She stilled for a heartbeat before she pretended it hadn’t happened. She lifted the new wipe to his face as strong hands curled around her hips.
Rainne froze with her hand poised in mid-air. She felt Alastair’s thumbs gently caress the skin beneath the hem of her vest. Her heart beat so loudly she was sure he could hear it, but she didn’t move. Afraid the moment would be shattered. Afraid he would stop touching her.
“You still smell so bloody good,” he mumbled, as though talking to himself.
Rainne swallowed hard.
“Three years and I still remember exactly how you smell. It drives me insane. It isn’t normal to have withdrawal symptoms from a scent.”
He rubbed his nose against the crook of her neck. She shuddered.
“There.” His lips moved against her skin. “It’s stronger here. Like meadow flowers and rainy days.”
He pulled her hips towards him. Rainne dropped the antiseptic wipe but didn’t know where to put her hands. She was terrified he would stop. That he would retreat.
She looked down at him. “Alastair?” she whispered.
Dark eyes, tormented and burning, looked up at her.
“Alastai—”
A strong hand cupped the back of her head and pulled her down to him. At the speed of light, his lips were on hers. Rainne moaned as she melted into him. Giving him everything, anything he wanted. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, his skin hot to her touch. His kiss was part anger, part need. It overwhelmed her with its intensity. This wasn’t the twenty-year-old boy she’d left behind. This was Alastair the man, and she revelled in him.
The firm pressure of his lips against hers. The scrape of his teeth over swollen skin. The wet urgency of his tongue as he feasted on her. She swayed in his arms, weak and desperate. Drowning in all that was Alastair. His delicious scent. The firmness of his muscles as they tensed to hold her in place. The rasp of his breath against her lips. He dominated. He controlled and he took.
Then suddenly he was gone. His hands dropped from her body. She blinked at him, slowly coming out of the haze of need he’d induced. His dark eyes were cold. His brow furrowed.
“That was a mistake.”
Rainne’s first instinct was to retreat. To hide. To agree and pretend he hadn’t kissed her until she was delirious. She’d spent a lifetime smoothing over tense situations, making things easier for everyone around her. Not this time. Not with this man.