Her mind flashed back to the bandanna tied around his calf on the return flight. In the darkened cockpit she'd seen only the bandanna and what she'd thought were mud stains. Guilt packed a heavy punch. "Why didn't you say something?"
"No need." Pick. Drop. Pick. Drop. "It didn't affect my ability to do my job. Plenty of time for Band-Aids later."
She watched with a mixture of awe and honor as he irrigated a deeper cut with a squirt bottle, pinched it closed and sealed it with a butterfly bandage. "Shouldn't you be at the doctor's office?"
He paused digging long enough to quirk a brow. "I didn't get my degree over the Internet, hon."
"Don't be a smartass, Gray. Shouldn't you have a tetanus shot or something?"
"Soldiers get tetanus shots ten times the strength of a regular dose. Stands to reason, right?" He worked as he spoke, as if the words gave him focus. "Could be hours, even days, before treatment is available in a survival situation. Think what could happen from a simple bramble scratch, followed by wading through some unsanitary sludge pit."
She shuddered.
"We're pumped full of more immunizations than you can imagine." He manipulated the tweezers around the last piece, a heavily embedded square of metal. His words slid through gritted teeth. "Son of a—"
Ping.
Gray sighed, sagging back in his chair, eyes closed.
Lori stared at those angry, red patches on his leg and thought of their dash across the Sentavian tarmac. "You were hurt running after me, weren't you?"
His lack of response was answer enough.
He'd been injured and hadn't said a word while she let him take care of her. Guilt prickled again like a mental shrapnel blast. "Could I at least finish up for you? I'm not a doctor, but I think I can handle antiseptic cream and a bandage."
His grin slid into place, a grin that stretched his too-pale face. "Sure. Who am I to turn down a little TLC?"
Lori walked to the sink and pumped antibacterial soap into her hands. Once she'd washed and dried them, along with steadying her stomach, she crossed to Gray.
He winked. "Be gentle with me."
His eyes touched on her mouth, her neck, her braless chest.
The small kitchen shrank as she realized they were inches apart, Gray in his underwear, Lori without underwear. "Can you be serious for once?"
"Nope."
The chalky pallor beneath his tanned face kept her from arguing. Of course Gray always covered his real feelings with a laugh, and right now he had to be hurting like hell.
She squeezed the ointment in long streams over his leg. Gently she skimmed her fingers over the puckered cuts. His head fell to rest against the back of his chair.
Lori smoothed the cream, covering the area he'd shaved. While she'd been indulging in silly daydreams about him in the shower, he'd been shaving his leg around shrapnel wounds. "I'm so sorry for making you run after me."
"You saved a kid. This doesn't matter."
Her fingers detoured past the shaved area to the bruise on his shinbone where she'd kicked him. His leg muscles flexed. Crisp hair rasped under the tender pads of her fingers, kindling a fire within her hot enough to waft steam off her wet hair.
Lori circled the mottled bruise. Had she really kicked him that hard the night before? "I'm especially sorry for this."
"It's nothing."
She covered the bruise with her palm as if to sear it well. "What you did for me last night wasn't noth—"
"Lori." He jerked his leg away. "Stop. It was nothing."
"Okay. Fine." His words stung like antiseptic on her already-raw emotions.
She turned her attention to his leg. His bare leg.