Page 16 of Primal Bonds

He grunted in response.

Back downstairs, she shut off all the lights except the one in the hall and curled up again on the easy chair.

She had fallen into a light doze when something made her open her eyes. Jace was staring at her, his irises glowing that odd feral-green again. Her skin prickled. She glanced around the room for a weapon.

Then his breath sighed out and she reminded herself he couldn’t hurt anyone right now.

She rose to her feet. “You okay? Would you like some water?”

“Yeah.” He swiped his tongue over his lips. “I’m so damn thirsty. And I need to take a piss.”

“Water first.” She hurried into the kitchen and returned with a large glass, which he drained in a couple of gulps and then handed back to her.

“Can you walk?” She glanced at him doubtfully as she set the glass on the coffee table. “I can get Kyler. He’s upstairs.”

He eased his legs over the side of the couch. “I can do it.” He set his feet on the floor and used the coffee table to push himself to standing.

He only took a couple of steps before he winced and grasped his belly. “I could use some help here,” he said ruefully.

She was already moving the coffee table out of the way. “Put your arm on my shoulders,” she said as she slid an arm around his waist.

Together, they shuffled into the hall and turned right toward the bathroom. Fortunately, it was only a few steps further. Evie flipped on the light and helped him inside.

Jace gripped the sink and dragged in a breath, head down. He was flushed, his temples beaded with sweat.

She bit her lower lip. “Will you—I mean, do you need any help?”

“I’m okay,” he muttered.

“Okay, good.” She backed toward the door. “I’ll be in the hall if you need me.”

“I won’t. But thanks.”

She shut the door and walked a few feet down the hall to wait. The toilet flushed and then she heard water running, followed by a long silence.

She rapped on the bathroom door. “Everything okay in there?”

“Yeah.” The door opened and he limped out. “Just moving…slow.”

Evie’s eyes widened. He’d washed his face and taken his shirt off. Her gaze went to a hard chest covered by wiry black hair, and then she jerked it back to his face.

The look he gave her made her cheeks heat. The man might be injured, but that considering expression told her he was recovering fast. They stared at each other. A heartbeat passed, then another.

He spoke first, indicating the shirt balled in his hand. “It was bloody. Where do you want it?”

She swallowed. “Just drop it next to the sink and I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.” He tossed it into the bathroom.

She hesitated and then reminded herself she was a nurse. Well, almost, anyway.

“I’ll help you back to the couch,” she said in her most professional voice and slid an arm around his back.

He shook his head. “You don’t look strong enough to hold up a kitten,” he said, but let her take some of his weight.

The man was all muscle. Beneath her hand, his waist was taut, the skin hot from his fever. She tried not to notice how good he smelled—warm, sweaty male.

Down, girl.

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