Page 50 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary
His definition of ‘good’ involved sprawling out like a predator at rest, with his arms folded behind his head. Her mouth went dry at the long, lean lines of his body and the strip of tanned skin that peeked out where his t-shirt rode up slightly above his waistband.
Dragging her eyes away, she dropped into the desk chair and activated her datapad. "I'm supposed to monitor your vitals. Jex linked them to my pad."
"Lucky pad," he murmured.
Her cheeks heated. She focused on the scrolling numbers, trying to look competent. His heart rate seemed elevated but steady. His body temperature was still running hotter than normal, but it was within parameters.
"We should distract ourselves," she said, wincing at her own phrasing. "I mean… I could find something for us to watch? A film maybe?"
Davis shifted on the bed, drawing her attention back to him. He watched her with an intensity that made her skin prickle with awareness.
"Sure," he said, a wicked look in his eyes. "Find us something good."
She turned back to the datapad, scrolling through the ship's entertainment database without really seeing it. She felt him watching her, the touch of his gaze like a soft caress sliding along her spine.
"Any preferences?" she asked, proud she didn’t squeak.
“I don’t know. Something with a… happy ending."
She bit her lip, refusing to rise to the bait.
"Action? Comedy? Drama?"
"Surprise me."
Selecting something at random, some historical drama that had gotten decent reviews, she set it to display on the small wall screen. The opening credits began to scroll, the volume low enough to be background noise.
For a few minutes, they both pretended to watch. She kept her eyes fixed on the screen, but she was conscious of every shift of his body on the bed behind her, every soft breath.
A soft groan broke the silence, and she snapped her head around. He had a hand pressed to his chest, his face contorted in pain.
"Davis?" She was on her feet in a heartbeat, datapad forgotten. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he said through gritted teeth. "Just... twinges."
The monitors weren't showing any alarming changes. She frowned. "Should I call Jex?"
"No!" His response came quickly. Too quickly. "No, it's fine. Probably just... muscle spasms. After effects."
She took a step forward, eyes narrowed. "You're sure?"
"Maybe..." he winced again, the performance convincing. But there it was, the slight quirk to his lips as he looked up at her. "Maybe you could check? Just... make sure everything looks normal?"
"I'm not a medical professional," she reminded him as she moved closer.
"I trust you." The sincerity in his eyes was convincing.
She perched on the edge of the bed. "Where does it hurt?"
"Here." He guided her hand to his chest, placing her palm flat against his sternum.
His heart beat beneath her fingers, strong and steady.
"Feels normal to me," she said, trying to pull her hand away.
His fingers tightened around her wrist, keeping her palm pressed against him. "Are you sure?" His voice dropped to a low rumble. "Maybe check more thoroughly?"
She met his gaze directly. "Davis Tell, are you faking chest pains to get me to touch you?"
