Page 83 of The Last Necromancer
"Fetching supplies." I moved close enough to him that I could smell the sharp tang of the carbolic soap he'd used. "Let me look at the wound."
"It's fine."
"It's not fine. There's fresh blood."
"The bleeding has almost stopped."
"Let me see. Is it deep?"
"It requires suturing."
Every time I came close, he either turned or moved away so I couldn't inspect the cut. After three attempts, I'd had enough. "Stop behaving like a child, and let me see."
He squared up to me and looked down that imperial nose of his. It was a pose that was probably meant to intimidate but failed miserably. It made him even more appealing, a wounded yet defiant warrior.
"A child?" he intoned.
"Yes."
"I am merely trying to protect your feminine sensibilities."
I burst out laughing. "I don't think I have any feminine sensibilities." At his flattening lips, I thought it best to be more serious. My laughter seemed to offend him. "Thank you for your consideration for my wellbeing, sir, but I'm not going to swoon when I touch you."
"That is not the point," he ground out.
I stamped my hands on my hips. "Do you honestly prefer Gus or Seth to do this instead of me?"
"I can do it."
"You can't."
He tried to prove me wrong by inspecting the wound. While he was able to reach it, he couldn't see it very well; he certainly wouldn't be able to suture it himself. "Seth can do it," he finally said, giving up.
"Seth is all thumbs, and Gus's fingernails are so dirty he's probably growing mushrooms under them. I'm gentle, methodical and can sew a stitch." Without waiting for his next protest, I dipped the cloth into the warm water.
To my surprise, he allowed me to clean the blood away without protest. The cut wasn't too deep, thank goodness, but it was important to keep it clean and avoid infection. I concentrated on my task, circling ever closer to the cut itself. I almost forgot that I was playing nurse to a very handsome man until that man sucked air between his teeth.
"Sorry," I said, glancing up at him.
He watched me from beneath lowered lashes. His face flushed when he realized that he was caught staring.
"Did I hurt you?"
He shook his head then stared straight ahead. He drew in a ragged breath. "Continue."
He stood as stiff as a statue while I finished cleaning the wound. Not even his chest rose and fell with his breathing. He only moved away when Seth and Gus arrived. I hadn't quite finished cleaning, but it would have to do. It seemed he didn't want the men to see me tending him. That would make stitching him up somewhat difficult.
He inspected the supplies the men had brought up. "Is everything sterilized?"
"Steamed the needle and thread in the kitchen," Seth said. To me, he added, "Surgical thread. We keep some just in case."
"You get wounded often?" I asked.
"Enough that we need a supply of it on hand. Mr. Fitzroy does all the stitching, though. Never had to do it myself."
"Nor me," Gus chimed in. "I'm happy to try my hand."
"Try your hand?" I shook my head. "I may not be much of a lady, but I've been sewing and embroidering since I was old enough to hold a needle. I'll do it."
