Page 36 of Killaney Blood
I crack an ice pack, feeling it grow cold in my hands, then press it against his ribs. He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth.
"Hold this," I say.
He does, but then his hand slides over mine.
I freeze.
His thumb strokes the back of my hand. I don't pull away. Not at first.
Our eyes meet, and something electric passes between us.
Finally, I break the contact first, reaching for the gauze. "I need to wrap you to keep it in place."
I lean in close, passing the gauze around his back, my chest nearly touching his as I work. Each time I reach around him, it brings us closer. His breath fans against my collarbone. His chest brushes mine. His scent fills my nostrils, making my pulse quicken.
As I bend down to secure the wrap lower on his abdomen, I catch him staring straight down my shirt.
Shit. I didn't put on a bra and my nipples are hard.
Heat rushes to my face. Is it the adrenaline? The cold from the ice pack? Or something else entirely?
I try to ignore it, focusing on the task at hand. But then his hand is on my wrist, stopping me.
"Lyra," he says, his voice lower than before.
When I look up, his face is inches from mine. His green eyes nearly black in the dim light. The hand on my wrist slides up my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
"Don't," I whisper, but I don't pull away.
"You're hurt."
I look at him, confused. "What? I'm not?—"
His eyes drift down, and I follow his gaze to see a dark patch spreading across my shirt. Blood. But I don't feel any pain.
"I don't understand," I whisper.
The room shifts. Blurs. When everything comes back into focus, I'm the one sitting in the chair. The kitchen's darker now. Different.
Declan towers over me, his face a mask of concern that doesn't match the hungry look in his eyes.
"Let me help you," he says, voice humming in my ears.
He reaches for my shirt.
"Declan, wait?—"
The rest of my words die in my throat as his fingers brush against my skin, leaving trails of heat. Before I can think, he lifts the shirt up and over my head and I don't stop him.
The cool air hits my bare breasts as I sit topless, exposed. His eyes devour every inch of me.
I instinctively cross my arms to cover myself.
"I'm fine, really," I say, but the words sound weak even to my own ears.
Declan's hands wrap around my wrists. His grip is firm as he pries my arms apart, exposing me to his gaze. My breasts rise with each deep breath, nipples aching now. My heart hammers against my ribs, but I don't fight him. I can't. Something in me doesn't want to.
"Don't hide from me," he says, eyes drinking in every inch of exposed skin.
