"You're hurt." He set down the bucket and reached out to touch her shoulder. "Your foot."
"I am?" She glanced down at her toes then lifted one foot to see the spot of blood on the floor beneath it. "Oh. That opened up again. It's just a little cut." For some reason, she didn't react so badly to blood when it was her own. 'Twas only that of others that made her queasy.
"Sit down and let me look at it."
She shrugged and slid into a chair. Caddoc poured water from the bucket into the kettle and returned it to the hod. Then he sat across from her and lifted her foot into his lap. He suppressed a groan as his shirt rode high up on her ivory thighs.
"I don't know why they wouldn't let me wear slippers on the hillside."
"Probably so you wouldn't run away." Her feet were smooth and tiny, in proportion to her height. The firelight was dim, but his vision was excellent even in human form, so he surveyed the inch-long gash on the ball of her foot. It wasn't deep, but she shouldn't be walking on it as it was. He looked around for something to use as a bandage. "Where's your gown?"
"I used it to wipe up the mess, and then burned it," she said sheepishly. "I couldn't bear to see it with all that blood." She lifted a hand and swiped a hank of hair out of her eyes. It had grown tangled, the flowers and ribbons mostly gone. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up half a dozen times and still covered her all the way to her fingertips.
"Hmm. That leaves me with a problem, but I think I see a solution. Hold out your hands."
With no hesitation whatsoever, she did. Caddoc marvelled again at the trust she displayed.
"It's difficult not to trust you when you could have killed me and didn't," she said, answering the question he hadn't articulated.
He concentrated for a moment, then extended the claw from his right index finger. Very carefully, he cut the roll of fabric from the end of one sleeve, and then the other. She still didn't flinch. He sliced the fabric into long sections. After he retracted the claw, she smiled.
"That must have been handy a time or two."
"Not so often as you might think," he replied. He pulled small flask of whiskey from the pocket of his trousers and dampened one of the swatches of linen. "This is going to sting."
She clenched her hands in her lap and nodded. "Go ahead." While he cleaned the wound with the alcohol, she held her foot perfectly still. Finally, he padded the injury, wrapped her foot with another strip, and tied it off.
"Thank you...Caddoc."
"You're welcome."
Awkward silence reigned for a moment, then she raised her hands to her hair. "I rather wish you'd brought a hairbrush as well. I must look an utter fright."
"No." Quite the opposite. His throat caught at the picture she made, mussed and flushed, clad only in his garment. Almost as if they'd just made love. He swelled behind the flap of his trousers. Without a conscious thought, he tugged her onto his lap and replaced her hands with his, finger-combing the luxurious mass. Her hair was thick, with just a hint of a wave, and the texture was like rough-spun silk. She relaxed into him as he worked out every tangle, carefully removing the flowers and bits of ribbon. She didn't need the adornments. The scent of lemons wafted up to his nostrils and his cock tightened further. Who'd have known citrus could be an aphrodisiac?
"So what does the dragon usually do with his sacrifice?" she asked in a lazy, teasing tone. "It doesn't seem like much of a bargain, if you ask me. Unless you're in need of a housekeeper or governess."
"Well I recently acquired three young wards," he said. "Perhaps you could make yourself useful supervising them?"
"You're a very kind man, Caddoc. Thank you."
If she had any idea what he wanted to do to her right now, she'd be running, not thanking him. Her rounded arse rubbed up against his erection. Could she not feel it? His fingers snagged in a tangle and she caught her breath sharply, turning her head to look at him.
Caddoc gazed into her deep green eyes and was lost. Her pulse beat rapidly beneath the creamy skin of her throat. Her breath was shallow and rapid. Her lips were plump and parted, and he simply couldn't survive another minute without tasting them.
He moved slowly, giving her plenty of time to turn away. She didn't. She kept her eyes locked on his as he bent his head to hers.
He meant to keep it light. Just a taste, just a promise of what could be between them if circumstances were different. But then their lips met, and the kiss took on a life of its own.
Both of his hands were still tangled in her hair. He loosened one to hold her in place, wrapping around her waist to cup one strong, shapely thigh through the thin barrier of his shirt. The other he held at the nape of her neck, holding her still for his ravishment. And ravishment it was. Her lips parted as if instinctively beneath his, and he could not restrain himself from plunging inside to taste her sweetness.
She didn't slap him or try to pull away. Instead both of her hands came up to grip his bare shoulders, her short nails digging into his flesh. She was clearly untried, but it didn't take her long to follow his lead, and soon her lips were moving with his, her tongue stroking his own. He wasn't even sure if the low, hungry moan he heard came from her or from himself.
He pressed her closer, until her hip was snug against his throbbing member and one ripe breast was pressed into his chest. He could feel her nipple, pebbled and taut, where it rubbed against his skin, and her legs moved restlessly, stroking him through his trousers and causing the shirt to ride up above her hips. Caddoc's hand smoothed across bare skin, warm and softer than down. He slid the hand around to anchor her in place, then groaned loudly when his fingers encountered a nest of crisp, wet curls.
"Oh!" On that breathy gasp, she threw her head back and squeezed her eyes shut.