Healer's Touch (Deadly Touch #1) [Complete]

Chapter 16: It's Just Sex

Llew pressed the softest, most luxurious towel she had ever touched to her skin, dabbing the water away. Somehow, scrubbing didn't seem appropriate with something so masterfully woven, cleansed and dried.

She crossed the room to her bed and brushed the sheets with her fingers; they were smooth and soft and inviting. She almost wished there wasn't a ball that evening – she couldn't wait to curl up and sleep in those blankets.

She jumped at a knock on her door.

"Just a minute," she called, pulling the towel around her and crossing the room.

"Where is it?" Her heart nearly stopped at Jonas's hostile tone. She had known he would notice the knife's absence, and she had known he would know who took it. If anything, she was surprised he hadn't come sooner. She had been preparing for this, but still she wasn't prepared.

"What?"

"You know what. Open the door."

She secured the towel about her, turned the lock, and skipped out of the door's sweep as soon as the latch clicked.

"Where is it?" he said, striding into the room.

"You won't find it, and I'm not giving it back to you tonight. So, you might as well go to the dance. I'll keep it safe."

"Is that what this is about?" He almost laughed. "You want me to go to a dance? You stupid girl." He started rummaging through her drawers. They were mostly empty, only containing the few items Lord Tovias's staff had supplied his guests: hairbrushes, undergarments, towels.

"You won't find it."

He turned to her, eyes narrowed, and then walked to the bed and threw back the blankets. The pillows were flung aside. He growled in frustration and came across to her.

"What did you do with it?" He leaned towards her. She could feel his breath on her skin.

"I said I wasn't giving it back to you. Let it be my problem tonight," Llew replied as calmly as possible. "Now I would like to finish drying off. I have a social engagement to prepare for. Please leave." She pointed toward the door. Her hand barely shook.

His hard expression faltered at her commanding tone, and his eyes swept down to her bare shoulders and the towel clasped around her. He swallowed, and Llew saw in him the same hunger she'd seen in other men, but in Jonas it was mixed with a nervousness or fear she'd never seen before. Of all people, this man had all the power needed to make her do what she didn't want to do.

But now she did want to. When she'd been with men previously, they'd taken what they wanted. Jonas wouldn't take. He would ask, but he looked too unnerved even to do that. Scared of hurting her? Of wanting what Aris said he couldn't have?

Everything she had complained about to Anya fell away. There would be no writhing. Not in a bad way, anyway.

She lifted her chin and relaxed her hold on her towel, revealing the plump curve of a breast pressed up by the hand beneath. Jonas swallowed again, his eyes searching hers. Llew let the towel slip a little more, flicking her eyes down to direct his gaze, with her breathing becoming shallow and quickening. He looked down, back up, and then stepped close to her, his hands coming up to cup her jaw. Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him into her. Their lips pressed together.

In the hall, Hisham cleared his throat.

Jonas kicked the door closed with his heel and nudged Llew back toward the bed, while she pushed open his leather vest and began work on his shirt buttons. With her hands otherwise occupied, the towel fell to the floor.

As soon as his shirt came open, she pushed it from his shoulders. Lean though he was, muscles rippled under the skin as he reached to pull her face to his again. Her hands roved his hard back, feeling the little raised patches of scarred skin. This man kissing her with the same combination of hunger and tenderness that she felt for him had seen combat unlike anything that had happened on the shores of her country. She let her eyes follow the line of his shoulder to his biceps, where he had been injured in Stelt. The wound was knitting well. It would soon join the ranks of the other scars over his body. She wished she could fix it for him. She wished she could fix them all.