Sweet Vengeance by Cindy Stark Page B

There were a couple of gashes, one with a
stitch, but overall she didn't think it looked too bad.  He covered the two
larger cuts with ointment and rewrapped it before taking her other hand. 
    She
exhaled a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.  He glanced at her and
then back at his work.  He was so close.  Close enough she could reach out and
run a hand over his spiky hair.  What would it be like if she could touch him
like she'd been tempted to?  What if they weren't in hiding?  What if she'd met
him instead of Joey, and he wasn't connected to organized crime? 
    She
inhaled.  What would it be like to kiss him?
    He
tilted his face toward her, and she exhaled a slow breath.  She hoped her
expression didn't betray her thoughts.  There was no way he could know what
she'd been thinking.  No way.
    He
gave her a smile that said otherwise.  "Let's work on that arm now."
    Allie
glanced down at her hands, finding nothing but a band-aid on the second one. 
She'd been so distracted by him she hadn't realized he'd finished.  "This
one doesn't need to be wrapped?"
    "It
looks good.  We'll have to leave the one stitch in for a little while,
though."  He nodded.  "You had a rough time last night."  He
stood and with a gentle touch, he slipped her shirt sleeve up to her shoulder,
the act seeming far more intimate than it was.  "This might hurt a
bit," he said as he lifted the scissors. 
    His
hands felt strong, capable as he held her arm and began cutting the gauze
wrap.  Allie watched as his deft fingers removed the wrap, leaving only a gauze
pad.  She held her breath as he lifted it away, not really feeling any pain. 
When the air hit her injury, she sucked in a sharp breath.  It burned like no
other.
    "Sorry,"
he whispered.
    Halfway
between her elbow and shoulder was a raw red wound about three inches long.
    "You
lucked out.  The bullet only grazed you," he said as he held up her arm
and examined it.  "But sometimes this type hurts the worst because all the
damage is right along the top layers where your nerve endings are."
    She
didn't feel so lucky when he poured sterile water on a gauze pad and began
cleaning it.  "Ah..."  She tried to breathe through the intense pain. 
She focused on his face instead of her wound, observing the stubble on his chin
and the way his haircut made each hair on the top of his head spike upward. 
    "Almost
done."  He picked up a fresh pad and covered her wound.  He wrapped it
with a strip of gauze to hold it in place.  "Hold this."  She placed
a finger over the end of the gauze while he ripped off a piece of paper tape to
hold his handiwork in place.
    "Are
you done?" she asked, releasing a huge sigh.  The pain had lessened now
that he wasn't messing with her injury.
    He
smiled, looking into her eyes.  "All done."
    "Thank
you."  She smiled in return and stood, vacating the corner of the bed for
him.  He brushed past her as he took a seat, his bare stomach skimming her
forearm.  She shivered from the close contact.
    She
glanced at the supplies on the bed, suddenly nervous.  He might be an old pro
at this, but she had no idea what to do.  Bandaging a skinned knee, she could
handle.  But this?
    She
followed his lead, taking the small pair of scissors and holding his arm away
from his body.  The skin beneath her fingers was smooth and in sharp contrast
to the hardened muscle that lay beneath.  "Here?" she asked, as she
slipped the edge of the scissors beneath his bandage.
    "That's
good."  He watched as she began to cut, but then he tilted his head,
bringing his face only inches from her. 
    She
bit her lip and tried to concentrate on her task.  "Please don't look at
me while I do this."  She glanced at him.  His eyes were serious and more
than a little unnerving.
    "Why
not?  You're nice to look at."
    Her
heart skipped a beat.  "Well, unless you want a cut to go along with your
gunshot wound, you'd better watch what I'm doing instead."
    He
shifted his gaze back