shook her head and dragged one of the wooden chairs over to the window. “Accomplice by default.”
“Would it help to know we’re grateful?”
She grunted her disbelief. “Speak for yourself. I don’t think Ahmad feels that way.”
“He does, though he may never tell you.”
She sealed her lips around her thoughts on that score, but turned her gaze to the city streets outside. The sun sank in the west and the lantern lighters slowly illuminated the wagon wheel of the town. She wondered what business Ahmad had without Brandon, but shoved the thoughts away. I really don’t want to know any more about him than I have to. The guy had more warning flags than a football game and she’d learned to listen to her gut, especially when it came to enigmatic men. If Hollywood taught me anything, it’s to watch my back around guys like that.
Below her, a few prostitutes plied their trade out of sight of the guards who patrolled the streets. That’s probably the “business” Ahmad’s attending to this evening . She shouldn’t think so meanly of the women making their living selling their bodies. What makes me any different as a Hollywood actress? Just because she didn’t like Ahmad didn’t mean she should deride the ladies. She shot a look at Brandon as he cleaned his sword and dagger blades. The steady sound of the oiled cloth sweeping over the steel soothed her worries and relaxed her body.
She stretched her arms overhead, but stopped short when the bandage around her arm pulled at her wound. Ugh, I should clean it. The last thing she wanted to do was fool with pain, but it wouldn’t heal if she didn’t keep it clean. No pain, no gain, right?
She rose from the window and filled a washing bowl with water. She dug through her saddle bags and retrieved the little first aid kit before sitting down in her chair again. Taking a deep breath, she slowly unwound the bandana. It came off easily until the last layer took the scab off her arm.
She whimpered involuntarily and tears sprang to her eyes as she pulled it away. Brandon looked up, his gaze assessing, but didn’t stop rubbing the blade with the oiled cloth. She dropped the bandana into the water and rinsed it out. The blood promptly turned it a deep red and more oozed from her wound. Despite its soreness, it didn’t look infected. Thank God. Touching the wound again made her hiss and the sound of the cloth against the sword stopped.
Brandon crouched in front of her, his expression concerned. “With your permission, Iliana, let me help you with that.”
“I just need to clean it and get more lavender oil on it.” She blinked away the tears and gritted her teeth until the pain settled back into a dull throb.
“Let me help.”
“What are you going to do?”
He gave her a dry smile. “I’ll clean it and put some of this on it.” He held up a round earthen vial she’d seen in the marketplace.
“Did that come from the apothecary’s stall?” When he nodded, she frowned. “What is it?”
“It's a medicinal salve for healing wounds and keeping them clean.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve used it a few times. Just trust me.” He pulled the cork on the vial and a stringent, medicinal scent filled the air. “It’ll help.”
She bit her bottom lip. “All right.”
“First, let’s see if we can clear some of the dried blood.”
Brandon set the salve down and squeezed out the extra water from the bandana with a frown. “You said you had lavender oil?”
“Yes, I found it in Kyram’s saddle bags. He had a small—” She interrupted herself with a hiss as the bandana snagged on the edges of the gash when Brandon wiped it. “Oh, glory, that hurts.” More tears started in her eyes, but she blinked them back.
“Sorry. It’s proving stubborn.”
“Yeah, I don’t know anyone else like that.”
He chuckled as he wiped away the last of the blood. “It looks fairly clean and healthy. The lavender must have done its job. Now I’ll add the
“Would it help to know we’re grateful?”
She grunted her disbelief. “Speak for yourself. I don’t think Ahmad feels that way.”
“He does, though he may never tell you.”
She sealed her lips around her thoughts on that score, but turned her gaze to the city streets outside. The sun sank in the west and the lantern lighters slowly illuminated the wagon wheel of the town. She wondered what business Ahmad had without Brandon, but shoved the thoughts away. I really don’t want to know any more about him than I have to. The guy had more warning flags than a football game and she’d learned to listen to her gut, especially when it came to enigmatic men. If Hollywood taught me anything, it’s to watch my back around guys like that.
Below her, a few prostitutes plied their trade out of sight of the guards who patrolled the streets. That’s probably the “business” Ahmad’s attending to this evening . She shouldn’t think so meanly of the women making their living selling their bodies. What makes me any different as a Hollywood actress? Just because she didn’t like Ahmad didn’t mean she should deride the ladies. She shot a look at Brandon as he cleaned his sword and dagger blades. The steady sound of the oiled cloth sweeping over the steel soothed her worries and relaxed her body.
She stretched her arms overhead, but stopped short when the bandage around her arm pulled at her wound. Ugh, I should clean it. The last thing she wanted to do was fool with pain, but it wouldn’t heal if she didn’t keep it clean. No pain, no gain, right?
She rose from the window and filled a washing bowl with water. She dug through her saddle bags and retrieved the little first aid kit before sitting down in her chair again. Taking a deep breath, she slowly unwound the bandana. It came off easily until the last layer took the scab off her arm.
She whimpered involuntarily and tears sprang to her eyes as she pulled it away. Brandon looked up, his gaze assessing, but didn’t stop rubbing the blade with the oiled cloth. She dropped the bandana into the water and rinsed it out. The blood promptly turned it a deep red and more oozed from her wound. Despite its soreness, it didn’t look infected. Thank God. Touching the wound again made her hiss and the sound of the cloth against the sword stopped.
Brandon crouched in front of her, his expression concerned. “With your permission, Iliana, let me help you with that.”
“I just need to clean it and get more lavender oil on it.” She blinked away the tears and gritted her teeth until the pain settled back into a dull throb.
“Let me help.”
“What are you going to do?”
He gave her a dry smile. “I’ll clean it and put some of this on it.” He held up a round earthen vial she’d seen in the marketplace.
“Did that come from the apothecary’s stall?” When he nodded, she frowned. “What is it?”
“It's a medicinal salve for healing wounds and keeping them clean.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve used it a few times. Just trust me.” He pulled the cork on the vial and a stringent, medicinal scent filled the air. “It’ll help.”
She bit her bottom lip. “All right.”
“First, let’s see if we can clear some of the dried blood.”
Brandon set the salve down and squeezed out the extra water from the bandana with a frown. “You said you had lavender oil?”
“Yes, I found it in Kyram’s saddle bags. He had a small—” She interrupted herself with a hiss as the bandana snagged on the edges of the gash when Brandon wiped it. “Oh, glory, that hurts.” More tears started in her eyes, but she blinked them back.
“Sorry. It’s proving stubborn.”
“Yeah, I don’t know anyone else like that.”
He chuckled as he wiped away the last of the blood. “It looks fairly clean and healthy. The lavender must have done its job. Now I’ll add the
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