573: Let Me Help

Let Me Help

LERRIN1

Suhle had somehow found a new set of clothing that fit him almost as well as those that were made for him. When she'd bustled in with a big basket on her arm and a frown on her face, he'd been concerned, but she was muttering about not being able to arrange a true bath for him.

"They will not allow it," she said through her teeth.

Lerrin had cupped her face and made her stop to look at him. "I am so thankful that you care," he said softly.

She'd smiled then and it lit his heart up from the inside.

He'd hated not being able to bathe. It was, for him, the worst part of imprisonment. But she'd been so diligent about bringing cloths and wash water. It was no worse than when he'd been travelling in winter and unable to use the streams or rivers. So he hadn't sighed when she'd produced yet another large jar of water and small pile of soft cloths for him to use. At least he wouldn't stink.

But then she turned and began on the buttons of his shirt.

He was still in a great deal of pain, but he'd tried to struggle to his feet.

"Don't move," she said firmly. "I'm going to give you herbs before you go so that they are at their most effective and you are strongest with you are with the elders. But that means you need to lay still now and let me bathe you. Do not tax yourself."

His body tightened at the suggestion. "You think undoing my own buttons will tax me?"

She looked up at him through her lashes and her lips slid up on one side. "No, that will tax me," she said quietly. Her cheeks pinking. "You are far too slow."

He's mouth had dropped open—was she flirting with him?—but she put her head back down and focused on his buttons. Really hard. Then tugged his shirt out of the waistband of his leathers.

Then set to the buttons on his leathers.

Lerrin swallowed hard and prayed that he wouldn't frighten her.

But though he'd been bathed by her countless times before, it hadn't happened recently. And not since he had surrendered to his feelings for her.

She made a small noise when she got the last of his buttons undone, and her cheeks got hotter, but she didn't say anything, just tugged his leathers off and instructed him not to move from where he sat. Then she began to bathe him, and Lerrin thought his heart might explode.

She took his had gently, extending his arm slowly, Then pulled the cloth out of the large jar at her side, squeezing it with one, strong hand.

When she played the cloth on his skin, to his surprise, it was still hot. She must have taken the time to heat the water, then run it here.

His skin prickled from the delicious feeling of the wet softness, combined with her tender touch. Prickled, and saluted.

Suhle, ever the faithful servant, avoided his groin with her eyes, and focused on his arms, then his back, and torso.

But the closer she got to cleaning his lower half, the stronger his body's reaction—and the more he struggled not to take her in his arms, despite the pain.

The warmth of the water was strangely comforting. But the feel of her hands on him, even in such an efficient way, was lighting him up from the inside.

When the moment came, she didn't meet his eyes, but washed him as quickly and efficiently as she could. Then she wrung the cloth out in the water and turned to him.

He'd kept his eyes closed because the sight of her bent over him might have sent him over the edge. But when she sighed, he opened his eyes to find her staring at him.

Not at his eyes.

"I told you, you're beautiful," he said, his voice a guttural rasp.

She did meet his eyes then, but she wasn't smiling. "I could…" she started, glancing down at him, then back to his eyes. "I could bring you relief… if you wish?"

Oh, Creator's fang, he wanted to tear at his own throat after seeing that look on her face. Because she was curious, but she was also afraid—and willing to walk into her fear for him.

"Suhle," he croaked, then took her hands in his. "Never, ever touch me—or any male—at any time that it doesn't feel natural, or… or good. Do you understand. Never! I will never ask you to. And if you think that I am, ask me. Because I never want to see that look on your face ever again," he rasped, then pulled her into a kiss.

She was surprised by the kiss, and it took her a moment. But then her mouth opened and she melted into him, clawing her fingers into his hair.

He broke it off before it made his predicament worse. But by that time, she had relaxed and her smile had returned.

She helped him dress, which was no easy feat with him sitting down. Then she sat next to him against the wall of the tree and prepared some herbs.

Lerrin closed his eyes and let his head sink back. He was already exhausted, and he hadn't even moved yet. How was he going to get through the walk to the meeting, and then the hour or more that they might keep him there?

"I am making a… a paste," Suhle said quietly, grinding something in a small mortar and pestle she'd brought with her. "It will taste terrible. But it will work quickly and longer than the leaves alone. But I don't know how long you will be meeting with the elders, so I'm not sure when—"

She broke off as the door opened and a guard peered around. "Oh, good. You're dressed. You're to be ready in twenty minutes. I hope you can walk."

Suhle sighed with relief, then pushed to her feet as the guard disappeared and the door locked again.

"Then it's time," she said, offering him the mortar. "I know it tastes terrible. But you'll thank me soon."

"I'll thank you now," he said, taking it from her with a heavy, shaking arm. Praying that whatever she'd come up with it, it would give him the strength to get to his feet—and to walk.

Their fingers brushed as she passed it to him and their eyes met and electricity crackled between them.

"Thank you," Lerrin said, his voice little more than a low growl.

Suhle smiled.

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