Tears gathered in her eyes from his kindness, and one rolled down her cheek, burning her raw skin. “Daire—”
“No tears,” he said, a snap in his tone. “Shut your eyes, focus on my hand, and heal your damn face.”
She sniffed and shut her eyes. Drawing in air, she filled her lungs, focusing on the heat he was generating within her. She imagined the warmth flowing through her skin, up her arms, over her neck, to her aching skull. Tingles zapped, and she caught her breath at the power. It was always inside her, but Daire had harnessed and focused it for her.
Healing hurt like hell.
She kept her breathing even, gasping only with the sharpest of pains, allowing tears to fall. Every time she jerked, Daire’s arms tightened, and his body stiffened, as if he shared the pain. She kept all sound at bay, refusing to cry out and cause him any more distress.
The process took nearly an hour, and by the time her face felt healed, they were both sweating. She blinked and then slowly turned her head back and forth. A residual pain thrummed through her head, but it was more of an afterthought.
As the pain finally ebbed, her body focused elsewhere. On the hard thighs beneath her butt, and the thick chest holding her close. Hair covered his chest and led in a nice trail down to his pants. A manly chest. He stirred beneath her, and she realized some of the hardness wasn’t his thighs. Heat flared into her face, zinged down her torso, and bloomed in her feminine parts.
He looked down. “All healed.” Satisfaction glittered in his eyes along with something else. Hunger.
She nodded, her body crashing, even with desire fluttering through her. Her eyelids grew heavy. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she whispered.
He tucked her face into his neck and caressed a broad hand down her hair. “I’m not nice.”
The sheer comfort of the moment almost made her purr. “Yes. I drugged you and stole from you.” While the idea had seemed fine before she had gotten to know him, now it seemed shameful, although she’d had no choice. She’d done enough research to know his weaknesses, and she couldn’t afford to let him know the full truth. “You’re a good guy, Daire Dunne.”
He chuckled, and his heated breath stirred her hair. “Don’t think for a second that I’m a good guy. I’m just a guy who gets things done, and sometimes it’s bloody, and sometimes it’s necessary. Healing your face was necessary.”
She struggled to remain awake. “Thank you.”
He held her tight, keeping her warm and protected, even as he rested back his head. “You’re welcome. Now get some sleep, finish healing, and tomorrow you’re gonna tell me everything.”
She wanted to protest, because she truly couldn’t tell him everything. He was an enforcer, and if he had any clue who she was, he’d ship her home. Or at least he’d try to, and she really didn’t want to fight with him now. For years she’d done what she had to do, and now it was her time. Her time to set right the wrongs of years ago, and nobody, not family, allies, or even deadly witch enforcers, was going to stop her. “I wish things were different,” she whispered.
“They will be tomorrow.” His words had the sound of a vow.
She snuggled closer, enjoying the feeling of male all around her. It had been so long. “Is there anything you have to do? A calling or a duty? Something nobody else can do?” she mumbled.
“I’m an enforcer for the Council of the Coven Nine,” he said simply. “It’s not a job.”
It was a calling. “You’re a protector, Dunne.”
“Aye.”
“I don’t need a protector.” She couldn’t afford one right now.
“Well now, Cee Cee. Considering you have drugged me, stolen from me, and basically lied to me, if you did need a protector, it’d be from me.”
Enough truth existed in the statement that it gave her pause. “It’s hard to be scared of a half-naked man holding you tight,” she murmured.