Death is Forever

without answering, which told her more than she wanted to know.

18
Darwin
    “I still think you should let me take you to a doctor,” Erin said unhappily.
    Cole walked into the hotel room, saying nothing. His leg ached and was bleeding, but he knew the wound itself was little more than a burn. All he needed was some help cleaning and bandaging his thigh.
    She shut and locked the door behind her. The hotel room was small and modestly furnished. Her old camera bag and new duffel were on the bed, as was Cole’s new duffel.
    “Let me help you to…” Her glance went to his thigh. “My God!”
    “Don’t go all soft and useless on me now,” he said. “It’s just blood.”
    Moisture shone darkly against his slacks. If the cloth had been any color but black, he couldn’t have concealed the fact that he was wounded. As she watched in horror, a bright scarlet rivulet slid from beneath his cuff onto his shoe.
    “Unless you’re planning to leave tracks all over the carpet, you’d better go into the bathroom,” she said in a voice that was too high and thin.
    He walked unevenly to the bathroom, lowered the toilet lid, and sat down to remove his shoes and socks. Silently she sank to her knees in front of him, pushed his hands away, and began pulling off his shoes. Blood dripped onto her fingers. She made a low sound of distress and tried to work faster.
    “Relax, honey,” he said. “It’s not serious.”
    “Just a scratch, right?” she shot back, angry because he was hurt and there was nothing she could do to change that. “I’ve got news for you, big man. Scratches don’t bleed this much.”
    “Blood isn’t spurting with each heartbeat, so the bullet didn’t get anything important. As for the mess—hell, it’s not like you don’t see blood regularly.”
    “I only hunted whales once.”
    “I was talking about your period.”
    Erin gave Cole a glittering look. He smiled. She let out a pent-up breath and shook her head.
    “Has anyone ever told you that you’re impossible?” she asked, bending over his feet once more.
    “Nope. Want to be the first?”
    She made a sound that could have been exasperation or amusement, but her hands were much steadier now. Cole was right. She saw blood every month, like clockwork.
    By the time Erin had his shoes and socks off, Cole had unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it beyond reach of the blood that was sticking to everything. With quick motions he unzipped his slacks and began removing them. At the scrape of cloth over the wound, his breath hissed between his teeth.
    “You’re hurting yourself,” she said. “I’ll cut off the pant leg.”
    “No. I don’t want to waste time shopping again. I’ll have to wear these pants on the airplane.”
    She looked up. “Does that mean we’re going back to California?”
    “No. We’re going to Derby. With luck, they’ll waste their time looking for us between Darwin and Abe’s station while we come in from the other side. Get a pillowcase, honey. I’ll rip it up for bandages.”
    “I’ve got a first-aid kit in my camera bag.”
    By the time she got back to the bathroom, Cole was standing in his jockey shorts, one hip propped against the washbasin as he tried to examine the red slash across his muscular inner thigh. To Erin’s adrenaline-heightened senses, the naked strength of his body was suddenly, violently attractive. She remembered the terrible feeling of rage and helplessness she’d known when she went down beneath the attackers. Then she’d heard Cole’s voice promising vengeance for her hurt, and she’d known—really known —that this time she wasn’t fighting alone. This time a man was going to use his strength to help her rather than to brutalize her.
    Cole turned toward her. As he moved, light fell across him at a different angle, creating new shadows and highlights. For a crazy moment she wanted to grab her camera and catch the supple strength and masculine textures of his body. He was…beautiful.
    The thought stunned her.
    “Sit down,” she said huskily. “Let me help you.”
    His eyes narrowed at the change in her voice, a softness where before there had been only the clipped irritation and anger of an adrenaline backlash. Now she was looking at him like she’d never seen him before, her extraordinary green eyes clear and wide, approving of him with an intensity that made his heart pound heavily.
    Silently he sat down on the toilet seat.
    She rinsed out a washcloth in cold water before