still. âThat was your nickname in high school, didnât you know?â
Somehow it didnât surprise him. High school had been a blur of anger and confusion. The Russians could have invaded, for all he would have noticed. âCanât say as I did.â
Kit finished cleaning the cut at his jaw, and then her gaze cut down to his leg. âAre you going to take your pants off or not?â
âDefinitely not.â
Her eyes glinted as she went for his belt. They circled one another for a moment and Wolfe realized she wasnât giving up. With a sigh he grabbed alcohol and cotton from the tray beside her on the counter, then removed a blood-soaked pad covering the wound just visible beneath his torn pants. He cleaned the area thoroughly, threaded a surgical needle, and went to work.
She stood watching, her hands locked at her sides.
Wolfe put in two precise stitches. As wounds went, this was only a scratch, so the sewing was no problem. Heâd already shot himself up with antibiotics and covered the area with a gauze bandage, but he should have closed the wound sooner.
No time like the present.
With steady fingers he held the torn skin in place and shoved the needle home.
âYou should take something for the pain.â
âNot necessary.â Wolfe put in another neat stitch.
Kit swallowed and looked away. âYouâve done this before, havenât you?â
âBasic field medicine.â He shrugged. âNo big deal.â
âI can see you donât need me.â She pushed away from the counter, her body stiff. âIâll get Traceâs bed ready.â
âDonât go to any trouble. I can sleep down here on the couch.â Not that heâd do much actual sleeping.
âYouâre sleeping in a bed, understood?â Her voice was tight. âItâs the least I can do.â
Turning, she collected the leftover bottles and bandages. When her gaze fell on the dogs, who were watching the byplay quietly, she frowned. âDo you hear that?â
âI donât hear anything.â
âThatâs my point. The dogs didnât bark at you. Whatâs going on here?â
Babyâs tail thumped on the floor, and Diesel gave a happy little yelp.
Kit glared at both of them. âWhat kind of guard work is that, you two?â
Babyâs tail thumped harder.
âSomethingâs wrong.â Kit rounded on Wolfe. âHave you been here before? Is that why my dogs know you? Thereâs no way they would let a stranger in here without a fuss.â
Wolfe cut a new piece of gauze and covered the wound loosely. The easiest thing to do now would be to brush away her memories, painting out all the unwanted details that would make her ask difficult questions. But he couldnât make her forget. He needed to stay inside the house. That would be the best way to keep her safe while he took a closer look at her dogs.
âWhatâs going on?â she demanded, standing stubbornly in front of him.
âJust a friendly visit, like I told you. When I came in the dogs growled a little. Then they smelled my hands for a long time, but they didnât seem upset. Maybe they could sense that Iâm not hostile.â
âMind reading isnât one of their skills, Wolfe. I donât buy any of this.â
âYou must be sleepy. Iâll finish up down here and take care of the window,â he said quietly. âGo on to bed.â
Kit shook her head. âNot until you explain.â
âWeâll talk about it tomorrow.â
âYou bet we will. If I werenât exhausted, Iâd make you talk now.â She winced a little, rubbing her hip. âThe dogs donât sleep in the house.â She yawned. âThey need to go outside to the kennel.â
âIâll take care of it.â
She didnât move.
âGo on. Get some sleep, Kit.â
âI always hated it when you gave me orders. I
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