Page 27 of Tamed By Her Touch

“The wound is superficial,” he growled.

“You’re bleeding,” Clair exclaimed, pointing at the thin line of dark crimson blood that was already running down his wrist.

“I have sustained far worse injuries in battle,” Kaelus said dismissively, which reminded her that he was a warrior as well as a scientist. All the Kindred were warriors first—she sometimes forgot that.

But just because he’d gotten wounded in battle, it didn’t invalidate the fact that there was a huge thorn sticking out of his palm!

Suddenly, something in Clair snapped.

“Sit down,” she ordered.

His eyebrows rose.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me,” Clair said, pointing toward the stool beside her workstation. “Sit down, big fella.”

“I do not require⁠—”

“Kaelus, sit down,” she said firmly.

To her complete surprise, he did.

The giant Hybrid lowered himself onto the stool, though even seated he was taller than Clair was standing. He held his injured hand away from his body while Clair hurried to get the medical kit they kept mounted beside the safety shower.

“Give me your hand,” she said when she came back.

“I am capable of removing the barb myself.”

“I'm sure you are,” Clair told him. “And I'm capable of climbing shelves, but apparently we're not allowed to do everything we're capable of doing in this laboratory, are we?”

His mouth tightened but he said nothing. Good—she’d clearly made her point.

Clair held out her hand.

“All right—let me see it.”

Kaelus sighed, but he finally placed his enormous hand in hers.

Clair had held his hand before—well, sort of. He had grabbed her wrists during the solvent accident and of course he'd held her when he caught her falling from the shelves, but this was different.

His hand was huge and her own looked tiny beneath it.

His skin was warm and slightly rough she noted—callused across the palm and along the base of his fingers. Clair found herself remembering those same hands wrapped around her hips beneath the emergency shower and quickly pushed the thought away.

“I'm going to pull the thorn out,” she told him. “Tell me if it hurts.”

“I will not.”

Clair looked up, frowning.

“You won't tell me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because pain is irrelevant.”