8 The Scent of Wild Flowers

The scent of wild flowers filled his nostrils. He inhaled deeply, wanting to absorb more of that sweet perfume deep into his lungs. It strangely didn't hurt to breathe. He had almost forgotten what it felt like--not to hurt with every breath he took.

He inhaled again, savoring the sweet floral scent, and reveling on the joyous fact that his insides no longer felt as if a thousand spears were repeatedly stabbing him. The lack of pain felt truly pleasurable.

He opened his eyes and surveyed his surroundings.

He was in the same room that he had found himself upon awakening earlier. It was a shanty, of sorts. Small, sparsely furnished, with basic furniture pieces lacking in any valuable decorations, gilded gold, or even the most basic of gemstones.

He was lying on a bed that was covered in, of all things, beige leather that was so worn, it almost looked like old felt. Who in heavens covers their beds in old leather?

His eyes picked up the slant of the sun coming through the window to his left, indicating that it was some time past noon. The room was quiet except for the steady breathing of someone next to him. It was the source of the scent of wild flowers.

He turned his head and saw her.

This was the same woman he'd nearly strangled to death before, when he was barely conscious and was gripped in a fevered pitch.

She had seemed like a dangerous hellcat earlier, but now, she looked soft and vulnerable. Her body was small and fragile, and her exposed neck looked so thin and frail, it could snap if he put the slightest pressure.

At this moment, her head was cradled in her arms, which were crossed over her knees. Her breathing was steady and deep, and soft strands of her dark brown hair had fallen over her face, obscuring her visage.

She was sitting so close to him that he could smell her aura. It was a bright sparkling scent, reminiscent of wild yellow flowers and spring grasses. He was definitely intrigued. Whoever she was, he wanted to find out more.

Light streaming in from the skylight on the ceiling illuminated her from above. He could see the shimmer of translucent ivory skin on her arms, which were, at the moment, mere inches away from his face. It was a dizzying feeling, as he felt himself falling head-over-heels into that heady scent of wild flowers. Their fingertips were so close, they were almost touching.

On a whim, he reached out and clasped her hand.

The girl gave a startled gasp and pulled her hand away. She lifted her head, her stunned dark brown eyes met his. He felt himself drowning in those warm brown eyes with those mesmerizing flecks of gold.

He thought she was going to run away in fright, but in one quick move, she had turned squarely on him and began touching his forehead and his cheeks with concerned hands.

She pried open each of his eyes, checking for something, and then she leaned into his chest with one ear in an apparent attempt to listen to his heart.

At first, he was too shocked to react to her strange actions, but then reason took over, and as her face was intently listening to his heart beating, he grabbed her body and pulled her on top of him.

"Hey! You're still really sick! Stop messing around." She yelled and tried to slide off his body, but he continued holding onto her, his grip tightening on her body. It felt like he was hugging a bouquet of flowers, she smelled so good.

"Who's messing around? You're the one who's been lecherously touching me all this time." He snickered. This girl was just too easy to tease.

"I was just checking on your vitals to make sure your body wasn't going into shock," she glowered, "but it looks like you're more than just fine, so you can let me up now."

"Women do not touch men to that extent unless they are wide open and ready to be ravished." He breathed into her ear.

Her eyes grew wide, the gold flecks deep within her dark brown pupils glittered with something akin to recognition of the truth of his words.

"I'm a healer. I'm not touching a man or a woman. I'm touching a patient." She spat out in desperation. Her hands continued to push at him.

"Well, in that case" he began nibbling her ear. "I think my body still needs help. Come. Touch me some more." He gently laughed.

"Oh, you are impossible…" She growled deep in her throat, trying to warn him off, but to his ears, she sounded like a sexy feline, deep in the throes of heat. "Let go of me, you brute!"

As she continued to struggle, he could tell that her attempts were half-hearted, not because she was faking a protest, but because she was trying to avoid hurting him. This realization made him chuckle.

She was not just physically small and fragile, she had next to nothing, as far as inner life source energy was concerned. Even as badly injured as he was, this girl could not do anything to hurt him.

"I will let you go on one condition." He grinned.

"What do you want?" She shot him a suspicious frown.

"I want a kiss."

"No." She snarled.

"No kiss, no go." He shut his eyes, as if he was bored with the conversation, but his arms tightened onto her body.

"You need to behave. Now let me go or the next time I have to change your needle, I will really make your life miserable." She protested with such fierce conviction, it only caused Erick to chuckle. She really was too cute.

All the struggling and squirming she'd done up to this point only caused her to fully lie atop him, as she lacked the strength to push his arms off her body.

"Let go of her!" A voice rang out somewhere above them.