Fight for Me Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Natalie Farrington Kent.”
    If he recognized her name, his expression didn’t give any indication.
    “Why don’t you get cleaned up?” He nodded toward the bathroom.
    Of course. That was why they were here, after all. She stripped off her hoodie, cringing at the bloodstained shirt she still wore. She couldn’t wait to throw it away.
    But wait, would that be safe? She hadn’t planned for this situation.
Damn it!
    She glanced up at Knox, now shirtless and riffling through his duffel bag. When he pulled out a small first-aid kit, she gasped.
    “You were hurt!” She crossed the room to him, and gently put her fingers on his shoulder. “You were shot.”
    He shrugged. “Just a graze.”
    She looked to the other arm, where a gash was still seeping blood. “He got you with the knife.”
    “No. That was from earlier.”
    She raised her eyebrows in question, but he said nothing.
    “Let me help you with this,” she said.
    “I’m used to tending my own wounds.”
    She bit her lip and studied the gash. “This one’s deep. It might need stitches.”
    He shook his head. “I’ve had worse. It’ll be fine.”
    She put her hands on her hips and frowned at him. Why was he pulling back? Didn’t he realize he’d saved her life? The least she could do was help. She picked up his kit and walked toward the bathroom. “Come in here where the light’s better.”
    She flipped on the light in the bathroom and jumped, her hand clutching at her chest. He was right behind her in the mirror. She laughed nervously, trying to play it off. “You move fast.”
    The bathroom was tiny, and the two of them could barely fit in it together without brushing up against one another. Her body was all too aware of his presence, which was overwhelming her in the small space.
    He leaned against the counter right beside her and tossed his ruined T-shirt into the trash can.
    Holy wow. She was kidding if she thought she was overwhelmed before. Her heart hammered in her rib cage.
    His chest and abs were muscled with deep ridges and valleys. Her fingers itched to run over the intricacies of his chest and abdomen. His physique looked like it belonged on a chiseled statue rather than a flesh-and-blood man.
    Over his right pec was a large tattoo of an X. She traced her fingers over it lightly, wanting to ask what it stood for but afraid he wouldn’t answer. Then she realized what she was doing—feeling up a virtual stranger. And while he was injured, no less. They’d only just met an hour before, and she didn’t even know his name until a few minutes ago.
    She looked up, her hand still on his chest, to find her face inches from his. Her gaze flicked down to his lips, and her insides warmed at the memory of the kiss they’d shared—hot, deep,
perfect.
His dark eyes bore into hers with an intensity she’d never experienced before. It rocked her. If he weren’t hurt and she weren’t . . .
    She cleared her throat and hastily dropped her hand.
Focus, Nat, focus.
She pulled out a small bottle of antiseptic. She looked up at him as she twisted off the cap. “This is going to sting.”
    With an apologetic look, she poured it on the gash. He didn’t even wince, keeping his gaze steady—unflinching—on her. She moved to his other arm to inspect the graze wound.
    “This one isn’t as bad,” she said, relieved. She hated that he had been hurt trying to help her. She owed her life to this man, this mysterious warrior. She wanted to unravel all his layers to find out what lay beneath.
    She tried to remain calm and collected as she treated his wounds, but every time her fingers came into contact with his skin, a jolt shot through her and continued to circulate. The energy and tension between them kept building and building. Her system was in overload just from being in such close proximity.
    “You’ll need to shower before I can cover it with gauze.”
    “Thank you,” he said.
    “You’re welcome.” She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling