He opened his eyes and looked down at her.
She wasn't looking at him. She was looking at the wall, at the ceiling, at the lantern, at anything that wasn't his face, and her cheeks had gone from pink to something closer to crimson. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth. Her green eyes darted toward him once, briefly, wanting, electric and then away again.
"You don't have to," she added quickly. "I mean, only if…it's fine if you-"
Liam nodded.
She picked up the sponge.
Her hands were steady when they touched him, which surprised him. She started on his back, pressing the sponge between his shoulder blades and dragging it in slow, firm circles. The foam was thick and warm, and her fingers worked through it with a surprising gentleness that didn't match the way she swung a sword. She found the knots along his spine and pressed into them, and Liam let out a low groan that came from somewhere deep in his chest.
Elizabeth's hands faltered for half a second. Then continued.
