Silvertip Mountain Most pitbulls are just three shih tzus wearing a trench coat

Arielle was only working. That was what Aventus told himself when she began to spread the poultice on his toe. There was nothing intimate in the way she kissed his flesh, but his face burned beneath his pelt and his throat felt tight. When she straightened up and instructed him to return later, it took every ounce of his effort not to look away as if he was ashamed. What little effort remained was used to rein in the compulsion to sweep her off her feet.

Listening. Right. He wasn't doing a very good job of that right now. He was so smitten and preoccupied with his nerves that he comprehended very little of what Arielle said. He opted for vague nodding. Bearclaw Valley was nicer than this mountain, he opined, thinking of the low light of Mosskeep and how lovely she would look in the shadows there.

Giving his head an unconscious shake, he inspected his toe and said, you are very good at this. I will be careful with it until I return this evening. The pain was little more than a dull throb now, a huge improvement already from the sharp stinging of earlier.