“I don’t explain myself.” Ignoring her frustrated look, he grabbed a towel and his first-aid kit from the bookcase. In a few minutes, he had the wound treated and wrapped.
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
Guilt jabbed at him once again as he returned his supplies to their rightful place. He handed her a pair of dry socks.
“Thank you,” she repeated.
“Don’t—” He clenched his jaw with exasperation. “Don’t thank me. You wouldn’t have gotten injured if I hadn’t put you through that stupid test.”
“I don’t mind proving myself.”
“You could have been injured or attacked.” He slipped a knife into each of his boots, then buckled on his sword belt. “I kept telling you not to wander about the forest alone at night, but then I intentionally put you into the exact same danger I warned you against. You should have slapped me when you had the chance.”
She gave him a curious look as she pulled on his socks. “Are you always this hard on yourself?”
He paused in the middle of fastening his watch on his right wrist. Normally it did a good job of concealing the damned tattoo. She was already seeing through him, asking questions. If he wasn’t careful, she would get completely under his skin.
He put on his coat. “Let’s get to work.”
“I guess the answer is yes,” she muttered as she pulled on her boots.
He groaned inwardly. If he was being hard on himself, it was only because the mission was hard. Physically, he was in great shape for keeping her safe, but socially, he was sorely out of practice. He filled his pockets with ammo and weapons, wondering if he could manage to be charming. Probably not. With a sigh, he levitated up to the ceiling to grab his crossbow and quiver.
She glanced up. “Sorry about the hole.”
He dropped back to the ground and attempted a wry smile. “You mean the new moon roof? Maybe it will increase the property value.”
She sat back. “Oh my gosh. Are you attempting humor?” When he winced, she grinned. “You can’t sell this place.”
“I know. I don’t actually own it.” He shook his head. Major fail on the charming issue. “Besides, no one would want it.”
“I would. I think it’s beautiful.”
He scoffed. “It has no plumbing.”
“It has running water.” She pointed at the underground stream. “You’ve seen my house. No electricity, no plumbing. This isn’t so different. I’ll be quite comfortable here.”
His mouth dropped open. Did she think she was going to live here? She must not realize that he was suffering from a severe case of lust. But she had to know that betrothed women didn’t shack up with other men. It would ruin her reputation and drive him insane. How could he live with her without touching her?
Obviously, he needed to somehow forget he was attracted to her. Willpower, he told himself. No unnecessary touching. No more lame attempts at being charming. He would work with her each night, then before dawn, he would teleport her back to her house in Tiger Town. But he better not mention that now, or they would spend the rest of the night arguing instead of working.
He sat on a stool next to her. “Before we get started, I think we should set some ground rules.” When she nodded, he continued, “Rule number one: our partnership is strictly for business. Our mission is to find Han and kill him.”
“I agree.” She slipped her knife back into her boot.
“Rule number two: our method of operation. We’ll start off with the assumption that Han’s underground bunker is somewhere near one of his established camps. I’ll teleport you to each camp, then you will use that supernose of yours to track him down.”
“Agreed.”
“Rule number three: establishing rank. I’m in charge. You will follow my orders without question.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ll obey my orders—”
“Why?”
He frowned. “I am not accustomed to explaining myself.”
She gave him a wry look. “Try.”
“I’m the commanding officer—”
“No. We’re partners. That means we’re equal.”
He gritted his teeth. “We are not equal in battle experience. If we come under attack, the situation could become deadly in less than a second. There will be no time for discussion. Your best bet at survival will be to do precisely what I tell you. Does that explain it?”
“I . . . suppose.”
“Then you agree.”
She scowled at him. “Okay, you big bully.”
He scowled back. “Rule number four: I am not a bully. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, even at the cost of the mission.”
Her eyes widened. “You mean you would lose a chance to kill Han in order to save me?”
“I already have.” When her eyes softened, he stood abruptly and swung the crossbow and quiver over one shoulder. “It’s a simple matter of logic. You deserve to live. Han doesn’t. He can always be killed another day.”
“Right.” She tilted her head, studying him. “One might get the impression that you cared.”
“Only about safety. Are you ready to go?”
“Not quite.” She slipped off the stool. “Rule number five—”
“I’m in charge. I do the rules.”
“Number five,” she repeated, regarding him seriously. “If something happens to me, if I’m mortally wounded, I need you to make sure my body stays intact. Don’t let them hack me to pieces.”