Before I could protest, he turned my hand palm-up with careful fingers, inspecting the scald like it was something precious. His touch was light, deliberate, nothing possessive about it. Nothing like—
I tensed anyway. Couldn’t help it. The memory of Kayden’s grip—hard, unyielding—flashed behind my eyes.
Kartein noticed instantly.
His hands stilled, then slowly, very slowly, withdrew. He stepped back half a pace, giving me space I hadn’t even asked for.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
I swallowed, cheeks burning. “It’s not—you didn’t—I just—”
I suddenly remembered his hands on my thighs the day we arrived. He was nothing like the man teasing me inside the vehicle.
He lifted both palms in a gentle surrender. “No explanation owed. I overstepped
