20 “Thank you,” Madas quietly said. She carefully cleansed the dozens of small cuts on Gril’s wrist and palm before spreading some of the salve on them. Picking up a clean wrap, she tenderly wound it around his hand and wrist. Once she was finished, she packed the items in her bag. Her fingers skimmed the top of the metal case holding the part to his ship. She returned her attention to him. A light layer of moisture clung to his skin from his shower. The towel that he had wrapped around his waist barely covered him. “If you keep staring at me like you are, I won’t let your pleas to care for a few cuts stop me from taking you again,” he warned. She could feel the heat blossom in her cheeks. “Like they were able to stop you in the shower,” she muttered. He reached up and pulled loose t

