GIOVANNI POV
My gaze lingered on Arya as she worked on my wound, her fingers were steady against my skin.
The lights from the chandelier above cast shadows across her concentrated face, and I found myself fighting a desire that had no place in any moment with her.
The room was silent execpt for the metallic clink of instruments and her soft breathing as she leaned closer.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to focus on anything else. I tried to think of the bastards who'd ambushed them but the warmth of her touch and the way she smelled made my thoughts spiral in dangerous directions.
When she finally stepped back, there was a satisfied nod in her movement, almost proud. She held up two bloodied bullets between her fingers, the evidence of her handiwork.
I glanced down at my torso.
