Chapter 22

Laura's hand trembled slightly as she held the damp wipes. Blood still trickled from the corner of Noah's lip. The smear made his usually polished features look a little unruly. "Does it hurt?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized she sounded too soft. Embarrassed, she turned away—only to hear the quiet chuckle that slipped from his lips. When the motion sensor light flickered on in the foyer, Laura practically sprinted into the storage room to find the first aid kit. By the time she came out, Noah was lounging on the leather couch. His coat was tossed casually over the armrest, and the top two buttons of his white shirt were undone, revealing the curve of his neck. "Come here," he said, reaching out to her. His voice was husky, with that magnetic pull that always made her falter. The moment the alcohol-soaked cotton touched his wound, Noah tilted his head back. Laura gasped in surprise, tipping forward and hitting her elbow against the back of the couch. Her lips