Maeve tried to stand, but her body refused her. The moment she lifted herself, sharp pain shot through her legs. Her feet were swollen, red, and trembling from an entire day of walking without a single moment of rest.
Her eyes drifted to the bed.
Was that… Lucifurr?
Did Clayton find him?
But how?
"Don't bother trying to stand with feet like that."
Maeve turned at the voice.
Clayton stood there in the doorway, his broad shoulders shadowing the light behind him. In his hands was a black bowl filled with warm water and a soft towel. Hair falling to his face and the way he tilted his head to push it back made her stomach churn.
Clayton walked toward her with calm, deliberate steps, like he had all the time in the world for her.
He knelt on one knee, placing the bowl on the floor. Then he gently lifted her foot from the ground and rested it on his thigh.
