She hadn’t inspected his body too closely before, either. His chest—tan enough to suggest he spent a good amount of time without a shirt—was sculpted with muscle and covered in thick scars. From fights or battles or the gods knew what. A warrior’s body that he’d had centuries to hone. She tossed the salve to him. “I thought you might want this.” He caught it with one hand, but his eyes remained on her. “I deserved it.” “Doesn’t mean I can’t feel bad.”
