And Then It Rained (Sequel to Rain Again; Stand Alone Book) (Completed)

Chapter Eighteen: Her Wound, His Care

The height of embarrassment!

Victor took two steps inside the kitchen, halting as the front of his home slippers collided with a glass shard that tinkled from the contact. Back and forth, he looked at the blasted chicken pieces on their way to getting burned now on the stove, the broken lid with glass shards surrounding it, and Victoria's right foot lifted slightly from the ground with the glass shard still embedded into it and drawing out blood now.

Minutes later, they sat in Victor's dining area. Victoria hissed, and her entire body jerked from the burning of the iodin solution being pressed on the cut into the bottom of her foot.

She sat on the chair while Victor sat on the floor to tend to her injury properly.

"You need to sit still, or I won't be able to do it properly," Victor warned as he discarded the cotton ball he had in his hand and ripped some new.

Victoria remained quiet and concentrated on keeping her whole body stiff and her injured foot lifted toward Victor's advancing hand.

Victor tsked in indignation when she failed to follow his direction of keeping still. With his free hand, he gripped her foot around the anklet to properly disinfect the cut without swinging left and right with a cotton ball.

Victoria gasped at his action.

"That's better now," Victor commented. "However, you should have let me take you to the hospital—"

"I can go by myself tomorrow if I see the cut worsening," she protested.

Victor's lips pursed into a thin line as he pinned her with a long stare that made her squirm a little. For a second, she thought he would continue the argument and pin her with numerous questions as he did to Ellie.

But instead, he said, "Whatever you see fit. Just don't delay if you see it worsening. No one wants septic wounds anywhere on the body. Remember that."

Of course. She was neither his friend, a family, nor anyone he thought anything good of. He would never worry or care for her the way he would for any of his close ones.

In his eyes, she was a threat—not someone to be saved.

"I will," was her subdued reply.

As they remained quiet for some time after that, Victoria's attention intuitively shifted to Victor's hand around her anklet. She couldn't help but focus on his manly yet gentle grip, smooth skin, and warmth.

She bit her bottom lip as he started the bandaging process, unaware of her eyes on him.

Pervert! Pervert! Pervert!

She scolded herself in her mind.

"It's done," he sighed.

"Thanks," she said slowly.

A simple nod and quiet "hmm," were what he gave as replies.

He got up to gather the used cotton, tissues, and plastic packets and went to discard them in the kitchen bin. Coming back suddenly, he shook a fried chicken leg before her face. "What kind of chicken have you made? The skin is so thick it has become completely unbitable! What were you trying to demonstrate by attempting to cook when you clearly can't even boil water and keep yourself safe simultaneously."

Victoria narrowed her eyes. She snapped, following his tone, "Well, I was hungry—"

"Then you could have simply ordered dinner."

"Well, I didn't because it is the end of the month, and I'm trying to save up some money," she softly pressed the sides of her bandaged foot, going a little absentminded.