She reached up and ran her hand through his dark tousle, petting and winding it through her fingers. Gratified fingers. She gave a lock a little tug. “So what was this supposed to mean?”

“Shaved for head lice?” he offered, breaking the bleakness as she giggled, no doubt his intent.

“Go on, you did not either have head lice!”

“Not lately. They’re another story, but I have better things to do with my lips right now…’’ He began kissing his way down her body, and she wondered what magic was in his tongue, not just for his kisses and how they seemed to lay trails of cool fire across her skin, but for how, with his words, he seemed to lift stones from her heart.

Her breath caught as his tongue reached the tip of her breast and did exhilarating things there. Sunny had merely pinched her through her dress, and, and blight Sunny for haunting her head like this, now. Dag’s hand drifted up, his thumb caressing her forehead, then he sat up.

“Roll over,” he murmured. “Let give you a back rub. Think I can bring your body and ground into better tune.”

“Do you—if you want—”

“I won’t say, trust me. I will say, try me,” he whispered into her curls. “Try me.”

For a one-handed man, he did this awfully well, she thought muzzily a few minutes later, her face pressed into the pillow. Memory seemed to melt out of her brain altogether. The bed creaked as he moved off it briefly, and she opened one eye, don’t let him get away, but he returned in a moment. A slight gurgle, a cool splash pooling on the inward curve of her back, the scent of chamomile and clover…

“Oh, you got some of that nice oil.” She thought a moment. “When?”

“Seven days ago.”

She muffled a snicker.

“Hey, a patroller should be prepared for any emergency.”

“Is this an emergency?”

“Just give me a bit more time, Spark, and we’ll see…Besides, it’s good for my hand, which tends to get rough. You don’t want hangnails catching in tender places, trust me on that.”

The oil did change the texture of his touch as he worked his way smoothly down to her toes, turned her over, and started back up.

Hand. Soon supplemented with tongue, in very tender and surprising places indeed. His touch was like silk, there, there, there? ah! She jerked in surprise, but eased back. So, this was making love. It was all very nice, but it seemed a bit one-sided.

“Shouldn’t it be your turn?” she asked anxiously.

“Not yet,” he said, rather muffled. “’M pretty happy where I am. And your ground is flowing almost right, now. Let me, let me just…”