"You tend a wound nearly as well as you dance." Her blue-gray gaze flicked up to his, wide with surprise. "I wasn't sure if you recognized me from the ball." This was intimate, her face so close to his. He naked and she with the upper slopes of her breasts uncovered. He felt hazy with desperate temptation. He could smell her, above the scent of his own blood- a faint flower scent. Not cedarwood, thank God. "You're hard to forget," he murmured."