After helping Felix Shaw to sit on the bed, Mia Foster knelt behind him and carefully wiped his short hair, her concentration evident in every careful stroke of the towel as she dried each strand.
It was only after she finished that Mia noticed several purple bruises along Felix's back, just below his waist. Felix's skin was so smooth that the marks were strikingly conspicuous.
They were left there protecting her.
Still holding the towel, Mia's hand involuntarily reached out to touch the bruises.
"Does it hurt a lot?" Mia asked, softly caressing them with her fingertips, feeling the raised texture of the marks and filling with both guilt and tenderness.
Felix didn't pull away; instead, he turned his head to look at her, his gaze falling on the bruises on his back, his eyelashes slightly lowered, and his profile sharply defined.
Mia's brow furrowed with evident distress.
