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He wanted to laugh, but he wasn’t entirely stupid. Laughter right now not might not be the best policy.

“I’m happy to know you’re familiar with the Guinness Book of World Records.”

“With what?”

“Ms. Wilde—”

“It’s Bellini.”

“Ms. Bellini. Would you rather I held your nose and stuffed the capsules down your throat?”

Alessandra glared at him. “You could use some lessons in civility, Lieutenant.”

“I’ll be sure and mention that to my commanding officer.”

“You do that.”

She snatched the capsules from his outstretched hand, popped them in her mouth, took the canteen and gulped a drink of water before handing it back. He stowed it in his backpack, then clutched her chin.

“What are you doing?”

“Your lip is puffy.”

“My lip is fine.”

He reached for a small tube, opened it, brought it towards her mouth.

“What is that stuff?”

“It’s just a lip balm. It’ll make you feel better.”

“What if I don’t want…”

Tanner held her still and swiped the ointment over her lips. The balm felt cool and soothing, and she felt almost instant relief.

“Better?”

“No.”

He laughed. She glared.

“How’s your eye fe

el?”

“Wonderful,” she said sweetly. “How’s yours?”

He tilted her head to the side. Her eye and cheek were an amalgam of black, blue and purple. He felt a rush of fury, but he knew better than to let it take over. He had a job to do and the best way to do it was to keep his emotions neutral.

He danced his fingers over the underlying bones. Careful as he was, she winced.

“Hey! Don’t press so hard.”

“I’m checking to see if there are any fractures.”

“There aren’t.”

“No. Luckily, there aren’t.” He picked up an antiseptic pad. “Close your eyes.” She did, and he cleaned her face with slow, steady strokes. “Which of them did this to you?”