‘Stand up, Smithson. I need to sort you.’ He put the cards away in his pocket, then turned to her.
‘What do you mean?’ Standing as ordered before asking, she glanced over herself.
Bear looked her over, his mouth twisting to one side as he hummed. ‘Do you have anything on under that sweatshirt?’
‘Mind your own business.’
His eyebrows lifted. ‘You need to look ruffled. You know, hot and dishevelled.’
‘Why?’
He leaned close to her face. ‘Because I’ve just devoured you.’
And what might that feel like?‘Erm, I could scruff my hair.’
‘Here, let me.’ His large hands gently pulled some silver tendrils free of her plait, releasing goosebumps along with the hair. She was picking up on a scent from him now. All raw spice and trouble. ‘I do have a question for you.’
‘Oh?’
He lifted the tip of her braid, his gaze deep. ‘I still don’t know who cut your hair, but I know they took the black tip. So why is it black again?’
‘The healer I was sent to as a child said it was a pigment disorder. It doesn’t matter how often my hair is cut, the tips will always blacken within a week.’ A memory hit, making her laugh. ‘A close friend of mine has red hair, and we tried to dye mine the same once, but as soon as it came to washing out the dye, my hair stayed this colour.’ Zana had been more shocked than her. ‘So this is it for me.’
He twiddled the bottom of her plait, then let go. ‘Erm, pull your sleeves up and pinch your cheeks. That should help.’
She did while he tugged off his top and casually slung it over his shoulder, which came as a surprise, and she was so glad he was facing the door, because after that act, she didn’t need to pinch her cheeks to make herself look flushed. The solid muscles in his back alone raised enough heat to warm her from head to toe.
‘Ready?’ There was a slight sultry grin as he glanced her way, reaching for her hand, and Scarlen froze for a second to gather her thoughts.
‘Do we have to hold hands?’
He lowered his arm. ‘Nope, but when we go our separate ways, it will look good if I kiss you.’
Something hard lodged in her throat, causing all sorts of breathing problems.
‘Don’t sweat it, Smithson, I’ll aim for your cheek. It’ll look sweet. Besides, I can see your lip hasn’t healed yet. Kylar got you good, eh?’
Was he pleased about that? She couldn’t be certain. Trying for casual, she nodded, already sure she could feel his lips pressed against her skin, as something was making her tingle all over. Probably rage from Kylar being mentioned.
Bear opened the door, placed his hand in the small of her back as she passed, then walked with her to the guard at the door.
‘Smithson, off to the silent system,’ said Miss Goolan, looking bored.
The achy limbs made themselves known once more as Scarlen sighed on the inside at what was to come. Oh well, she’d had a nice rest.
Bear did as he had promised and lightly placed a kiss on her cheek, making their intimacy look real. It certainly felt real enough, but that would never do. He was her enemy, not friend or fake lover, but to feel someone’s lips brush against her in sucha cold and dismal environment brought life to every fibre of her being, and just for that moment, she wanted to pretend someone did love her.
She watched him put his top back on as he strode away. No words or backward glances, and without her permission she missed his company already.
‘Smithson, move.’
Scarlen remembered Miss Goolan was observing her, so she headed off to face her other enemy: the wheel of fucking doom.
6
Three weeks had passed without any issues occurring, and Bear was starting to think the small amount of time spent with Scarlen wasn’t so bad. She seemed nice enough, and he had found himself looking forward to their card games during family time. There were questions in the eyes of his family, but so far no one had used the words he could see whirling. Perhaps it was time he let them in on his secret. After all, he’d never kept anything from them before. This was different, but still, it niggled at him, making him feel as though he wasn’t part of a team, which he hated.
Growing up, he had been surrounded by a circle of friends, and Raven and Oxley were like brothers. Harlex too, but he couldn’t think of him, because each time he visualised his friend hanging in the courtyard, he wanted to kill every screw in the prison, and that kind of rage would send him straight to Red, where he’d be powerless.
