Chapter 12
TWELVE
Jarran looked around in distaste. “This room hurts my eyes.”
He was right. The suite was absurd. Evie stood in the doorway and stared. Behind her, the guard who’d escorted them from the cell pulled the door shut and she heard the lock engage with a solid, definitive click.
It was enormous and sumptuously appointed.
Plush furniture upholstered in deep jewel-toned fabric was placed around the central room.
In an alcove, a bed that could have fit four people was draped in layers of silky pillows and sheets.
She saw a wardrobe in there too, with divided sections for a Virilian male and a human woman.
The ceilings were high and the lighting was warm and diffused.
Against another wall, tucked into a nook, sat a top-of-the-line meal replication unit.
A bathroom opened off to the left, visible through an archway.
She could see a glass tub large enough to swim in, with polished fixtures and a stack of thick towels.
To say the suite was sensory overload, after being locked in a bare cell, was an understatement.
But she knew what this was. Durik had planned this switch to pure comfort as a reward for future compliance. They could very easily find themselves back in the cell.
“Well,” Evie said. “It’s a step up from the cell.”
The guard had removed Jarran’s mag-cuffs before locking them in. He rubbed his wrists absently, where the skin was chafed. “We still can’t leave.”
“That’s true.” She bit her lip and looked around. “We need to find a way out of here.”
Jarran’s gaze sharpened. “We’ll have to search every corner of this strange…space.”
It was doubtful they’d find an escape. Durik had likely made sure the suite was as sealed off as the cell they’d been in.
“All we can do is try. In the meantime, let’s get something to eat.
” Evie glanced at Jarran’s blood-stained, torn jumpsuit.
Her heart squeezed as she saw there was still soil on the knees of his pants where he’d been working in the agricultural bay.
“And get into some clean clothes. It looks like there’s a wardrobe in the sleeping area. ”
Jarran looked down at his soiled outfit. “I am filthy.”
“You and me both.” But more so him. “You need to bathe more than I do.” She glanced inside the bathroom area and spied a tubular steam shower next to the bathtub.
That would be quicker and easier than a long, leisurely soak, although that would feel good after spending so much time on the hard floor.
“I’ll figure out the food replicator while you’re in there. ”
Jarran followed her gaze into the bathroom. His brow furrowed. “Do you know how to use that apparatus?” He waved a hand in the general direction of the steam shower.
“What did you use to clean yourself on the Korath-7?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I didn’t. There was a decontamination unit in the agricultural bay.”
“Ah. Well, don’t worry,” Evie said. “I’ll show you how to use it. But first, new clothes.”
She crossed into the bedroom nook and opened the wardrobe doors.
Sure enough, it was fully stocked with a variety of clothing.
Half was clearly for him, the other half for her.
She chose a set of simple, loose-fitting pants and the first shirt her hand landed on.
If she were to bet, all these clothes would fit them perfectly.
He accepted the garments solemnly. “You’re sure I should wear these?”
“They’re a lot better than this filthy ensemble.” She waved a hand over his form. “Just dump them in the disposal that’s in there.” She pointed at a bin in the corner of the bathroom. “Here, let me show you how to turn on the steam shower.”
After a quick tutorial, she left him to use the shower, which Jarran still seemed unsure about, and went about trying to figure out the food replicator.
It was the most over-the-top, high-end model she’d ever seen.
She managed to navigate through the menus to the universal language and had the unit generate a few simple dishes that she knew wouldn’t upset Jarran’s digestion or her own.
By the time he emerged from the bathroom, she’d eaten enough to cure the worst of her hunger. Then her hunger took a different turn.
He was holding the shirt, not wearing it. “This does not fit.”
She’d not seen his body like this before. In the agricultural bay, he’d been covered from head to foot in sturdy patient-issued clothing. She allowed herself a quick glance at the shirtless Jarran and couldn’t look away. “Um. I’m pretty sure it does.”
Thick, expansive muscle wrapped around strong bones, rippling as he held up the new shirt. Sifter tattoos marked his arms and torso. Fuck, his body was incredible. Get a grip, Evie. He wasn’t her patient anymore, she reminded herself. She wasn’t even an employee of the Baylans.
Still. This was exactly why she’d quit.
“It’s tight,” he said. “I’m used to shirts like my old one. I can move better in them.”
She crossed to him and waved a hand. “Put it on and we’ll see.”
He slipped the shirt over his head. The fabric was dark and well made, with a clean cut that sat close to the body. It accentuated his muscles. “Sorry, but that’s exactly how it’s supposed to fit.”
He scowled. “I like the pants.” The fabric of the looser-fitting pants also fit him well and looked expensive.
Standing there, in a room full of finery, he could have walked out of a warlord’s gala.
That made sense, because before the memory loss and being committed to Korath-7, he had attended events just like that.
The contrast between this male and the one she’d met in the agricultural bay was striking and disorienting.
“Try some food.” She turned away to get some breathing room and found some clothing of her own.
There were many options, from comfortable and soft to skimpy and obscene.
She opted for simple clothes. She grabbed a shirt and pants and shut herself in the bathroom.
She needed ten damn minutes of not looking at him.
When she came back out, he was prowling the sitting area. Some of the food had been eaten. Not much, though. “What are you doing?”
“Inspecting,” he said shortly. “There must be a hidden exit here somewhere.”
“If there is, we’ll find it,” Evie said gently. “Jarran, you need to eat. And you need to rest. You and I have been through a lot. We’re not going to escape this ship if our bodies are depleted.”
He scowled, but nodded. “You’re right. I just…do not like small spaces. It makes me feel trapped.”
Evie declined to mention that nothing about this suite was small, but compared to the agricultural bay, most spaces would seem tiny. “Did you have a hard time in your room at night?”
“No. I was tired after my shifts,” he replied. “I knew my routine. I knew I wouldn’t be trapped in there forever. The next day, Left and Right would take me back to my plants.”
She raised a brow. “Left and Right?”
One corner of his mouth quirked up. “That’s what I called the guards. I didn’t know their names.”
Evie chuckled. “You never cease to surprise me, Jarran.”
His gaze moved warmly over her. “I hope you don’t mind surprises, then.”
“Not from you,” she said softly. Her gaze moved, inexorably, to the bed. The one bed. The one very large, very obvious bed.
“I can sleep on the floor,” he said.
“No.”
“Evie—”
“There’s no reason for you to sleep on a floor when there’s a bed this size. We’re adults.” She was aware that her voice sounded overly reasonable, like she was giving a professional presentation about bed-sharing logistics. “It’s fine. We’ll just sleep. There’s more than enough room.”
He looked at her. She sent him a too-cheerful smile intended to hide the roiling nerves and arousal squirming around her insides. Neither of them acknowledged the fact that every recent time they’d been in close proximity, they’d wound up kissing.
“Okay,” he said.
“Okay,” she said.
Great. Settled. Two adults, one bed, zero problems. She was going to be fine.