Page 9 of Baited

“Don’t touch,” he growls.

Okay…a male of few words.

“My name is Izzy.” I put my hand to my chest. “I’m one of the, um…” I search for a suitable term, given he obviously doesn’t want pleasure and I don’t want my heart ripped from my chest, “…servants here. Perhaps I can get you something?”

A creature like this can’t be allowed out on his own, surely? Someone will be coming. Yelii will raise the alarm, she has too.

“Like a bath,” I say without thinking. “Or something to eat.”

The male turns towards me, feathers swishing. I freeze under his dark-eyed gaze. He is absolutely magnificent. Broad shouldered, each abdominal muscle clearly defined, running down to a delicious “v” at his waist, the rest of him poured into apair of tight pants which cling to every part of his hard, defined thighs.

The tattoos from his back continue over the rest of his body, glyph after glyph pouring over the skin of his chest, abdomen, and arms. They continue down past his waistband, and I find myself wondering where they stop.

Don’t touch, Izzy!

He growls. I take a step back involuntarily.

“Food,” he says in his rich as sin voice. “Bath?”

“Yes, you can bathe if you want. In fact, it’s encouraged.” I nod enthusiastically.

Well, he does have a sort of…crust…on him.

He narrows his eyes. “No touching?”

“You’ll be entirely on your own, I promise,” I reply.

It’s something I can virtually guarantee because whatever he did to Yelii, she will ensure no one else will have anything to do with him.

“Bath.” He sighs, some of the tension leaving his body.

“This way.” I point at the rear of the cubicle, past the big bed.

His eyes narrow again, looking suspiciously at the piece of furniture and me.

“And once you’re done, maybe some food? I bet a big guy like you loves to eat, don’t you?” I say, attempting to be coquettish and instead sounding like I’m simple.

He snorts.

“I eat,” he says in that wicked voice which goes right to parts it really shouldn’t be going. After all, he did nearly kill Yelii.

“Okay.” I clap my hands, and he rears back as if I’ve struck him.

For an instant, we stare at each other.

“The bath is through here.” I nearly trip over my own feet in my haste to get to the door and reveal the deep, luxurious sanitary facility.

I stand back as he fills the door, sniffing the air like a predator. Then, in a rush, he’s through the door and stripping off his pants. I shut it quickly. Otherwise I’m going to see far more of this gladiator than I’m ready to see.

“What are you doing?” The Madame is stood in the center of the cubicle, hands on her hips.

“He…Yelii…” I stutter, not quite knowing where to start, but she cuts me off.

“Fresh from the dome, that’s what they sent us. A feral gladiator fresh from the gakking dome.” She spits. “I don’t care how much they’re paying us to get him used to being touched, he’s going back.”

From the sanitary facility, there’s the sound of splashing. Which is both out of place and weirdly comforting, like the creature in there isn’t a killer after all.

“What is he doing?” she says in a loud whisper, leaning in to me.

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