Page 4 of Taken By the Convicts
When had a woman ever smiled at him like that? Never.
“You can nodyesandno,and if you have something to say, jump in when you’re ready.” Another smile from her. Hell, he knew at that moment that he’d gladly kill for her. Granted, that’s what landed him on Veenith, but still, he’d kill for her. He had nothing to lose now. He was already on the prison planet. Level 5s never left. He’d work, live, and die here.
She placed two fingers on the inside of his wrist to take his pulse. She felt so soft, and she didn’t fear him.
“I guess I’ll call you Crusher. That’s what Collins called you earlier, though I’m guessing it’s a nickname.”
It was. He scowled to let her know he hated the name. He didn’t want her of all people calling him Crusher. It gave the wrong impression, even if it accurately described him.
“What brings you in here today, Crusher?”
She must have misunderstood his scowl. Crimshaw had taken more than his voice. He’d taken away much of Reece’s dignity. No one here treated him like a man. Instead, they gave him names that weren’t his, called him dumb and worthless. Except her. And Zev. But Zev was the rare exception.
“Crusher is an interesting nickname.” Another smile, relaxed and sweet, and just for him. “I guess given your size and nickname you work in the mines. It’s dangerous work. I hate that The Company makes you and other men go down there. So deep. No light. No escape.”
She shuddered. He didn’t like seeing her scared. Reece placed a finger under her chin and tipped her face up.
Dark brown eyes looked at him dead on. No avoidance. No fear, except for another shudder that went through her. “Sorry. I don’t like small spaces,” she confessed. “The thought of being underground, in a tight, confined space unnerves me.”
He smiled back, hoping to put her at ease.
Her body seemed to relax, and she stepped closer. With two fingers, she traced the scars on his throat. “I’m guessing you can’t talk due to whatever accident left these scars.”
Not an accident, he thought, trying instead to focus on the glorious feel of her skin feathering over his instead of Crimshaw. He wanted to touch her so badly, but he would not scare her.
“You can point if you’d like,” she offered.
His brow lifted.
“To your injury. Or whatever caused you to come in here today.”
He couldn’t help how the corners of his mouth kicked up. If he didn’t indicate his injury, she’d have to give him a full exam. He certainly wouldn’t mind those lovely hands of hers gliding over his entire body, touching more than just his throat.
She laughed, the sweetest sound he’d heard in years, as she realized what he was doing. “You’re going to make me work at this, aren’t you?” She moved to the counter behind her, opened a drawer, and withdrew a datapad. “Here, you can write out what the problem is.”
Smart woman, not falling for his shit. He shook his head at her offer, feeling an inexplicable need to push her a bit, test her limits.
Lovely eyebrows narrowed as she tried to figure him out. “Stubborn or can’t write?” Her brows lifted and her smile faded, almost in horror. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s okay if you can’t read or write. Things happen. But you’re smart, so we’ll figure this out. Together.”
Damn, she was too sweet. She knew nothing about him, and yet she’d given him the benefit of the doubt. This planet, the men here, would destroy her.
She gently manipulated his arms, fingers, and wrists, assessing his mobility. “You seem fully functional.”
He waggled his eyebrows.
She chuckled. “Ah, not what a doctor should say to her patient, I guess. At least around here.”
Goddess above, she was gorgeous and funny. What he wouldn’t do to have her. Not that she’d say yes to him. Women never went for him, not when they saw the scars and learned he couldn’t talk.
She glanced over her shoulder, past the isolation doors. That worried look on her face sobered Reece. Collins was out there. Clearly, she hadn’t forgotten even though he had. Reece knew better than to let himself get distracted. He should be figuring out how to get free of the damn chains. There wasn’t a fucking thing Reece could do to protect her from the med-tech, not while he remained chained to a table solidly bolted to the floor.
“I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way,” she said as she began running her hands over his shoulders and chest and working her way down his abdomen and lower to his legs, looking for obvious signs of injury. He buried the moan that her touch elicited and nearly forgot about the burning itch on his back that was driving him crazy.
“I’ve never had anyone refuse to communicate with me. The guards wouldn’t have let you in unless you had an obvious injury. Maybe I should go find—”
He locked his hand around her arm to keep her from leaving. Collins was out there.
Reece quickly covered her mouth before she could yell for the guards. She smelled so good. Fresh, clean, feminine. He’d love nothing more than to taste her lips right now, but her eyes widened and she started shaking.
