His chest swelled with – pride? Why the hell he felt that way was beyond him, but it was there none the less. He was actually proud that this little vixen had that much fight in her. She spun and bounced around as though it were completely natural. She didn’t seem the least bit phased, her face still that calm mask she wore, expect for a slight furrow of concentration between her brows.
Bastian kept score of the hits, and she was far outnumbering the other woman. He couldn’t remember the other fighter’s name, but he really didn’t care anymore. It was clear who the champion here was. It was too bad she wasn’t actually there to fight. The thought of her entering one of his infamous fights didn’t sit well with him anyway. For some odd reason, he didn’t want everyone watching the way she moved, the way he was right now.
He had the sudden urge to jump in there, and take her in his arms, releasing her hair from that tight knot, and seeing what she was like when she really just let go. Or did she ever? Something told him probably not. She was the epitome of reserved calm. There weren’t many people like that in this world. It just made him want to ruffle her feathers even more.
The trainer finally blew the whistle three times, ending the fight. Looking to Bastian, he took both women to the middle, holding each of their arms. To no one’s surprise, he raised Pixie’s hand as the victor. Bastian gave him a subtle nod, before he released them both. He gave Pixie a pat on the back, murmuring something to her, before turning to exit the ring. Pixie walked toward Bastian, revealing nothing in those blue eyes. Pulling off the gloves and helmet, she simply lifted an eyebrow as she leaned over the ropes looking down at him.
“Well?” she asked.
He loved her voice. Taking a moment to appreciate the soft, smooth sound of it, he smiled up at her with genuine admiration. “I’m impressed,” he finally said.
She nodded once, as though she’d expected just that. God she was a puzzle to him, one that he couldn’t wait to figure out. Her skills were beyond what he’d expected. Everything came so naturally to her. Which begged the question, just who was Pixie? She wasn’t the usual sort that came through here. Nor did she come across as the type of girl who would have let herself be caught by a head hunter. So what was the deal with her and her “owners”?
One thing was for certain, he was going to have to keep a close eye on his new guests.
CHAPTER THREE
Why did she care if he was impressed or not? She didn’t, of course. She just wanted to make sure he knew she wasn’t as helpless as most people seemed to think. That was it. Pixie could handle herself, and she didn’t want anyone – especially someone like Bastian Black – thinking otherwise.
The fight had actually been quite easy. The other girl clearly wasn’t a real fighter, her skill level far beneath what it should be. That wasn’t really a surprise, considering they’d just been taking people off the streets for these fights. As far as Pixie was concerned, Bastian was just as bad as Douglas Hatcher. Sure, he didn’t pump them full of experimental drugs in order to enhance their abilities like the General had with Tyler, but they still took people from their homes and forced them to do things they didn’t want to.
Bastian led her out of the practice area and back into the hall. This time he didn’t hold onto her arm, for which she was grateful. Pixie wasn’t use to being handled by anyone, least of all men. Following behind him, they didn’t speak as he maneuvered his way through the underground passages, finally stopping outside a room. Without a word, he opened the door, motioning her inside.
Pixie eyed him, pausing just outside, before finally walking past him. She stopped, surveying her surroundings with surprise. The room was similar to the one Garrett and Missy were sharing, although this one was slightly smaller. Another door decorated a wall. She wasn’t sure what it led to, but decided she’d investigate when she was alone.
She did a slow turn, finally meeting his gaze, knowing Bastian was watching her closely the entire time.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
She debated about whether or not to answer him. “This doesn’t really seem like a cell,” she finally said, keeping her face blank.
He smirked slightly. “That’s because it’s not.”
“So why am I here?”
“I decided to keep you closer to me than the other fighters.”
She couldn’t stop the surprise from flitting across her face. His eyes went to the door she had wondered about, and without any words, she knew this led to his own room. He was keeping her as close as possible, it would seem, and that didn’t bode well for her. He stood there, watching her, probably waiting for her to ask why he was keeping her here, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. There was no way she’d let him see the unease in the pit of her stomach.
Nor did she need to ask why, because some part of her knew. Whether he was aware of just what they were doing there or not, something had set off his warning bells and made him suspicious of her. She needed to tell the others quickly. Now it was just a matter of getting out of this room on her own. Something she didn’t think would be as easy as it sounded.
He watched her for only a moment more, their eyes meeting in some silent exchange, before he turned and left her standing there in the middle of the room. Like a trapped animal, Pixie looked at the four walls caging her in and wondered what her next move would be. She’d gotten herself out of far worse situations than this. Although something told her she’d never faced a foe quite like Sebastian Black before now.
***
Blinking, Pixie waited for her eyes to adjust to the light, taking a moment to remember just where she was. At some point she must have fallen asleep, although she couldn’t remember even lying down on the bed to begin with. After searching the room for any bugs or cameras, she must have finally succumbed to her exhaustion after travelling for so many days.
Sitting up slowly, her eyes hesitated on the neatly folded clothes that sat on the corner of the bed. She immediately looked around, as though she’d catch Bastian in the act. There was no question in her mind it was he that had left them there. For whatever reason, Pixie doubted he’d let anyone else in here. Perhaps it was the possessive way he watched her, or knowing that keeping her here wasn’t the norm, but her gut told her he wouldn’t want any of the other guards walking in on her.
Looking down at the rumpled covers where she’d just been sleeping, her head slowly turned back to the clothes thoughtfully. He’d snuck in here while she slept. Did he stay to watch her? She wondered. Why didn’t the thought of that creep her out the way it should? Instead it was as though knowing he’d been here with her lit some sort of fire within her veins.
Shaking her head in disgust, she stood and held up each piece to see what he’d left. They were just plain tights and a black tank top. Workout clothes, she guessed. Suited her just fine. Pixie wasn’t one to wear colourful, pretty clothes anyway. A small scrap of red fell to the ground as she picked up the pants. Reaching for them, she lifted a lace thong, her mouth dropping at the sight of it.
Really? Was this some sort of joke? He’d picked out underwear for her? A blush stole across her cheeks, and she was infinitely grateful that no one else was around to witness her mortification. Why a guy leaving her under garments was so humiliating, she wasn’t sure, but it made her not want to wear them.
Leaving the offending apparel on the corner of the bed, Pixie headed into the small bathroom, intent on having a nice, long shower. The fact that this underground network had electricity shocked her, but what it also meant was that she could finally have a really hot shower. It was just the thing to help ease her anxiety over being locked up the way she was.
Turning on the showerhead, she turned to lock the door, just to be safe. She didn’t know what time it was, or when Bastian had been there, but she wasn’t taking any chances that he might return while she was naked and vulnerable. Stepping into the rising steam, she sighed loudly as the raining water hit her back, heating her to the bone. God, it was heaven.
Taking the tie out of her hair, she let the water soak it through, feeling the weight of it grow heavier as it straightened down her back., hitting just above her butt. Spending more time than she probably should have in there, she finally stepped back out onto the cool tile floor, her fingers wrinkly, and her skin a deep pink.
Wiping off the mirror, she looked at her reflection, her eyes taking in the woman staring back at her. She looked paler than normal, tired, despite the fact that she’d slept for a bit already. Her skin was smooth and unmarred by wrinkles. She poked at the area around her mouth, wondering if that was because she rarely smiled these days.
Sighing, she pulled on the sports bar she’d already worn, before adding the tank top over it. Then she simply pulled on the tights, forgoing any underwear. If she needed to go commando in order to avoid wearing lingerie given to her by Bastian, then so be it. It made her feel more comfortable anyway.
Combing through the long strands of her hair, she swept it off her face, twisting the locks into her usual bun, securing it tightly to her head. There were puffy circles beneath her pale eyes, she now noticed. She looked like shit, in her opinion. Not that there was much she could do about it now.
With another sigh, she exited the bathroom, ready to wait for someone to come and get her. However long that might take. Except as soon as she stepped foot into the bedroom, she froze, unable to look away from the man that stood there. He stared back, his blue eyes darker than usual, a visible tick in his jaw, making her think he was either pissed or frustrated. She wasn’t sure which, but he definitely seemed to be struggling for some kind of control.
Without speaking, he glanced down beside him, and then back at her with raised brows, his eyes questioning. She looked to where he’d done, noticing his gaze had found the panties still lying there, and her face flamed. When she looked back at him, all she could manage was a small shrug. She wasn’t going to explain herself to him. She didn’t need to. If she didn’t want to wear his stupid thong, that was her decision.
Except, then his eyes lowered down her body, stopping at the apex of her thighs, and she instantly regretted her rash decision. While having him picture her wearing his thong was embarrassing, him knowing that she was naked instead, and picturing that instead was even worse.
His nose flared as he inhaled deeply. His gaze moved back up to meet her own, and she almost had to step back at the blatant hunger there. He’s a despicable man, her inner voice reminded her. She shouldn’t be feeling her breath increase, or her stomach tighten when faced with his obvious desire. It was hard to ignore, especially since she’d never felt such a reaction to a man before in her life. Wasn’t it just predictable that when she finally did, it was because of someone she could never be with? Life just sucked for her that way.
Still, he watched her, the silence between them growing thicker as the seconds ticked by. Even if she’d wanted to say something, she didn’t think she’d have the voice to do so. Her mouth and throat were suddenly as dry as the desert. The best she could manage was to look away from him, hoping that the disconnect would allow each of them to regain some of their senses.
Bastian struggled to fight every instinct in his body that was screaming for him to swallow up the space between them, and pull her close to him. He couldn’t stop his eyes from raking her lithe body, especially now that he knew there was nothing under the black tights that clung to her every curve. She was just so beautiful, it hurt to look at her. Everything about Pixie seemed fragile, and Bastian was anything but.
He would crush her, he knew. Not physically – no, he would never to anything to actually hurt her that way. But emotionally, yes. He just wasn’t the sort of man who should – or could – get involved with someone as lovely as Pixie. Even though she was a fighter herself, there was just something about her that screamed, not for you, Bastian.
He wasn’t good enough for a girl with that much depth in the ocean blue of her eyes. He cleared his throat, breaking the spell that had fallen over them the second she’d stepped out of the bathroom.
“I’ve brought you some food, and then you’ll be taken to the practice area,” he told her.
Her eyes looked up from where they’d focused on the floor, confusion written in them. “Why do I need to go to the practice area?” she asked.
God, her voice sent chills down his spine. It was the kind of smooth, gentle tone that would ease a man’s soul at the end of a hard day. What would she sound like in the throes of passion? He wondered. Hardening his jaw, he instantly tossed those thoughts from his mind.
“I thought you might like an opportunity to get out of this room,” he explained. “But if you’d rather stay here…” His hands splayed out, gesturing to the walls surrounding them in a silent question.
She straightened, her eyes instantly changing from confusion to determination. “Of course I want out,” she replied. “Let me just put my shoes back on.”