Smoked (The Invincibles 5)

“It looks like an apartment.”

“Do you want to change your clothes?” he asked, setting me on the bed.

“Into what?” I wore the same hospital gown I’d had on since yesterday and a pair of joggers that were at least two sizes too big.

“We’ll see what we can find.”

Two other men, who looked just like Jack, brought in medical equipment like what had been on the plane. “Where did all of this come from?” I asked, standing up to stretch my legs.

“I had it delivered.” Smoked walked over to me. “Siren, sit back down before you fall.”

“Settle yourself, you narky hole. I’m fine.”

“What did you call me?” He was trying so hard not to smile. I laughed.

“You heard me.”

“A narky hole?”

“That’s right.”

He swept me up in his arms like he had so many times in the last few hours and deposited me back on the bed.

“What is your name?” I asked the nurse, who was busy reconnecting my IV.

“Maureen.”

“Nurse Maureen—”

“Just Maureen is fine.”

“Okay, well, I do not need any pain medicine at this time. I feel perfectly fine.”

“You’re lying,” she muttered, looking over at Smoke. “And that one threatened me within an inch of my life if I didn’t take right good care of you.”

“Is it even legal for you to administer that to me?”

She nodded and inserted the liquid from the syringe into the IV port. “Jaysus fecking Christ,” I mumbled when the warm feeling coursed through my arm. “I don’t want this.”

“Excuse us,” Smoke said to the nurse, walking up to the bedside with something in his hand. “This should work to sleep in until we can get you some other clothes.” He waited until after she left the room before helping me out of the hospital gown and then into the shirt that had to belong to him, based on its size.

“Sweatpants on or off?”

“Off.”

He moved the shirt out of his way and tugged the joggers off the lower half of my body.

“You’ll need underwear,” he said, his gaze focused on my bareness.

“You mean knickers? I never wear them.” I looked into his eyes. Two things about that statement surprised me. First, that I remembered I didn’t, and second, that Smoke didn’t.

He pulled the shirt down and then covered me with the bedclothes. “I’ll be right back.”

I looked down at the artwork on the shirt Smoke had put on me. It was the letter T, and it looked like it was on fire. Blazing T, that was what Ms. Wynona had said. Smoke. Siren. My eyes drifted closed as I muttered other words to do with fire. Heat. Sex.

Where was that man? I wondered, again trying to force my eyes to remain open.

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