He looked down at himself and laughed softly. ‘‘My dark side dresses better than I do.’’ He stood up<br />and reached for clothes folded neatly on a table to the side as he loosened the tie on his robe. He hesitated, smiled, and raised his<br />eyebrows. ‘‘If you don’t mind, Claire . . . ?’’<br />‘‘Oh. Sorry.’’ Claire turned her back. She didn’t like turning her back on him, even with the cell door locked. He was better<br />behaved when he knew she was watching. She focused on the faint, distorted image of his reflection on the TV screen as he shed<br />the dressing gown and began to pull on his clothing. She couldn’t see much, except that he was very pale all over. Once she was<br />sure his pants were up, she glanced behind her. He had his back to her, and she couldn’t help but compare him with the only other<br />man she’d really studied half-naked. Shane was broad, strong, solid. Myrnin looked fragile, but his muscles moved like cables<br />under that pale skin—far stronger than Shane’s, she knew.<br />Myrnin turned as he buttoned his shirt. ‘‘It’s been a while since a pretty girl looked at me with such interest,’’ he said. She looked<br />away, feeling the blush work its heat up through her neck and onto her cheeks. ‘‘It’s all right, Claire. I’m not offended.