The Runner (Part I of the Runner Series)

Chapter 10

"I daresay you are in extremely good hands," Will says from his vantage point, comfortably reclined against a door frame. "My sister is one of the most stylish ladies you are ever likely to meet."

"Your sister." I struggle to make sense of the situation as Jules stuffs the green garment back into her bag and turns back to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me gently toward the window ledge.

She sits me down and begins arranging strands of hair around my face. The familiarity of the contact reminds me of Lara, and my heart hammers heavily in my chest.

"Honestly, your hair is your greatest asset. We are going to work with this. I want to cut it, but don't worry, I won't be taking too much off. We just need to tidy you up and show you some style tricks," Jules twitters ceaselessly as she turns my head this way and that.

"All right." Completely out of my element, I follow her suggestions without argument.

"Will," Jules calls across the room. "Do you really need to be here for this?"

"Fortunately, no. I have some patients to tend to, today." Will straightens and grabs a vest from the hook by the door, shrugging it on over his shoulders before he takes up his satchel and medical case.

"You ladies have fun." He throws me a wink.

I stare helplessly after him while Jules fusses with my hair between her fingers.

"Bye, darling!" Jules doesn't even look over her shoulder as the door slams shut.

"Right," she says, dropping my hair and patting my knee resolutely. "First things first. Let's draw you a bath."

Some time later, my hair dries on my shoulders while I sit on the cold washroom floor. Jules has given me a silk robe to wear and I am worrying the material between my fingers while she prepares a concoction by the sink.

"What is that?" I ask, trying to peer around her.

"Wax," she says lightly.

"Oh." What is that meant for? Must be something to do with candles.

Jules comes to kneel down next to me, a small square of fabric held in her hand. She applies the cloth to the spot above my eyebrow and presses firmly while I flinch from an unexpected heat.

"There is one thing to remember when it comes to maintenance of oneself," she says sombrely.

"What is that?"

All at once she rips the fabric away, tearing my skin painfully. I gasp, my hand flying to my face as surprised tears gather in my eye.

"Beauty is pain. Move your hand, please. We're not through yet."

I fight back the curses pooling in my mouth as she works efficiently, moving from one eyebrow to the other. After an eternity, she declares herself done and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank gods." I make to stand up, my brows feeling aflame.

"No, no. Not just yet. I'm done your face, but we have to clean up some other areas." She has busied herself again with the pot of wax.

"Like what?" I ask slowly, my eyes darting to the open door.

"Underarms, legs," she says indifferently. "And between them."

I clench my thighs together. "Uh uh. No way."

She sighs as she turns to face me. I note that the piece of cloth in her hand is worryingly larger than the one she used on my eyebrows. "It's unpleasant, I know, but we women are strong and can bear it."