by Janet Miller
He turned to Sulla and Tron. “I suspect you could come back if you wanted.”
Sulla and Tron exchanged glances. “I’ve got another two years on my sentence, and that’s too long to keep Alice here. I want to raise my daughter where there is real sky to live under,” Tron said. “Sulla’s often talked about her home, and I think I’d like to see it.”
Roan shook his hand. “I can understand that.”
He turned to Allan, who stood near Suna. The blond man raised his hand. “Don’t even ask, Roan. I’m ready to leave too.”
Sonja saw something like pain cross his face, but Roan took his friend’s hand and shook it. “I’ll wish you luck, then, not that you’ll need it. What other man could have the luck to attach during a rescue attempt?”
They both laughed, but as Roan turned to leave the room, she noticed their smiles slip and fall.
Sonja followed him out the door and into the corridor. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?”
He stopped and turned to her. “I was waiting for you to talk to me. You’ve been silent since we took out Wilcan.”
Because I love you and don’t know how to tell you. But she needed to say something. “You’ve given up your smuggling.”
“I’m going legitimate. Won’t be quite as much fun, but it will be safer.” He hesitated. “I just wanted to make sure you and the others were all right.”
“And now that you have?”
“I have to go.”
Now was the time to tell him she loved him and make him choose her over the promise he made his family to serve his time and restore his honor.
Sonja opened her mouth. And closed it.
She couldn’t do it. Roan needed to restore his honor, and to do that he’d made a promise to his parents, a promise that any Gaian man would be honor-bound to fulfill, and she wanted to take that away from him.
And there was more. She was making him choose her over his home and over what he intended to accomplish here. Roan had made this sterile prison into his own private world, a place he cared about. He’d set out to right the wrongs of the company that controlled this place, and he was building a business as well.
Roberts would probably honor the bargain he’d made with Roan, but she knew her husband would want to be there to see it through.
In six months he’d return to his home on Gaia, having changed this place for the better.
How could she possibly deny him this accomplishment? She couldn’t make him choose her over all that.
Roan was still watching her. He fiddled with his wristband and removed it. “I guess this is goodbye.” He held it out to her. “I’d ask for mine but it’s clear you lost it earlier.”
“I did?” Sonja looked at her empty wrist and then remembered. She’d taken the band off when impersonating Suna and put it in her pocket. When she’d changed clothes it had been wrapped around the sheath of her knife.
Unthinking, Sonja reached out her hand, and Roan dropped the falcon-engraved band into it. She held it close to her chest. “Later on. Will you come find me?”
Something changed in Roan’s eyes. “Would you really want me to?”
She couldn’t ask him to leave with her but she could do this.
“You asked me if I would stay your wife and I couldn’t answer then. I can now. I care for you, Roan, and I want to be your wife, if not now, then six months from now.”
His eyes lit up but his face stayed wary. “I can’t leave with you.”
“I know that,” she said. “You made a promise, and I know how important that is.” She fingered the band in her hand. “You see, I finally figured it out. I love you, Roan.”
He gave her a real smile. “And I love you. I will seek you out once I’m free.” Before she could do anything, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. When they broke apart Sonja was breathing hard, although not nearly as hard as Roan.
Instead he touched her lips. “See you in six months.” He turned and began walking down the corridor.
Sonja stood there, dazed. She felt perched on a precipice, teetering back and forth. She wanted to walk into the lounge and find a seat next to her sisters.
She wanted to hug them and celebrate them being free.
She also wanted to run after Roan.
Sonja looked at the narrow band she’d given Roan with its engraving of an ever-faithful falcon. Then she stepped into the lounge and found her sisters who were sitting near the men who cared about them. Sulla had her daughter and her husband, and even though Suna said it was too soon for her to love Allan, there was intent interest in the way she looked at him.
But now both Sulla and Suna were staring at her. “And?” Sulla prompted. “What are you going to do?”
It was a day for revelations because a new one hit her, this one harder than the last. Her sisters didn’t need her. They had their men, and Fuller would get them back to their home planet even if she wasn’t there to threaten him.
They loved her, her family loved her, but the truth was, they didn’t need her.
But she knew who loved her and did need her, and suddenly she knew what side of the precipice she wanted to be on. She rushed forward to hug each of them. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye, then,” Suna laughed.
“And go after him,” Sulla added. “Come to the farm when you get a chance.”
“I will,” she called over her shoulder as she sped from the room. Sonja’s feet pounded down the corridor. She managed to catch him before he got to the freighter door.
“We left Wilcan alive.”
Roan turned, surprise in his face. “I know that, but Roberts will take care of him.”
“But he might not find him.” Sonja raised her chin. “And he’s not the only one you’ve crossed. There may be others.”
Roan’s surprise turned to a tentative smile. “Most likely. Don’t worry, though, I can handle whoever comes.”
She shook her head. “Not if they have help, and these people always have help. Also there is Roberts. I think he’s serious now, but you’ll need to watch him to make sure he does what he’s agreed to do.”
“What are you saying, Sonja?”
“I’m saying you need someone at your back. Allan’s leaving with Suna, so you need someone else.”
“I do?” Roan crossed his arms. A look of pure joy crossed his face that he quickly concealed. “Did you have someone in mind?”
“As it happens I do. I figure I still owe you sixteen thousand credits at least for the marriage meet costs. That’s half a year’s salary for a ship’s first mate.”
“First mate?”
Sonja nodded. “My last job. Last I heard my old boss was running a space station instead of a ship, so I’m unemployed now.”
Roan grinned at her. “So you think I need a bodyguard, and you’re applying for the job.”
She shrugged and stepped closer. “I think you need a partner, and as it happens, I’m available. Do I need to list my qualifications?”
He shook his head. “Not necessary. I know what you’re capable of. But I don’t want to hire anyone temporarily.”
“I can live with that.”
Roan stepped forward to caress her face. His hand was smooth and gentle against her skin. “Can you, Sonja?”
She pulled her sheathed knife from her pocket and unwound the marriage band he’d given her from it. Roan’s face lit up as she fastened it around her wrist, and he smiled as she gave the falcon-engraved band back to him. “If you insist, we can make this a lifetime job.”
Roan put on the wristband and then took her into his arms. “Sonja, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.” He kissed her, and for a moment that was all that was necessary. When she could think again, she leaned into him.
“There is only one catch, though.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
Sonja smiled up into the face of the beloved stranger she’d call husband for the rest of her life. “If we’re going to spend any more time on a b
oat, I think you’d better teach me how to swim.”
Roan lifted her into his arms and kissed her again until they both were giddy. “That will be the first thing we do…tomorrow. Today I’m going to take my beautiful wife back to bed in our apartment.”
“I like the sound of that.” She gazed up at him. “I do love you so much.”
Roan smiled. “I know, but I’ve waited a long time to hear you say it.”
“Was it worth it?”
He couldn’t help laughing. “This was one time the waiting was more than worthwhile.”
About the Author
Janet Miller, also known as Cricket Starr, is the author of over twenty-seven titles at Ellora’s Cave, Samhain, Red Sage and New Concepts Publishing. These titles include the 2004 PRISM award-winning Violet Among the Roses, 2011 PRISM award-winning Bad Dog and the Babe, and 2006 EPPIE award-winning All Night Inn. She has two Romantic Times Top Picks and nominees for the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award for Beloved Enemy under her Janet Miller name, and Fangs for the Memories by Cricket Starr.
Janet specializes in futuristic romance under her own name and futuristic, fantasy and paranormal romance under the pen name Cricket Starr. Not all of her books are erotic, but she knows a hot sex scene when she reads or writes it.
To read more about her books visit her website at www.cricketstarr.com, follow her at janetmiller and cricketstarr at Twitter, or Janet Miller at Facebook.
There’s always a loophole. Just don’t let it close around your neck.
Runner
© 2011 Anitra Lynn McLeod
The Fringe, Book 3
Bounty hunter Foster Nash is a ruthless bastard—just ask him. Thanks to an ex-girlfriend who robbed him blind, and another who nearly bit off his trigger finger, he’s not too high on women in general right now.
Desperate for funds to refill his retirement coffers, he jumps at a very lucrative contract: to bring in the doctor who created the Tyaa plague. Except his voluptuous target doesn’t behave like a criminal. Instead of rattling the bars, she accepts her fate with cool, cultured aplomb.
Jynx Brennan toiled for three years to save humanity from a disease she’s now blamed for creating. Since she refuses to use her psi ability as a weapon, it doesn’t help her escape Never-Fail Nash. In a moment of clarity, she decides there’s no point in denying herself a last fling with a living, breathing erotic fantasy.
After he recovers his surprise, Nash indulges the full depth of his physical needs upon her body—often, and to their mutual pleasure. But when it leads to unexpected emotional intimacy, he finds himself willing to risk everything to break a contract that will force him to deliver her to certain execution.
Warning: Contains one bad-ass bounty hunter, a refined lady doctor, a ship with a vile history, a villain with a viler history, and a wide black leather belt, slung low.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Runner:
Foster leaned back from the main console, stretched his arms over his head and groaned. What he wouldn’t give for a solid eight hours of sleep. Not that finding Jynx Brennan had taxed his considerable skills. But damn, he hurt.
He checked his finger and thought of his last package. When he’d been forced to gag her foul mouth, Scary Mary had chomped his right index finger. The wound had looked bad two weeks ago, but it looked a hell of a lot worse now. He shook his head. Another woman, like Laura, his ex-girlfriend. He began to think none of them could be trusted.
Using his unbitten middle finger, he tapped up the audvid to the cell where he’d left his current package. Jynx slept curled up on the top of the bunk. Her short-hacked blonde hair fell across her tear-streaked face, making her seem broken, vulnerable and very pretty. She’d clean up something spectacular.
“You’ll want to do her when you see her,” Roberts had insisted with gleaming eyes.
Foster shook his head. “All I do is deliver for the agreed-upon price.”
Nonetheless, Roberts put the bonus clause in the contract. Roberts wanted Foster to play Jynx Brennan. Roberts wanted him to bed her for sport and earn some extra credits. As pretty as Jynx was, and despite his thoroughly disreputable reputation, that wasn’t one of his contractible skills. He didn’t bed for bonus. That’s why he generally didn’t apprehend females—the temptation was too great.
Foster set his ship, the Damn You, on autopilot, then made his way to the galley. Tossing a premade dinner into the micro, he set the table and ate without tasting. He didn’t need a cook. He liked his solitude. He enjoyed not having to worry about anyone but himself.
Sometimes, when he didn’t have a package onboard, he talked to himself. On those days, he admitted to being lonely, and he thought about getting a dog, but he promptly dropped the idea. He’d have to disable the autofires all over the ship, and that would give any prisoner a clear advantage if they managed to escape the cells. He’d programmed the units to recognize him, but he didn’t want the hassle of reprogramming them to recognize a dog.
“They didn’t recognize Laura as a dog.” He considered. “Well, more so a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
Disgusted that he was talking to himself yet again, he yanked a beer from the pantry, popped the cap and sipped. He checked the kitchen audvid. Jynx hadn’t moved. She had nice legs. Her sandal-clad feet were grungy, but one quick shower, a fresh dress—she rolled onto her back. A long, low growl rumbled through his chest.
“Nice rack.”
Not too big, not too small, her breasts would just about fill his large hands. Lilac motton clung to her body like a drawn-out caress. Her lacy bra pressed against her thin layer of clothing like an inviting whisper.
“Must be exhausted. Poor, evil IWOG doctor on the run for three weeks.” Sipping from his long-necked bottle, he watched her sleep.
Jynx hadn’t gotten far from her lab on Banna. Hell, she could have traded one tumble for a ride off Corona on any trader’s ship.
Knocking back a swallow of beer, he decided she just wasn’t the sort to trade with her body. Regardless of what Roberts said, Jynx was a lady. Foster could tell by the way she spoke and carried herself. She might be an evil doctor, but she was still a lady. An IWOG lady.
“Don’t think I’ve ever met one of those out here.”
Tossing his head back, he polished off his beer and chucked the bottle to recyc. After shutting down the kitchen, he went to his bedroom.
“Not a whole lot of bona fide IWOG ladies on the Fringe.”
Not that her status mattered. He’d deliver his package in a week and be off on another job. Gods knew how he needed the money.
Foster lingered at the audvid in his bedroom as he cleaned his teeth. Would be interesting to make it with an IWOG lady. Just once. Just to see if she was any different from any other woman in the Void.
Frowning, he thought of Laura again. Not a lady by any stretch, but ex-IWOG consumer, like he was. Laura came on like gangbusters, then went suddenly, shockingly shy when he’d tried to close the deal. He wasted weeks on her. Even let her live on the ship for a while. He reprogrammed all the autofires to reassure her, and what had that bitch done? Robbed him blind. Laura swiped a fortune after balling him senseless. While he lay utterly spent, Laura removed everything that wasn’t bolted down on the Damn You, crammed it in a shuttle and took off.
To his utter chagrin, he liquidated all his accounts to buy back his own electronic tricks at auction, and his shuttle, but at triple what he’d paid originally.
Laura, forever after in his mind as “That Bitch”, stripped him so naked he couldn’t believe she’d left him a pair of boxers, let alone a pair of pants.
Because he’d trusted someone, he’d opened himself to a world of hurt. Never in his life had he called a woman a bitch. But Laura’s deliberate playing of him earned her the title of “That Bitch”. If he ever laid eyes on her again, he’d shoot first and ask questions later. Laura made him doubt the motives of half the population by sheer virtue of being female.
Laura reduced him from
a major player with loads of cash to a man with a bare-bones ship and little else. After draining his accounts, he had the Damn You back at full-throttle and his reputation, but that was all. On the brink of retirement, he’d been forced to start all over with only his ship and his rep.
Anger and embarrassment flared. He took a deep breath to push the uncomfortable emotions away. Foster blamed no one but himself. He never should have trusted Laura. She lucked out and caught him at a low, lonely point.
“When I was using the little brain.” He glared down at his pants. “Ain’t putting you in charge again, buddy, no matter how much you sit up and beg.”
He checked the audvid again. Jynx Brennan was small, blonde, delicate and lady-like. She had the softest, sweetest, most honey-rich voice he’d ever heard in his life. She was everything he’d lusted after in his youth on Banna.
“Won’t be fooled again.” He undressed, shut off the audvid and tumbled into bed.
She may learn to live for love…if vengeance doesn’t kill her first.
Unacceptable Risk
© 2011 Jeanette Grey
Plix spends her lonely, gritty life trying to solve the mysteries her father left behind. Armed with a variety of cybernetic enhancements and a talent for getting into places she shouldn’t be, she searches for clues to his murder—and who’s responsible for poisoning her city.
Waking up on a street corner with her brain wiring fried to a crisp, she figures she must have gotten close this time. There’s only one man she trusts to pull her back from the brink: a tuner who can retrieve the evidence hidden deep in the recesses of her mind. A man she dares not let too close to her heart.
When Edison downloads a secret SynDate schematic from Plix’s burnt-out circuitry, he knows with dreadful finality that nothing—not even the fiery kiss he’s been holding back for years—will stop her from pursuing her quest past the point of insanity.
All he can do, as he helps her plan her final mission, is ease her pain, watch her back…and hope one of them doesn’t pay with their lives.