by JC Cassels
“Quit being so melodramatic,” Ian growled. “Somebody would think you were an actor or something the way you carry on.”
Chase peered through his fingers at him and shook his head. “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I usually commit high treason at least twice a day. Three times on pay day.” He laughed and shook his head. “I’m losing my mind.” He held up his glass. “Crider, hit me again!”
Kendall took the glass from his hand and hauled him to his feet. “No you don’t,” he said. “Never would have figured you for a lightweight, Fossey.”
“I don’t think he’s drunk,” Adin said. “More like verging on panic.”
Kendall set the glass on a side table. “Thank the Maker there’s only one of him. I’d hate to start a stampede.”
Chase reached for his glass, but Ian grabbed a handful of jacket at his shoulder and muscled him toward the door.
“Couldn’t we wait for Dev?” Chase looked hopefully from one to the other.
“Crider, when is General Rameus due to return?” Adin asked.
“General Rameus is scheduled for return tomorrow morning.”
Adin brushed away Kendall’s hand and smoothed the wrinkles from Chase’s jacket. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s now or never. If we have a prayer of this working, we need to do it before Rameus gets back. If we wait for Blade, we’re all likely to end up dead or in prison.”
Chase nodded. “This way, I’m the only one likely to face a firing squad.”
Adin’s mouth twisted in disapproval. “You’re right. He does sound like a whiny actor.”
“But…I’m a Sovran. Don’t I get a say in this?”
Adin and Kendall exchanged a look. Both men shook their heads.
“No.”
“Not really,” Adin said.
“See, we don’t work for you.”
“But, Dev…”
Ian shook his head. “We don’t work for him, either.”
“Technically, he works for me,” Adin smiled.
“And I work for Lord Marin,” Kendall said. “I’m not even supposed to be here.”
“I need another drink.”
Chase started toward the bar, but Kendall redirected him toward the door.
“Later,” Ian said. “You’ve had enough for now. You need to keep a clear head.”
Adin took hold of his arm. “The story is that you requested a Delian to try to contact Lord Marin.”
“Isn’t he in a coma?”
He shrugged. “I’m a telepath.”
Chase frowned. “Does that work?”
“No, but they don’t know that.”
Chase stopped abruptly.
“What now?” Kendall growled.
“You have to let go of me,” Chase said.
Kendall opened his mouth to argue but Chase’s eyes narrowed, cutting him off.
“I’m a Sovran, remember?” he said. “You walk out that door with your hands on me like this and we’re all dead.”
Adin released him with a smile. “There’s a lot more of Blade in him than you thought,” he told Kendall.
A speculative gleam lit Ian’s dark eyes. He released Chase and slowly nodded. “Hot damn, this might actually work.”
Chase shook his head in exasperation. “Your enthusiasm underwhelms me.” He nodded toward the closed door. “Let’s do this. Let’s kidnap an Overlord. I’ve got nothing better to do tonight.”
***
Bo counted off on her fingers. “The underage girl?”
Blade reached for the last sweet roll on the tray. “Which one?”
She slapped it out of his hand. “Are you saying there was more than one?”
He grinned and licked the icing from his fingertips. “I’m saying nothing of the sort,” he said. “Just asking for clarification.”
Sighing, she broke the roll in half and handed him the larger piece. “About a year after we split,” she said. “I saw a report that you had taken some obviously underage girl to your hotel room on Jestoria.”
“Oh, that one.” He nodded and took the roll from her, his eyes sparkled with humor.
“Yes, that one.”
“Nope.” He took a bite of the roll, chewing slowly. His gaze never left her face.
“No?” Her gaze narrowed. “Fine. The countess, then. How about her?”
“Which one?”
“Are you going to ask me that every time?”
“Yep.”
Bo glared at him. “The one who killed her husband.”
He shook his head. “She didn’t kill him. She had him killed. There’s a difference.”
She looked around for something to use as a weapon.
He laughed. “No, Bo,” he said. “I did not have sex with that woman. Nor did I bang the Dorian twins, the heiress to the Pintubo fortune, or the entire graduating class of Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow’s Home For Wayward Girls. Likewise for the Tark brothers, the Liguri hermaphrodite, and the Six Virile Kuretts of Latropi – although that one would have been a neat trick to pull off.”
“The Seven?”
He shook his head. “Not even the first of them.”
She pursed her lips and studied him trying to gauge the truth of his claims. “What about the orgies at Mistress Zara’s Dungeon?”
He nodded. “Now that’s true.”
Bo growled and snatched up her pillow in a stranglehold.
He held up his hands to fend her off. “But that was before I met you. I haven’t been back since, I promise!”
Laughing, he pried the pillow from her fingers and pitched it behind her. He pulled her to him. “I told you, Bo, I haven’t been with anyone else since the day we met. You know how the gossip reporters like to make trouble.” He grinned. “I have never lacked for opportunities to get laid, Bo. I’ve had plenty of offers and invitations, female, male, inter-species. My answer has always been the same. I don’t think my wife would approve.”
“Even after I threw you out and threatened to kill you?”
“Well, I am a stalker,” he said. “I’m going to keep coming after you until you love me back.”
“And now that I love you back?”
He lay down, pulling her with him as he settled comfortably on the pillow he’d rescued from her. “Hell, you couldn’t get rid of me when you told me you hated me. You think I’m going to let you go now that you’ve admitted to loving me?”
She sighed and snuggled up to his side, resting her head on his shoulder. “I think I’m pretty well stuck with you.”
“Disappointed?”
“No.” She smiled and traced the scar on his shoulder. “My Lord. That’s going to take some getting used to.”
He grinned. “Not as much as you think, My Lady.”
Bo grimaced. “Okay, that’s harder to believe.” She shifted, propping herself on his chest. Resting her chin on her hands she studied his face. “Lady what? Fossey?”
His fingers trailed along her shoulder. “I’ve been Blade Devon longer than I ever was Dev Fossey.”
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Roarke?”
He poked his index finger into her armpit. She squealed and giggled.
“No tickling!”
He held up his hands in mock innocence.
She tried to glower at him, and ended up laughing instead.
“But I’d still like to know what my name is. Lady what?”
He rolled onto his side, pulling her into the crook of his arm. Cupping her face in his hand, he kissed her.
“You are and will always be The Barron first. You and I both know that.”
“You’re deflecting again. You don’t know, do you?”
He sighed. “Does it matter?”
“Only because it’s not like you to be indecisive.”
He lowered his head.
“Hey, I’ve seen that look before. You can either tell me ‘State Secrets’ or you can tell me where your head’s at.”
“If I say ‘State Secrets’ you’ll hit
me again.”
“Damn straight.”
He sighed. “Andre is going to insist I go by Daavin Marin.” He shook his head. “That’s not who I am.”
“Of course not,” she said. “And that’s not the name the Commonwealth knows you by.”
He shook his head and met her stare. “It doesn’t feel right,” he said. “I can’t explain it, but it would feel like I was living a lie to call myself Daavin Marin. I’m Andre’s son, but that’s not my name.” He sighed again. “And Andre hates when I call myself Blade Devon.”
“What does he call you?”
“Boy.”
“You’re kidding.”
His lips twitched. “I wish I were. I can’t remember him ever calling me anything but Boy.”
“That’s messed up.” Her brow furrowed. “Does that make me Lady Boy? Sounds like you’re calling a pet.”
“Only if you whistle first.”
“Do it and die,” she said.
He chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Bo brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “You say Daavin Marin feels like a lie. What feels like the truth?”
He considered that for a moment. “Dev,” he said. “Blade Devon.” He nodded slowly. “That’s who I am.”
“Well, My Lord Devon, that’s what we’ll call you.”
“It’s not that easy…”
“You’re the Heir to the House of Marin,” she said. “You’ll make it that easy.”
“You don’t understand…”
She cut him off with a lift of her eyebrow.
“My first name is Bodhile,” she said. “I think I do. Anyone calls you anything different, have them executed.”
“Bo!”
“Kidding!” She grinned. “Kind of.”
Shaking his head, he laughed.
“Thank you,” he said. “After all this time, all the secrets, all the lies, it feels good to have everything out in the open.”
“It really is different, isn’t it?” she said. “It almost feels like I’m cheating on my husband.” Her brow furrowed, and she absently traced the edges of his scar again.
He chuckled.
“What?”
“I always wanted us to have the kind of relationship Ballanshi and Madine have.”
“How so?”
“Close. Tender. Fun. Trusting.”
“Honest?”
“Honest yes,” he said. “To the point of taking it all for granted.”
“You want to take me for granted?”
“Not in a disrespectful or dismissive way,” he said. “I mean… I want us to be so secure, and so sure of each other and of our marriage that there isn’t any more doubt. I don’t want you to wonder whether I’ll be there for you. I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to have an escape plan.” He tenderly brushed her hair away from her face. “I want you to know with every fiber of your being that I am yours and you are mine. I want to be the one constant in your life that you can always trust, no matter what. You can take me for granted, Bo. You made me leave you once. I don’t have the strength to do that again.”
“Blade Devon, you are a hopeless romantic.”
He grinned. “You have no idea.”
He nodded toward the scar she couldn’t seem to stop touching.
“Did you never wonder why I was so set on keeping that damn thing?”
She shook her head. “I wondered, but… You do things for your own reasons.”
Taking her hand in his, he pressed a kiss to her fingertips.
“You branded me,” he said. “That’s when you marked me as yours. I wear that scar for the same reason I wear this ring.” He waggled his finger, drawing attention to his wedding ring. “You shot me to save my life, Bo. You did it ’cause you love me. You always have. Oh, you may not have said the words, but your actions spoke clearly. The proof was always right here by my heart.”
Bo blinked back tears. “If I’d known you were such a sentimental sap, I’d have broken this off years ago.”
“Sure.”
“What kind of idiot gets romantic notions over being shot?”
He shifted, reaching across her. He planted his hand beside her shoulder and braced himself over her.
“Your kind.”
Her toes curled at his low, sexy tone. Her fingers returned to the scar on his chest.
“You are my kind of idiot.”
“I know.”
“You’re my idiot.”
“Always.”
“My Lord,” she whispered.
“My Lady.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Bo scanned the flight controls and glanced out of the windscreen at the distortions of hyperspace. Once she disengaged the hyperdrive she would have only a few precious moments to change her mind and make good her escape from Trisdos airspace. In the copilot’s seat beside her, Blade tugged on the collar of his shirt yet again.
“What’s wrong?” she said. “You keep pulling on that, you’re going to break the fasteners.”
His lips twisted. “Clothes feel weird,” he said. “I guess I got used to running around naked aboard ship.” He shook his head. “I’m just glad that whatever bugs were in Sundance’s enviro systems got worked out. The cold isn’t as flattering to me as it is to you.”
She smiled. “Here I was thinking you were nervous about going back to Trisdos.”
The warmth in his gaze sent a rush of heat to her core. “Let’s just say I’d rather be going just about anywhere else, preferably someplace warm with clothing optional.”
“So does this mean that we can keep going?”
“Afraid not. I’m kind of attached to Chase and the boy is growing on me. It wouldn’t be good manners to leave them to whatever General Rameus has in mind for them.”
“In that case…” Bo raised shields and dropped out of hyperspace. As soon as realspace settled around them, she glanced over the readouts and verified her position. “Welcome to Trisdos,” she said. “When planetary security challenges us, I’ll let you handle the particulars. Anything I say will only get us blown up quicker.”
“Good thinking,” he said. “It’s hard to argue with the Sovran Hand,” he intoned dramatically. He waggled his fingers at her for effect.
Bo lifted an eyebrow. “Sovran Hand? Really?”
“What? Too much?”
Bo shrugged.
“Well, I’ve got to call it something.”
“You’re starting to sound like your brother,” she sighed.
He grinned and keyed the communications array. “I’d be lying if I said I weren’t enjoying this a little,” he said. “It’s nice to let someone else be Daavin Marin for a change. All those years of Chase giving me grief about growing up and facing my responsibilities, and now he gets a taste of exactly how much responsibility I’ve been carrying. You’ll forgive me if I gloat just a little.”
“I’m sorry, are we here to rescue them, or rub Chase’s nose in it? Because I thought we were here to rescue them.”
“I plan on doing both.” His amusement faded. “How do you feel about an armed escort?”
“Depends. In flight or groundside?”
“Both,” he said. “We’ve got incoming. It’s a small tactical escort. They’re sending a flight path. We are instructed not to deviate from it.”
Bo nodded. “That’s S.O.P. for diplomatic envoys transporting ruling nobility or Sovrans. As long as they don’t deviate, I’m not worried.” Her lips twitched. “What’s got you so edgy? This can’t be the first time you’ve flown into Trisdos with all flags flying.”
“It’s not,” he said. “It’s just the first time I’ve ever been on the flight deck for it. I’m usually…” He trailed off and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “You know, in the back somewhere, sleeping it off. I really hate coming to Trisdos.”
“I’ll tell you what, you let me worry about any potential ambushes or attacks on approach. Once we make planetfall, I’ll gladly relinquish the
paranoia to you.”
He grinned. “You’d do that for me? You do love me.”
“Don’t let it get around.”
Despite her glib assurances, Bo kept a close watch on the escort craft as they took up standard formation around Sundance.
A typical spacer, her anxiety didn’t escalate until her ship’s landing gear touched down in the secure docking bay in the diplomatic sector of Trisdos’s main spaceport. Groundside was where she felt most vulnerable and exposed. Blade, on the other hand, calmed noticeably and an air of confidence settled over him. This was his arena.
He was welcome to it.
Blade popped his g-locks and moved through the ship, humming to himself as he prepped for the next phase of this insane suicide mission he’d dragged her into.
She secured the con, assuring herself that all of her ship’s systems were in order. Her attention drifted back to the external sensors sweeping the docking bay and immediate area.
“Looks like our groundside security has assembled,” she called over her shoulder.
Blade’s footsteps clattered against the stair treads as he climbed back up to the flight deck. “Escort detail or a tactical assault team?”
Her lips twisted. “Aside from the gunships and snipers, it looks like a standard escort detail.” Bo keyed up the display. “I don’t see any armored personnel carriers or light artillery.”
She almost wished there had been. It would have been all the excuse she needed to take off and fly the gauntlet out of Trisdos airspace.
Leaning over her, he studied the visuals, making his own evaluations. As though he could read her thoughts, he squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.
“I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t think I could keep you safe, Bo.”
She nodded and switched off the sensor readout. “I know.” She covered his hand with her own. “And if I didn’t think so, too, I never would have come. I trust you, Dev.” She glanced up at him. “I still don’t have to like it.”
She pushed herself out of her seat and planted herself in front of him. She inspected him from head to toe. He’d opted for the same black suit he’d bought on Chiron, with its crisp white shirt. Reaching up, she unfastened his collar and spread it open just enough to bare the top of his collarbone.