Meet the Author:
Jess has been making up stories ever since she can remember. Though her messy handwriting made it hard for anyone else to read them, she wasn’t deterred and now she gets to make up stories for a living. She loves loud music, a good book on a rainy day, and probably spends too much time watching too many TV shows. Jess lives in regional Victoria, Australia, with her very supportive husband, three daughters, one hyper-active border collie dog, one bunny with anger management issues, and one cat who thinks he’s one of the kids.
About the Book:
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“You’ll excuse me if I tell you to get the freck off my ship before your father can punish me yet again for all that crazy monkey sex we never had.”
She yanked her arm out of his grip, grabbed her bag, and then tossed it up the ramp. It smacked into the pallet and then plonked to the floor.
“You were right. This is my problem. It’s my fault you’re getting sent on an impossible raid. I’m coming whether you like it or not. I refuse to have your capture or death on my conscious.”
Though he wanted to hate her, didn’t want anything to do with her and all that she had going on—because screw him sideways if she didn’t look smokin’ hot—his respect for her dragged up a notch at her determination to put things right.
“Cami.” She grimaced. “Only my father calls me Camille.”
“Cami,” he amended, ignoring the way it felt oh-yeah good rolling off his tongue. “As much as I appreciate you wanting to fix this, I already narrowly avoided getting stabbed in the balls by your father once. What do you think is going to happen when he finds out you came along on this little trip he probably doesn’t expect me to return from?” Because he’d had time to think about things in the last few hours, and it seemed pretty likely Blackstone was probably banking on him either being reckless and desperate enough that he made a mistake and got caught by the authorities. Or he picked the wrong person to steal from and ended up dead. Either way, Blackstone had his problem taken care of without being directly responsible.
Cami didn’t look the least bit deterred by what he thought was a tidy bit of logic. “Then he’ll have a vested interest to make sure you come back, won’t he?”
Good god-loving christ. The woman was diabolical. Maybe even more so than her father.
“You’re offering to be my shield?”
She nodded, contemplation edging into her features. “If you want to look at it like that, then sure, I’ll be your shield.”
Bloody hell. Was he really considering this? No. He couldn’t. Too much was at stake. If something happened to her, the Reidar wouldn’t be Rian’s and his biggest problem any longer. Blackstone had far reach throughout the galaxy, a way more effective network than the IPC or UAFA had. They would be dead…well maybe not Rian. But he definitely wouldn’t survive a sustained campaigned against his life by Blackstone. And Rian wouldn’t have the safety of the Belt to retreat to any longer when things were getting hot with the Reidar.
“Fine, I can see your point.” A smile transformed her features as he conceded that much, making his next breath a little tight. Leaving him with the weird urge to do anything and everything day after day just to see that smile. He shook his head, both at her and himself. “But I still can’t let you come. There’s much more at stake here than just my life. Things I can’t explain to you. This isn’t just my risk to take.”
She took a step back, leaving a low wave of relief running through him. Good, she’d seen reason.
Except then an apology seemed to edge into her expression. “I thought you might refuse, which is why I had a backup plan. Sorry, you’re probably going to hate me, and honestly, this is the lowest I’ve ever sunk. But I can’t let you get killed.”
Oh freck. That sounded ominous. “What are you—”
He heard a snap, then felt a light weight around his wrist. By the time he looked down, Cami had secured the
other half of the cuff locked around his left wrist to her own arm.
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