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Giselle’s breath caught her in her throat.

“Please, Jerred,” she whispered. “Don’t kill her. She doesn’t deserve to die, and I don’t think that Josiah cares about her at all.”

She knew she was right about that. As far she could tell, Josiah didn’t care about anyone. He wasn’t human—or at least he wasn’t human where it counted.

“Shut up,” Jerred said roughly. “You aren’t part of this. I don’t care what a little whore like you thinks.”

His words stung her at first. Then she thought back to his comment early, about making friends with Josiah. Was he trying to protect her? Or simply reverting to form…

She sat back, trying to think what to do next. Before she came up with anything, one of the guards came up behind Jerred and hit him over the head with the butt of his blaster. He dropped like a stone, and Celia scrambled away, clutching at her throat and screaming. A line of crimson blood dripped down between her fingers.

Josiah sat through it all, a smile on his face, his arm curled around her rigidly. After a moment he turned to her and spoke.

“Celia will be fine,” he said softly. “Jerred is a weak man. He never intended to hurt her. I know him well enough to predict that. You have a choice to make now.”

She nodded slowly, watching two men roughly lift Jerred’s body and haul him out the door. Where were they taking him? Would they hurt him?

“Are you listening to me?” Josiah asked softly. “I really think that you should.

You’ll only have one opportunity to make this choice and I’d hate for you to miss it.”

She swallowed and forced herself to pay full attention to what he said.

“Now you get to decide where your loyalties lay,” he said smoothly. “You can either choose to stay with Jerred or you can choose to join me.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. “How would I join him?”

“In my prison cells,” he said. “I haven’t decided what to do with him quite yet.

Normally I would set an example of man who betrayed me. It’s good for business. On the other hand, I’ve known Jerred for a long time and we’ve had many mutually profitable business dealings with each other. I can’t help but wonder whether I should let sentiment enter my decision-making process.”

She saw nothing resembling sentiment in his face. He was inhuman—she had more than enough proof of that. Poor Celia still clutched her bleeding throat as the women fluttered around her, trying to help.

“What about her?’ she asked softly, nodding toward the woman. “Do you care about her?”

“No,” Josiah said, cocking his head thoughtfully. “Not particularly. I mean her no ill will.”

She thought for a moment, desperately considering her options. She’d told herself a thousand times that she hated Jerred, but seeing him attacked like that tore at her inside. She cared about him for some reason. There was no point in denying it to herself.

“What if I decide to stay with you?” she asked softly. “What do you intend to do with me?”

“Well, I suppose I’d discover what it is about you that intrigued Jerred so,” he said softly, running one finger up along her cheek.

“He seems to genuinely care about you,” he said. “He’s lying when he says he’s taken other companions. He’s never done anything like that before, and I assure you that I make it my business to know such things. There’s something different about you.”

She closed her eyes, and then nodded. His fingers cupped her chin, a gesture that should have been comforting. But he gripped her just a little bit too tight, with too much calculation—she had a sudden flash of insight. He wasn’t interested in her sexually. He played with her, just a he’d played with Jerred over dinner. Something else drove this man.

“What is it you really want?” she asked suddenly, opening her eyes.

He seemed surprised, and then a look of utter enchantment came across his face.

“Aren’t you a cute little thing?” he said slowly. “Maybe Jerred isn’t such a fool after all. I’m still thinking about what to do with you,” he continued. “Why don’t you run along and get some rest? We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

“I’m not tired,” she replied. “I’ve only been up for a few hours. The ship’s cycle is different than yours.”

“Ah, yes,” he said slowly. “You’re still on Transit Three time. I had forgotten that.

I’ll get you nice room and you can read or something. I have other business to take care of right now. You’ll be fine on your own, I assume?”

She nodded, still unsure of him. He hadn’t answered her question.

He stood, turning away from her.

“Gwendlyn, please take Miss—what is your name again?”

“Giselle Canting,” she said slowly, rising to her own feet.

“Miss Canting to her room,” Josiah said. “Make sure she’s comfortable, and give her full access to the station’s libraries. I certainly wouldn’t want her to get bored.”

He nodded to her, then stroke out of the room. She looked to Gwendlyn, who smiled and nodded toward the door. Everyone else ignored her.

Clearly, they didn’t consider her a threat.

Chapter Eight

Sitting in the cell, waiting was maddening. He’d known the bastard was up to something from the first. He’d smuggled cargo and information past Josiah a thousand times and the man had never shown an interest in his ship before. Hell, half the time he was Jerred’s partner in the smuggling deal.

He should have missed his scheduled meeting. Sure, it would have caused some hassle for his superiors, but keeping Giselle safe was more important.

The thought stopped him cold.

How was keeping Giselle safe more important than his mission? She was just a woman, one of thousands.

Even as he told himself that, he knew it was a lie. Giselle was far more than just any woman. Just seeing her lying next to Josiah had made his blood pump hard. He’d wanted to kill the man. He should have done it while he had the chance, he thought slowly. Although the guards would probably have killed them.

That thought brought him up short.

He couldn’t imagine doing anything that might hurt Giselle. As long as she was alive, there was still hope for her. He needed to focus on that. The most important thing he could do was deflect Josiah’s attention from her. If he thought she was just a whore, he’d ignore her.

Hopefully.

After a year or two she might find a way back to a station, find some new way to support herself. Giselle was strong and she was smart.

All she needed was a chance…

He kept repeating that to himself as he sat for hours. The cell was small and sparse.

Along one wall was a metal cot; in the corner was a disposal unit. Nothing else. The walls were metal, the door smooth. Even the light was recessed into the ceiling and covered with translucent plast-crete. He tried to sleep, to conserve his energy, but it wasn’t happening.

Finally, the door slid open, revealing two armed guards

“The Captain wants to see you,” one of the men said as he stepped into the room.

His partner held a blaster pointed at Jerred.

“Turn around so I can cuff you.”

He did as he was told, wincing as the polymer strips went tight around his hands.

He could feel his circulation slow immediately, and realized that he might lose his hands if they were kept on long enough. Of course, that was assuming that he stayed alive long enough to lose them. For all he knew, he was headed to his own execution.

They marched him down the hall to small room. In it was a table, behind which sat Josiah. Standing behind him was Celia. Her throat appeared to be completely healed, and Jerred breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been afraid he’d killed her. He had heard them coming up behind him and moved the knife, but it had happened much faster than he’d anticipated.