Despite the utilitarian clothing, there was something about the way she held herself, the sharp intelligence in her green eyes, that made his focus narrow.
She moved with the economy of someone who knew exactly what her body could do and wasted no motion doing it. The scent of engine oil and metal clung to her, mixed with something else. Cheap soap. The industrial kind from station dispensers. And underneath that, the bitter tang of too much coffee.
His dragon, the part of him that usually only stirred for treasure or a good fight, perked up with interest.
Inconvenient.
"If you're slumming, go do it somewhere else." Her voice had the rough quality of someone who'd been breathing recycled air too long, each word clipped like she was rationing them. "This isn't a tour."
Zane grinned. "I’m not slumming, I'm looking to hire."
She raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. The expression should have been dismissive, but there was calculation in it. She was already figuring out exactly how much she could charge him. Her gaze lingered on his boots. They cost more than her ship's fuel for a month.
Zane let himself slouch a little more. He'd dressed down for this, relatively speaking, but apparently not enough. "I have a meeting on Ofros, and I need a ride. You looked like you could use the fare."
The captain scoffed. "Do I look like a pleasure transport? Head to the upper decks for something a bit more your speed."
"I think you're exactly my speed."
She rolled her eyes. The motion was so thoroughly apathetic that it actually stung his pride a little. Women didn't usually dismiss him quite so easily. They certainly didn't look at him like he was a particularly annoying fly that had landed on their lunch.
Then she named a price.
It wasn't far off from what he'd paid for the ship with the gold plates. "Half up front in hard credit," she added. "You're not running from debts, are you?"
"No!" He definitely didn't glance back at the ship three berths down. That was merely a misunderstanding. "But you're insane if you think I'm paying that."
She shrugged. A single, economical movement that conveyed complete indifference to his financial concerns. "Then move along." She hopped off the gangplank and started towards the back of her ship. Her gait had the slightest hitch, favoring her left leg.
"Wait!" Zane didn't have time to argue, but now that he'd spotted this ship, he wanted it. No use finding something else. This was perfect. Exactly the kind of disaster his family would hate.
She stopped. Half-turned, one hand resting on her hip near what looked suspiciously like a concealed weapon. Her fingers drummed once against the grip. He wasn’t sure if that was a warning or a habit.
"What's your name?" he asked.
She blinked a few times then answered, "Mercy Webb. Why?"
The name suited her. Short, practical, with just a hint of something more underneath.
"We appear to have gotten off on the wrong foot. I'm Lord Zane of Vemion, and I require transport to Ofros. Would you do me the honor of escorting me?" Already, his mind was turning with opportunity. Showing up in a busted-up ship with a beautiful human woman was exactly what he needed to do.
Shade would take one look at this situation and declare him unsuitable for any respectable match. Perfect.
She actually laughed. Not a polite titter or a charming giggle, but a genuine bark of amusement that transformed her face for just a moment. For a half-second, she looked younger. Less worn down by whatever had put those shadows under her eyes. "You definitely belong on the upper decks, Lord Zane."
"I don't need luxury," he insisted. "The only thing I require is fresh clothes and a suitable wine cellar."
Her expression went completely flat. "You're joking."
"About the wine? Never." He let his most charming smile spread across his face, the one that usually got him whatever he wanted. The one that had convinced a duchess to loan him her prize racing steed and a casino owner to extend his credit limit.
She was unmoved. If anything, she looked more skeptical. Her eyes narrowed slightly, like she was trying to figure out what con he was running.
She named her price again. This time with the air of someone who expected him to walk away. Her chin lifted just slightly. Daring him to balk. Good. Let her think she'd won this negotiation.
Was Zane really going to do this?
He thought of Shade's knowing smile. His mother's hopeful expression. The parade of suitable, boring, perfectly appropriate dragon ladies waiting to be paraded in front of him.
