"Deal." She leaned down to kiss him, meaning it to be quick and reassuring. But the moment their lips met, heat flared between them. His hand fisted in her hair, deepening the kiss until she was breathless and aching all over again. When they finally broke apart, his eyes held flecks of fire that hadn't been there before.
"Be careful," he said, and the rough edge to his voice made her shiver.
She had to escape the room before another kiss could turn into something more.
She found Myles near the hangar where they'd landed the stolen shuttle. The morning sun cast long shadows across the landing platform, and maintenance crews moved with purpose around various aircraft. The shuttle was gone. Probably already stripped for parts or sold to someone who wouldn't ask inconvenient questions.
"Merc!" Myles straightened from where he'd been examining a sleek transport, his weathered face creasing into a smile. "How are you holding up?"
"I've been better." She fell into step beside him as he continued his inspection route. "We need to talk about what happened yesterday."
"I heard." His expression sobered. "Bad business, that. How many bodies do you think I can clean up?"
"If I knew that, I’d tell you." She kicked at a piece of debris, watching it skitter across the polished platform. "We escaped from a pirate calling himself Horris. He had some … strange ideas about me and my dad."
Myles nodded thoughtfully. His comm unit chirped, and he held up a finger before answering. "Judd here. What? No, tell them to wait. I’ll be ready in an hour or so." He ended the call with an apologetic shrug. "Sorry. Where were we?"
"Figuring out how screwed I am."
"You know, I have to say I'm surprised." Myles resumed walking, hands clasped behind his back in a gesture she remembered from their freight-running days. "I didn’t really think you were Zane’s type. Or that he’s yours."
Something in his tone made her stomach clench. "What do you mean?"
"Well, he's got quite the reputation. Did you know he once fled from Lady Persoff's bedroom wearing nothing but a bedsheet? Had to scramble down three stories of castle wall while her husband chased him with a plasma sword."
The words hit her like ice water. "What?"
"Oh, that's nothing compared to the Pinae incident." Myles laughed, apparently oblivious to her shock. "He seduced three of their sacred courtesans right out from under Emperor Zil's nose. Had to be smuggled off-planet in a cargo container when they put a death mark on him."
Mercy's mind reeled. The man who'd baked her bread and cleaned her galley? The one who'd held her like she was precious? "Are you sure we're talking about the same person?"
"Dragon lord Zane of Vemion?” Myles's eyebrows rose. "Trust me, his exploits are legendary. Half the noble houses in three systems have banned him from their social functions. The other half are just waiting for their chance."
Each word was a knife between her ribs. She thought of how Zane had kissed her, like he wanted forever. How he'd asked her to come to Vemion, to build something together. Had it all been an act? Another conquest for the notorious playboy prince?
"I had no idea," she managed. He’d talked about avoiding the Matchmaker, about not wanting attachment. But hearing actual stories rather than whatever he’d implied …
Could he mean it when he looked at her like things were real? Was that how he’d looked that the courtesans?
"Don't take it personally. He's charming as hell when he wants to be. Just don't expect anything permanent. Commitment isn't exactly his strong suit."
Myles said more, but Mercy barely heard it. Her thoughts spun in sickening circles, replaying every moment with Zane through this new lens. Had he been laughing at her naivety? The independent pilot who'd fallen for the oldest trick in the book?
"Listen," Myles said, and she forced herself to focus. "I can get you out of here safely. I still have contacts with some decent crews who could use a good pilot. You could work your way back up to your own ship again."
Her old life. The one where she answered to no one, trusted no one, needed no one. It should have sounded like salvation. Instead, it felt hollow.
"You could have your life back, Merc. The way it was before all this pirate nonsense."
But did she want her life back?
The loneliness, the constant struggle, the walls that kept everyone at arm's length? Even if everything Myles said about Zane was true, even if she'd been a fool to trust him, going back to that existence felt like a kind of death.
"Why don't you think it over?" Myles suggested. "You can use my office. Get away from any distractions and really consider your options."
Distractions. Meaning Zane. The man who might have been playing her from the beginning.
Or who was offering her everything and ready to give up his playboy life for … her.
