W hen you come. Oh gods! What had she done? Had she completely lost all sense of reality? Her pulse jumped frantically.
“Is there a place we can be more private, princess?” He kissed her cheek.
She pushed his hand away and smoothed her dress back down. She had to stop this before it went further; it had already escalated to a deadly dangerous level.
“No. There is not. This will go no further, and let me advise you to forget that this ever happened.”
His smile was slow. “Forget? We both know that’s not likely, Talia.”
Why would he not back off? Did he not realize what was at stake? His life? The thought of him being killed sent a cold wash of fear through her. She had to dissuade him, remove any hope he had of her being with him.
“I don’t know who you are, but let me assure you that you will never touch me again,” she said stiffly. “I am no common Rosabelle that might be shared amongst friends. I am Rosabelle to the Governing Council. And you, sir, are a nobody.”
“Is that so, princess?” His grip on her arms tightened and she reluctantly turned her gaze back to him.
“Stop calling me a princess when we both know I am not one.”
“No.” His mouth grew tight. “You’re just a slave forced to act as a whore.”
Her face burned with anger and humiliation and she raised her hand to slap him. He caught her wrist mid-swing, his grip tightening painfully around her smaller bones.
“Not your smartest move,” he warned and drew her toward him again.
A series of beeps signaled someone was punching in the code to enter the corridor.
“This shall be continued later.” He released her and strode down the hall in the opposite direction, just as someone else entered the corridor.
Later? Gods. The man was audacious. Talia leaned heavily against the wall, the breath leaving her body in one ragged sigh. What had she just done?
“Mistress Natalia? Do you fair well?”
She opened her eyes and smoothed her dress over her body, before acknowledging one of the guards that routinely patrolled the Council’s headquarters.
“I am well, thank you,” she lied. “Just a bit of a head cold.”
He nodded and then bowed. “I wish you well, mistress. Have a nice day.”
She curtsied and remained where she was until he’d passed. Her heart still raced from her encounter with that man, and her nipples stabbed against the silky fabric of her dress. She must not walk back into the Council’s chamber in this state. Her bottom still smarted from the punishment she’d received earlier.
She walked to the window in the corridor to look down into Dane’s chambers. The couple was no longer inside. Her sigh of regret rang through the again empty corridor. There would be no brief nap today. She would simply run to the toilet chamber before heading back to be with Council. Hopefully that would be enough time for the physical effects of her encounter with the stranger to abate.
Ryder strode through the corridors of the Council’s headquarters, his blood pounding through his veins. Damn. He had not intended to touch her. Had known the minute he did so that all rational thought would be history.
Then he’d come across her, and she’d been watching the two men fucking below. Her lips parted in wonder, large breasts pressed up against the glass window as she strained to see the couple. His control had snapped, and he knew he wouldn’t leave that corridor without having tasted the sin behind her lips.
He shook his head, as if the harsh movement would rid her from his thoughts once and for all. The next hour would be the true test. Once he met with the Council and—if all went well—he had Talia alone, then he could begin retribution of her abrupt and callous dismissal of him. Then she would realize he was anything but a nobody.
“You are an outsider. Please present your badge, sir.”
Ryder glanced up and met the empty gaze of one of the corridor droids. He pulled his visitor’s pass from the pocket in his suit and allowed the droid to scan it.
“Alan Worthington. Thank you. Enjoy your visit to the governing headquarters.”
The droid’s buttons lit up as he floated past him and down the corridor.
Ryder slipped the pass with the fake identity back into his pocket. So far the initial phase of the plan had gone smoothly, but the real test was what he was about to do.
As he wandered the headquarters to pass the time before his appointment, he felt no fear, only confidence and the knowledge that his planet’s survival rested on the success of this mission.
Talia entered the Council’s chamber one hundred percent in control of her emotions again. Ramirez and Franklin sat on the couch with mugs of coffee in their hands, while Victor paced in front of the windows that looked out over the city park.
“The amount Mr. Worthington is willing to invest in the weapons program is astronomical,” Ramirez was saying. “I feel it is in our best interest to encourage him by any means necessary.”
Victor sighed and then nodded. “Yes, yes, I quite agree.”
“I don’t know.” Franklin stood, having caught sight of her, and crossed the room toward her. “I’m still not certain we can trust this man.”
Tension ran through her body as he suddenly pulled her hard against him. The breath caught in her throat as he grabbed the hem of her dress and jerked it above her hips. His fingers plunged between her legs.
A slow satisfied smile spread across his face. “You are dry.”
She swallowed hard, grateful that she’d taken a few moments to compose; and clean herself after the intimate moment with the strange man in the hall.
She lowered her gaze. “Of course. Did you think I would not be? I was away from you three.”
“Yes, you were.” Franklin’s tone indicated he didn’t trust her, and his fingers moved a bit more roughly inside her.
“Franklin,” Victor’s voice held a warning. “We agreed to keep things on a lighter note this afternoon with Natalia, due to our meeting.”
“Yes. So we did.” Franklin released her with narrowed eyes and the hem of her dress fell back to the floor.
She was unable to stop her shoulders from sagging with relief. His touch, even as he’d stroked her clitoris, had failed to bring forth any arousal.
Had he kept his fingers within her long enough to discover her lack of desire, there would have been anger and endless questioning.
Fortunately, “lighter note” meant keeping their attention above the waist. There would be no more little tests any time soon.
“How did Mr. Worthington come about his riches?” Franklin queried. “Surely he is not old money?”
Ramirez made a loud snort. “Old money? I think not.” He patted the couch and gestured for Talia to come sit beside him. “The man has made an obscene fortune as an oil tycoon on the planet Earth.”
Automatically she crossed the room and sat down on the white leather couch, curling her legs under her bottom.
“Earth,” Franklin grumbled. “That shithole? Now I really don’t trust him.”
“What’s not to trust?” Ramirez reached behind her and unbuttoned her dress, pulling the fabric down to bare her breasts. He caressed the right breast, toying with the nipple. “If the man is willing, then by gods we should do it.”
“It doesn’t seem odd to you?” Franklin demanded, but his glare was targeted on her.
Talia lowered her gaze. It was apparent he wasn’t pleased that he’d been forced to release her, yet Ramirez took the liberty to fondle her breasts.
Her stomach knotted and heaviness settled in her heart. How many more hours were in this day until once again the men had taken their pleasure with her and she was granted the freedom to sleep? To drift off into that alternate reality where she could be free for the six hours of sleep—monitored by Dane—that she was allotted.
“Look, gentlemen, the bottom line is Mr. Worthington is considering making an offer to back our expansion in our weapons and military.” Victor shook his head. “Without that backing, the planet’s deficit will quadruple by the time our attack on Belton is complete.”
“Yes, but what does Mr. Worthington gain by doing this for us? Surely he wants something in return.”
Victor was silent for a moment. “He would like to become the fourth member of the Governing Council.”
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Franklin demanded. “No. Absolutely not. We make the attack with the resources that we have—”
“I agree with Victor,” Ramirez interrupted quietly. “We have little choice.”
The intercom buzzed, stopping any response Franklin may have had.
Victor walked around to his desk and pressed a button. “Yes?”
“Alan Worthington has arrived for your meeting,” a gruff voice announced.
“Give us two minutes and then send him in.”
Victor walked back to the center of the room and looked at the other two men.
“Are we agreed that we will do whatever it takes to gain Mr. Worthington’s backing?”
“Reluctantly,” Franklin muttered. “You know my thoughts.”
“I am in agreement.” Ramirez nodded and squeezed her nipple between his fingers one last time. “Cover yourself, Natalia.”
She nodded, closing her eyes against the threat of tears. Why was it so much harder today to bear the Council members’ touches? She slipped her arms back into the sleeves of the dress, and the door swished open as she reached behind her to button it.
“Welcome, Mr. Worthington,” Victor boomed in a bright voice. “Thank you for coming today.”
“No big deal, boys. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”
Talia’s muscles tensed and the blood drained from her face. He was Alan Worthington? She lifted her gaze and saw it was indeed him: the man from the hallway. But his voice was different. He had an accent that she hadn’t noticed earlier. He still wore the suit, but now had some strange-looking hat on his head. It looked familiar, like the same style she’d seen in old Western movies.
He was watching her in such an intimate way that she was certain the Council would notice. Would he expose the two of them? Terror clawed at her throat and her nails dug into the arm of the couch.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty thing?” he drawled and winked at her.
She was as good as dead! It was a miracle she hadn’t fallen to the ground in a faint. Her pulse throbbed. She was sure the frantic beat of her heart could almost be seen through the silk of her dress.
“Yes, she is.” Victor’s voice held a bit of an edge, but then he smiled. “Natalia, please bring in more coffee for the Council and our guest.”
She gave a jerky nod and stood, her legs wobbly as she made her way out of the chamber. In her mind, she prepared for the severe punishment that doubtless would come.
Ryder watched her leave the room, her head held high and her ass swinging lusciously. His eyes narrowed when the doors swished shut behind her.
Talia. Or no, Natalia. It took everything in his power to not allow himself to get a mammoth-sized hard-on. He knew his interest in her was not discreet, but then that was not necessarily a bad thing. Though the sensual Rosabelle had no idea, she would be the key game piece in his plan.
“You seem quite interested in Natalia.”
Yes, I am. He turned to face the man who’d spoken. Victor Owens. One of the Council members and the man behind so much destruction and violence. It would be all too easy to simply kill the man now—all three of the men, actually.
He had officially infiltrated the highest-ranking form of government on this small planet; the opportunity was perfect. But it would also diminish his chances of leaving this building alive.
“She’s a hot filly,” Ryder replied with a broad grin.
“Hot filly?” The man on the couch—Franklin, he knew from the file they had on him—stood and approached him.
“Well, sure. Meaning she’s a beauty.” Ryder scratched the back of his neck. “We got the same problem back home that you folks got. The women all started dying off ’bout a couple hundred years ago. Sure, we got a few. But I don’t think I’ve ever been with a woman who didn’t look like horse manure.”
Franklin’s mouth twisted with obvious disgust. Good. It meant they believed him to be what he portrayed: just a horny, dumb, oil tycoon.
“Why don’t we get down to business, gentlemen?” Ramirez spoke from the couch. “Have you considered our offer, Mr. Worthington?”
“Yeah, I’ve been considering it.” He shook his head. “But I’ll be real honest with you boys. I’m not so certain that I won’t be getting the short end of the stick.”
“We have agreed to your terms. What more could you possibly want?”
Ryder’s lips curled into a smile and he glanced toward the door Talia had just exited. “Well, now that you’re asking…”
Talia took a deep breath as she made her way back down the corridor. Her pulse still raced, her stomach felt all fluttery.
Would the man—Mr. Worthington—have told them what had happened between the two of them? Surely he wouldn’t be that stupid. She had warned him that his punishment could be death. And if they were to learn that their precious investor had forced a kiss on her…by gods it would not be pretty.
She balanced the four mugs on a tray with one hand and used the other to press the code to enter the Council’s chamber.
The doors slid open with a hiss and she stepped into the room. Immediately she noticed the change in dynamic. It was uncomfortably quiet, and all eyes focused on her as she made her way across the floor.
“Your coffee,” she murmured, lowering her gaze as she set the tray down on Victor’s desk. “Mr. Worthington, do you take cream and sugar?”
“Always with cream.”
She looked up. The way he’d said that made the word cream seemed dirty. His gaze bore into hers, and her hand that held the pot of coffee trembled.
“Do we have a deal, boys?” He spoke to the other men, but never took his eyes off her.
His question was met with a heavy silence. She paused in the midst of pouring the coffee and glanced over at the Council. Something was wrong. All three appeared reluctant to answer, but Franklin appeared absolutely livid as well.
Victor finally gave a terse nod. “Yes, Mr. Worthington. You have a deal.”
The words chilled her and a sense of foreboding took root.
“That’s right decent of you.” He grinned and then crossed the room toward her. “Oh, and I should warn you, I like things a bit rough.”
A strangled gasp escaped her throat as he reached out and cupped the back of her neck. Her gaze flew to the Council, sure they would be reaching for their weapons.
Ramirez nodded. “You may use her as you wish, but do not leave lasting marks.”
Use her as you wish. The words spun in her head. Use her as you wish.
“Victor?” Her voice cracked as she turned to the head Council member.
He ignored her, instead keeping his focus on Alan Worthington. “The agreement is for two hours.”
“Sounds great, boys. And we can use her bedding unit?”
“Ramirez?” She tried to get the older man’s attention, but he lowered his gaze. “What is happening? Please, someone explain.”
“I’ll explain, princess.” Mr. Worthington touched her cheek, his face so close to hers she could see the mocking amusement in his eyes. “I get to do whatever the hell I want with you for the next two hours.”
The room spun and she was unable to breathe. No…. He had permission to bed her? Heat spread through her body as she thought of that moment they’d shared in the hall. How firm and confident his mouth had been on hers, how knowing his fingers. How he’d coaxed a fire within her that she had never experienced.
That one encounter had lasted less than ten minutes, yet had subtly changed her ability to respond to the Council’s touches. Two hours with him would ruin her for good, which could only lead to the most hellish of punishments.
“No.” She shook her head and fled across the room, falling at Victor’s feet. “Please, no.”
“Stand up.” He jerked her to her feet, looking annoyed. “You’re disgracing yourself.”
“Please. You cannot mean to do this….” She was babbling, tears in her eyes now.
Never had they given her away for another man’s personal use. The thought of it sickened her, validated the term of whore Alan Worthington had called her earlier.
She shook her head. “I can’t do this. I won’t.”
A hand gripped her elbow, spinning her around. She noted Franklin’s furious glare before his palm slapped across her cheek. Her head snapped to the side, the sudden stinging pain shocking her into silence.
Her gaze connected with Alan’s and she didn’t miss the anger that flashed in his narrowed gaze or the tightness around his mouth.
“Franklin,” Victor protested.
“No, she must learn.” Franklin gripped her shoulders and glared down at her. “You have no freedom, my dear. You are our possession. And if we decide to lend you out for a business deal or even to the Council’s entire army, you will spread your legs without protest.”
Everything inside her went numb. Her emotions went strangely flat. She was a whore. She was. Stick the term Rosabelle on her all you want, she was a whore.
“I will take Natalia to her bedding unit now,” Alan said and crossed the room, sliding an arm around her waist.
She didn’t protest; was almost grateful for his strength that held her upright.
“Now?” Victor’s voice rose. “What guarantees do we have that you will not take use of Natalia and then go back on your word to back us?”
Almost to the door, he stopped them and turned around. “I have instructed my accountant to transfer five million tremas to your account in one hour as a gesture of goodwill.”
Victor gaped, practically salivating. “I see. Well—”
“If you haven’t got the money after one hour, then come get me.” His grip around her waist tightened. “But only if it hasn’t arrived. I plan to have the fuck of a lifetime with this little filly, boys.”
Little Filly? Some of the numbness dissipated and Talia blinked. Fuck of a lifetime? Anger filtered through her blood and she clenched her teeth. She would not make this easy for him. To hell with the punishment she’d receive later.
“So unless you boys have any more protests, I’m going to make use of my gift here.” Alan smacked her ass and then squeezed the flesh, his palm nearly covering an entire cheek.
Her blood burned hotter. What weapons were in her room? To be more exact, what would be best to gouge his eyes out?
“No, no more protests, Mr. Worthington.” Ramirez went back behind his desk and began toying with his computer. “Enjoy your time with Natalia. You’ll find her quite agreeable.”
“Thank you much, boys.” Alan tipped his hat and then led her out the doors into the corridor. He leaned down, his quiet voice tickling her ear. “I promise that he will pay for hitting you. Lead me to your room, princess.”
Why did he care if the Council hit her? “Do I have any choice?”
“No, Talia. You don’t.” All lightness in his tone vanished and it almost sounded as if his accent had disappeared for a moment.
But wait, that made no sense. Confusion warred with her frustration.
“Don’t call me Talia,” she muttered, attempting to pull away but his grip simply tightened.
“In the corridor you told me that was your name.”
Her laugh rose to semihysterical. “In the corridor I was out of my mind.”
“Perhaps you were in the state of mind you have always deserved to be in.”
What did he mean? And yes. The accent was gone, and his words were more formal now than that bizarre slang he’d been speaking to the Council with.
They arrived outside her chamber and she turned to him, her brows drawn together in a frown. When she hesitated to open the door, he grabbed her hand and placed it on the palm recognition security box. A few men passed by them in the corridor casting curious glances their way.
The door slid open and he pushed her inside.
She stumbled to the middle of the chamber, swinging around to face him. Her breasts rose and fell beneath the fabric. “You need to explain.”
A predatory smile crossed his face and he reached for the tie around his neck. “I don’t need to explain anything, princess.”
His voice was cold, not even a trace of the accent. Who was he? A shiver ran down her spine and she took a few steps backward.
He pulled off his suit jacket and dropped it to the floor. “Take off your dress.”
Her pulse slowed and then accelerated right back up into double time. The heat that spread throughout her brought a flush to her body.
She ran her tongue across her lips. “No. I will not.”
“Agreeable indeed.” He raised an eyebrow. “All right. If you will not remove it, then I will do so for you.”
He lunged and her scream reverberated through the chamber. Her dress ripped as he caught the hem and jerked.
“No!” She twisted away, causing the dress to split halfway up her hip.
He jerked hard on the fabric he held in his fist, catching her off balance and sending her sprawling to the floor.
“Barbarian!” she screamed, trying to scurry away.
He fell to his knees and straddled her, grabbing her wrists in one hand and forcing them above her head. With his other hand free, he grabbed the bodice of her dress and ripped hard. Her breasts spilled free and she closed her eyes with a groan.
The room went quiet, with only the sounds of their ragged breathing to break the silence.
“By gods, Talia,” he rasped. “You’re more beautiful than I imagined.”
She shook her head and tugged at her wrists. She tried to hold onto the anger inside her, but there was a more dominant emotion fighting to take hold. Hot fire spread through her body, locking the breath in her throat and hardening her nipples.
“Oh gods. This makes no sense,” she confessed huskily. “I should not want this.”
His eyes darkened. “But you do.” The calloused pad of his thumb smoothed over one nipple and she gasped, heat moving between her legs. “You do, princess.”
He lowered his head and nuzzled her throat, kissed the pulse that beat there before sliding up toward her ear. His palm, wide and rough, cupped her breast. He caught her earlobe between his teeth and bit gently.
Talia’s hips arched off the floor, a guttural cry escaping past her lips. It was back, this strange heat and almost drunken state of arousal she got when he got near her.
He rolled her nipple between his finger and thumb. Another tremble rocked her body and hot cream gathered in her pussy.
“I can smell your desire for me.” His fingers moved between her legs and rubbed lightly between the folds, the sensation so intense the muscles of her cunt clenched. “Unfortunately, fucking you will have to wait.”
“I…I don’t understand.” She squirmed, desperate with the need for him to press his fingers inside her. “Alan…please.”
His lips moved against her ear, his words just a whisper. “My name’s not Alan.”
The odd response brought her up from the thick depths of desire. “W-what?”
His hand moved away from her pussy and slid over to wrap around her right thigh. His expression turned somber, hard. “I’m sorry, princess.”
She saw the flash of the needle, just before it swung down and jabbed painfully into her thigh.
“No!” She struggled again, panic slicing through the fog of desire, but it was too late. Her flesh burned from whatever he was injecting into her.
Oh gods! What had he just done? She struggled harder, managing to free one wrist because of the terror-induced adrenaline.
“Hold still.” He recaptured her wrist and held her down, kissing the tears that rolled down her cheek. “Just relax.”
She shook her head, but the movement made her dizzy. The lights above her head left tracers. Opening her mouth to speak, she found her tongue thick and the words stuck in her throat. Why? Why had he done it?
“That’s it, princess. Close your eyes,” he whispered and smoothed his thumb over her lips.
Her eyelids grew heavy, too heavy, and finally she closed them, almost certain she would never wake up.
Ryder waited until she was limp on the floor and then glanced around the room. He reassured himself there were no cameras, even if the room was almost certainly bugged for audio. It was the reason he’d told the Council he liked it rough, so her screams would be taken as a woman in pain. Not as a woman being abducted.
He hadn’t expected her to succumb to his touch so quickly, to be trapped under the web of arousal. He’d only spoken in whispers, so low the bug would not suspect anything more than whispers of passion. Her moans had been real, and thankfully aided him in his quest. Surely the Council would have no doubts that she’d been a willing lover enjoying a moment of passion with a stranger.
He’d wanted to give her the injection when her mind was clouded by passion, and it had worked. She had not even realized his intent until the needle had already pricked the skin of her creamy thigh.
Ryder turned his glance back down to her. She was lying on her back, with her knees bent to the side and her arms limp on the ground above her head. Her thigh bore the small red mark where he’d plunged the needle. He kissed two of his fingers and then pressed them against the inflamed flesh.
Now came the final part of the mission. He glanced at his watch to assure himself he was on schedule. He was, though just barely. He’d taken the seduction stage just a little further than intended. She goes to your head, be careful around her .
He stood and went into the bathroom, kneeling down near the east wall and prying open the grate over the heating vent. Inside was the bag he’d stored earlier. He picked it up and went back into her room.
She was still on the floor, out cold just as he’d left her. Unzipping the bag, he pulled out the small incision knife and another syringe already loaded with the numbing agent.
Only a few minutes had passed since she’d been injected, but too long of a period of silence might raise the Council’s suspicions.
He cleared his throat, infusing a bit of huskiness into his voice. “That’s right, princess, use your mouth on me. Oh…yes…just like that.”
Gods, he sounded like an idiot.
Lifting her foot onto his lap, he traced the pad of his thumb over her heel. The skin was buttery soft, no calloused skin anywhere. His mouth drew tight. Obviously she was a pampered, kept woman. He kept searching until he felt it. The slight ridge under the skin.
He grabbed the syringe, inserted it into her heel, and pressed the plunger. She groaned loudly. Fortunately, it sounded a bit sexual. He glanced at her, making sure it had just been a reflex. Yes, she was still out cold.
He recapped the syringe and dropped it into the bag, then grabbed the small incision knife. He tapped the point of the knife lightly against her heel, watching her face to see if she’d react. Nothing. She was completely numb.
He pressed the knife into her heel, cutting a small square around the area of the ridge, wiping away the blood that appeared. Peeling back the skin, he found it. The tiny tracking device that was so carefully implanted.
Using the tip of the knife, he lifted the plastic device out of her foot and set it in the bag. He pulled a small bottle out and removed a capsule, breaking it over the wound, knowing the gel inside would stop the bleeding within minutes.
He quickly bandaged her heel and then grabbed a small cotton jumpsuit—common dress for a male on this planet—from his bag. He quickly dressed her in it and then glanced at his watch again. His pulse sped up. A half hour had passed since they’d entered the room. The clock was ticking.
Time to appease the Council again, play up the dumb cowboy image.
“All right, princess. We’ve still got plenty of time. Let’s have some good old-fashioned shower sex.” He whooped. “’Cause, whoooeee, did we get sweaty.”
He slid his arms under her limp body and scooped her high against his chest. After walking them into the bathroom, he laid her on the carpeted floor and turned on the shower.
He took the tracking device and placed it on a high shelf in the shower where it wouldn’t get wet, but would give the illusion of Talia taking a shower with him. He stripped off the rest of his suit and changed into the lightweight clothes he’d packed.
Grabbing his transmitter mobile, he punched in the code to signal for the pickup. A few seconds later the confirmation signal came through.
A light sweat of sheen broke out on his forehead as he went to work removing a metal panel from the wall.
The Governing Council on Zortou had let the planet enter a state of poverty and near decay. Bribing a guard to create an escape route from Talia’s chamber had been easy enough. The offer of money and asylum had been all the convincing he’d needed.
The metal finally fell away, leaving a short and narrow tunnel in the wall. Almost there.
Ryder walked back into the bedroom, checking to see if he’d left anything behind and then went back to the bathroom.
He picked up Talia and slung her over his shoulder, then hunched down and moved into the tunnel. He ran the few steps and kicked out the panel of metal on the other side. Blinding sunlight filled the tunnel and he blinked, searching for the escape pod.
Nothing. His blood pounded harder. Where the fuck was it?
He coughed, the air from the atmosphere already clotting in his lungs.
There was a whirl of noise and then the black, spherelike pod pulled up front. The door slid open and Dillon stood with his arms outstretched. Ryder handed Talia over, waited as Dillon settled her in, and then climbed in after them.
They’d done it. A small smile played around his mouth as the pod shot straight up and into the atmosphere of the planet. The skin on his body went taut at the speed they moved.
“Everything go well, my friend?” Dillon asked, casting him a sideways glance.
“Very well.”
“Did the Council suspect anything?”
Ryder’s mouth twisted. “No. They were too focused on the expansion of their money accounts. In about fifteen minutes they’ll figure it out, though.”
“I imagine they’ll be fairly enraged.”
“Most likely.” Ryder glanced back at Talia. She was slumped over in the back. “But worse will come when they realize their precious Rosabelle is gone.”
“I’ll bet. Losing your personal whore can really shit on your parade.”
Ryder’s jaw clenched and he resisted the urge to defend her. But why? She was exactly that. Whore to the Governing Council that was planning an attack on his home planet. No. She didn’t need his defense. If anything she would need protection from him by the time he finished with her.
“When will we arrive on Belton, Lieutenant?”
“Approximately two hours of travel and then the half hour of detox after arrival.”
He nodded and closed his eyes. “Good. She’ll be out for at least the next five hours.”