He faced her, the light bar between them. “Why didn’t you leave us to die?”

“Almost did. Saw the Claugh insignia and started walking away.”

He eyed her, suspicion in his frown. “What stopped you?”

She hunched her shoulders. “It’s not important.”

He spread his fingers wide. “Whatever it was changed your mind about leaving us to die, Edie. It’s important.”

“Not to me.” She had no intention of telling him. The weapons he had arrayed against her were potent enough. He didn’t need that one, too.

“Edie.”

“Plaguing a demo gal is bad for your health.”

“You’d blow me up?”

“Straight to Hell.”

“Edie.”

“What?”

“We’re on Hell.”

His dry as dust tone reached through the SEM and wrested a laugh from her.

His eyes darkened. She stared, fascinated. Maybe it reflected what storms did to the waters of his home world. His fingers smoothed the skin of her cheek.

Electricity sparked her veins. She started.

“Tell me what made you save us,” he murmured.

“No,” she said, damning the readings telling her the impact of his touch registered in her vocal quality.

His lips twitched, and his gaze shifted to her mouth.