Jerred’s Price (Saurellian Federation #3)(24)
Author: Joanna Wylde

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.

“How are you doing, Jerred?” Josiah asked, something dangerously close to a smirk on his face.

“Lovely,” Jerred replied, forcing himself to give a casual smile. “Although I have to say, I liked the earlier accommodations better.”

“Well, it is lonely in these cells,” Josiah said. “I understand you’ve gotten used to having company.”

Jerred bit the inside of his lip, willing himself not to give in to temptation and ask about Giselle. She needed to live, and that wouldn’t happen if she got stuck with him. He swallowed, and then spoke casually.

“I’ve been through worse. Why don’t you tell me what you plan to do with me?”

“You are so direct that it’s vulgar,” Josiah replied. “I’ve always disliked that about you. Don’t you want to know how your little Giselle is doing? Or rather, who she’s doing?”

“She’s a whore I found in a bar,” Jerred said. “I’m more interested in what you have planned for me.”

“What, not concerned that she knows your secrets?” Josiah asked archly. “You’re slipping, Jerred.

Safety first, remember?”

Jerred cursed himself internally. Josiah was right. His first concern should have been protecting the information revealed over dinner. Mission procedure called for someone like her to be terminated. But if he changed his story now, the bastard was likely to kill her just spite him. No weakness, he thought to himself. You can’t afford to show any weakness here.

“I’m more concerned about what’s going to happen to me,” he said slowly. “My secrets aren’t worth a damn if I’m dead.”

“Now that remains to be seen,” Josiah said archly. “I’ve found all kind of interesting information on your ship. Does Lord Drake Van’Ot know the Saurellian government has such an interest in him? I think that tidbit of information might be valuable to certain parties. Perhaps the Emperor’s chief of security?”

“I would be wary of deals made with the Emperor’s chief of security,” Jerred said. “He’s not a nice man, and he tends not to keep his promises of safe conduct.”