Page 9 of Kiss of Steel

He’d caught a brief glimpse of the topography when he and Fury had landed in the emergency pod. Scrubland surrounded the intake center. Small-leaf, low-growing grayish-green shrubbery and gnarly short trees adaptable to cold covered the ground. He hadn’t spotted any animal life, but then he’d really only seen the inside of the intake compound.

They reached the building. “After you.” The official gestured.

* * * *

Honoria paced the waiting area, too anxious to sit. She hadn’t expected things to move this fast. She’d disembarked the Cosmic Mates vessel, been processed at Refuge, and then been told she would be meeting her match and getting married right away. She’d hoped to have time to get acclimated, to get to know him before they got hitched.

I wish there was another way.

Sometimes, she wished she’d kept her mouth shut, but then her conscience reminded her how she’d saved a man’s life. Her own had been upended, but down deep, she knew she’d do the same thing all over again.

Except, I’d plan much better.With greater foresight or prescience, she might have avoided becoming a Cosmic Mates bride. But how could she have predicted how the trial would go down? The prosecutor had assured her he would get a conviction. How naive she’d been!

After receiving the scarf and threat, she’d lived in abject terror until she’d boarded the Cosmic Mates ship. Thankfully, she had done alittleplanning. During the trial, she’d forwarded a trunk of clothing to a storage facility at the spaceport, on the slim possibility the verdict didn’t go the way it should, and she needed to flee.

That had been one of the smartest things she’d done because she couldn’t have left her building with a suitcase. After getting the scarf, she was convinced Blane had someone staking out her building.

The morning of embarkation, she’d hacked off her mid-back chestnut hair and donned the men’s clothes she’d stolen from the laundry room—she felt guilty about that—and then waited in the lobby. When a group of teenagers on their way to school appeared, she blended into their group and strolled out with them, smiling and pretending she belonged with them. In a knapsack, she’d stashed a few more items.

She’d considered slipping out the rear but figured Blane would have the alley watched, and a “teenage boy” sneaking out the emergency exit would draw too much attention. Sometimes the best place to hide was in plain sight.

Halfway down the block, she separated from the schoolkids, raced to the spaceport, collected her trunk from storage, boarded the ship, collapsed in her cabin, and cried with relief.

However, relief evaporated when she pondered her uncertain future.

By the time the ship landed on Refuge, she’d worked herself into a bundle of nerves. Trepidation had been exacerbated when the rep informed her he would go retrieve herfiancéso they could be married.

Right now?

Her back was to the entrance, but a blast of frigid air alerted her the door had opened. On cue, her legs shook. Was Refuge always this cold? She hoped they were headed toward summer rather than entering winter. Did she pack a jacket? She couldn’t recall. Maybe she could buy one. They’d given her a card with some credits until she received her first wages. Earth money—no planet’s currency—transferred here. She’d been assigned to work at a ranchco-op, which she’d assumed was a store of some kind. But a ranch? That sounded…rural. An urbanite, she’d always lived in the city—had never even been to the country. There were bugs in the country, weren’t there? Well, maybe not here. This was a different planet.Maybe it’s bug free.Or they have insects the size of crows.Given her recent bad luck, it was more likely the latter.

She realized she was stalling to avoid facing her fate.I have to face him sometime.He’s probably not as scary in person as he appeared in hologram.

Slowly, she pivoted.

He was scarier.

Her soon-to-be husband was a monolith in camo and olive, his shirt rolled to the elbows and open to a brown throat. Lifting her gaze, she met the coldest eyes she’d ever seen on a human being. A square jaw, sharp cheekbones, and an angular nose had been chiseled from brownstone. He offered no smile of welcome, his mouth cut into a slash of indifference.

What have I done?

“Honoria Foster—Jason Steel,” the rep introduced them.

“H-hello, nice to meet you,” she said, uttering one of the biggest lies she’d ever told.

He didn’t even blink. Didn’t lie in return. Just stood there in silence allowing the situation to devolve into greater awkwardness. Did the man speak? She’d assumed he spoke English. What if he didn’t? What if he spoke Arabic or Swahili or Afrikaans? He looked like he could be of Middle Eastern descent or African or maybe Mexican. She spoke a smattering of Spanish.

The rep cleared his throat. “Uh, well, come this way, please. You don’t have much time. The conveyance needs to leave.”

She slung her backpack over her shoulder, and the rep ushered them toward a small office.

“You must be the happy couple,” chirped the three-eyed purple woman behind the counter. “I’ve been waiting for you! My name is Juju. I’ll be marrying you today. Are you excited?”

Fortunately, she didn’t seem to expect an answer but rattled on. “First, let’s go over the legalities. Cosmic Mates marriages are probationary. At the end of a year, either party can annul the union, no questions asked, no grounds needed. We call that the escape clause.” She tittered. “But if you continue to cohabitate, the marriage becomes final. There is also a bad faith clause, giving either party an out in the event the other party misrepresented his or her intentions. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” She nodded. Having an out made this bearable.

“Yes.” He could speak!

---