Page 6 of Kiss of Steel

Standing to the side of the heavily draped bedroom window, she peeled back the curtain a tad and surveyed the street three floors below. Vacant, quiet. A measure of her tension relaxed, but she remained on alert, eyeing the parked hovercars until she was satisfied no one was staking out her apartment.

Gripping the blaster, she hid behind the wall while peering into the parlor, sweeping her gaze from shadow to shadow to verify no one had breached security and lay in wait.

Moving to the front door, she checked that all four locks were securely fastened. Then she verified the windows were bolted, although there was less of a concern that someone could break in that way since she lived on the third floor. She’d chosen an upper-level unit so someone would have to scale the building to get in. On the downside, if someone broke down the front door, she couldn’t escape via a window.

Also, she could still be shotthroughthe glass, so she kept the drapes closed and avoided standing or sitting in front of the windows.

She’d gotten quite paranoid after discovering the company “fixed problems” by killing them. With black humor, she imagined Solutions, Inc.’s ad copy.

Let us fix your problems permanently.

Boss a pain in the ass? Dead!

Landlord getting on your case? Dead!

Ex-wife a bitch? Dead!

Of course, they would never admit to such a thing. But how had they gotten away with it? They had to have connections in government. They’d certainly gotten to the jury and judge.

I’m doomed.She couldn’t hide or run indefinitely. Eventually, Blanewouldfind her. And when savings ran out, she’d end up on the streets. Ironically, the anonymity of being homeless was probably the best cover she could get on Earth. The homeless were invisible; people looked right through them—until they stepped into their feces—then they noticed them. She had no desire to live on the streets with drug addicts and the mentally ill. That posed its own dangers.

Keeping the lights off for safety, she fixed herself some hot chocolate then grabbed her MCD and settled on the sofa. Another obsessive-compulsive habit, she checked her multipurpose communication device at least a dozen times a day hoping for some good news. She had a couple of options in the works, but they were longshots. She’d applied for sanctuary on Refuge, an alien planet offering a haven to people in trouble. Hedging her bet, she’d also signed up to become a Cosmic Mates bride, which would send her to a planet far, far away. Of course, she’d have to marry an alien, but if she got off Earth it would be worth it. If one option didn’t come through, hopefully the other would.

As soon as the device booted up, she checked her messages.

Congratulations! You’ve been matched!

Omigodmigod.She stared at the subject line, afraid to read the message from Cosmic Mates. When she touched the screen, the full message popped up.

Dear Honoria Foster:

We’re pleased to inform you that you have been matched with Jason Steel, a human male, who also seeks relocation to Planet Refuge. If, upon viewing his profile, you are agreeable, check the yes box on the contract, and arrangements will be made for your transportation to Refuge, where you will meet him in person. As he has requested an expedited match, you have two days to accept this offer before it expires.

If you wish to decline the match, check the no box, and we will keep searching for a suitable match for you.

Covering her nose and mouth with cupped hands, she reread the message. Tears of relief leaked from her eyes.I have a way out!And he’s human!Desperate, she would have accepted a scaly, tentacled or half-snake alien, but a human was so much better. That he needed refuge gave them something in common.

She called up his profile and then spilled hot chocolate all over her lap as a life-sized monster of a man materialized on her coffee table in holographic form. He had a look that could kill, his expression stony and intimidating. Arms at his sides, ramrod straight, he stood like a soldier at attention, burnished, milk-chocolate-brown hard-muscled flesh packed into olive fatigues. Chiseled masculine features and piercing, cold near-black eyes were devoid of any softness or friendliness. Short, tightly curled black hair clung to his skull like a cap. But those frigid eyes.Black ice.He might be handsome as sin, but he was as scary as the devil.

I can’t marry this man.

His hologram freaked her out. What would he be like in person? His stern, hard face gave her the shivers. It was a toss-up who scared her more—this guy or Blane. She could be jumping from the frying pan into the fire by marrying him. Sure, there was an escape clause in the Cosmic Mates contract—at the end of a year, either party could annul the union without cause—but she’d be stuck with this terrifying man for a year.

But I’d be on Refuge. Surely, by then, my asylum would be approved.

She stood up. Even if the hologram wasn’t standing on her coffee table, he would still tower over her. Built like a cross between a linebacker and a wrestler, he could snap her neck with a single hand. As she studied him, he seemed to be peering down at her with a disapproving expression.

It’s just a 3-D image. It’s not real.

She closed out the hologram and hugged herself.

I’ll hold out for the next match. Or maybe my asylum request will be approved, and I won’t have to get married at all.

But what if Refuge rejected her application for asylum? And what if Cosmic Mates couldn’t find another match? What if this terrifying man was her only option in the entire galaxy?

Recent experience had highlighted her terrible judgment of character. Never in a million years had she suspected Blane was a cold-blooded killer. And this man had ‘red flag’ written all over his stony, chiseled face and hard, muscular body.

Her finger hovered over the no box to reject the match. Everyone always said trust your instincts. Her intuition warned this man was trouble.

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