The only thing he was interested in wasn’t going to require any words. Well, not any coherent ones, anyway. Not that she was looking for anyone to talk to. The last run for her father hadn’t gone well, and she’d ducked into the bar to avoid seeing him. He probably wouldn’t say anything about it, and he couldn’t be more pissed at her than she was at herself. But he’d get that look. The one that said she’d disappointed him. And she hated that look more than anything. Would rather he yelled at her.

So, leaving the bar with the infamous Qaelan Forster hadn’t really been about him at all. It’d been about avoiding her father. And for the fact she was sick of her demon princess- of-hell reputation. Sure, it was well warranted, and she’d always thought it didn’t matter that a bunch of people who weren’t significant thought she was an unfeeling callous bitch who believed they were all beneath her.

But for some reason, tonight it had gotten to her. Qaelan Forster had been there, and she couldn’t deny the tall, dark haired, blue-eyed captain was seriously hot, just like she’d heard. Kissing him to shut up a few morons up hadn’t been a chore at all.

In fact, it’d been the exact opposite. An instant fire had lit up her blood, and while initially she’d been planning on ditching him as soon as they got outside, now she was trying to remember the last time she’d let anyone get close to her. It’d been almost two years ago, that gorgeous blond waiter she’d seen a handful of times passing through a space station not too far out of the Belt.

Claude had been the first and only casual relationship she’d had. She’d thought if it wasn’t serious, then her father would be less likely to interfere or threaten anyone. Turned out she’d been wrong. He’d still managed to have a hand in messing things up. Truth be told, her heart hadn’t been in it, so she hadn’t been all that devastated.

Though her handful of other relationships had been short, she’d never had a one-night-stand with a complete stranger before—usually she was at least somewhat familiar with her partner.

And she couldn’t actually remember the last guy she’d been serious about, not clearly anyway. Her father had probably gotten him killed, or banished him, or some equally ridiculous overreaction. The second she ever looked at a guy twice, her father was plotting murder and mayhem. She glanced at Qaelan as they silently walked through the bright, night-lit streets, people spilling out of all kinds of establishments or shopping in the bazaar. Life in Tripoli never stopped. The party just kept rolling on.

Qaelan had his hands in his pockets, casting her glances every now and then, probably trying to figure her out. Men were always trying to figure her out. It annoyed the crap out of her.

For half a second, she considered cutting him loose again. Her father favored Qaelan and his even-more infamous cousin, Rian Sherron. He’d be seriously pissed if he found out Qaelan had touched her, let alone anything else. But maybe that favoritism would mean Qaelan would simply get banished, not dead. And that would only happen if her father found out… 

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