What happens when wrong and right collide amidst indescribable passion?
Jonah Fielding has been brought in to clean up the Department of Authority on Centauri. In the course of his work, he captures Kadie Frost, the young woman who managed to escape his sting operation. Kadie, an orphan, now almost destitute illegal parts runner, is shocked to find herself falling for the man who arrested her.
Jonah's world is one that Kadie doesn't understand and fears. When he offers her a deal, she agrees to help him with the investigation. Now they must fight an impossible attraction, find the bad guys, and along the way they'll even end up getting married…purely for the sake of the case, of course.
In the middle of upheaval they find themselves surprised by the scorching promise of passion while bewildered at how it all went awry. The clock is ticking and anything can happen next. Will they survive when work and pleasure collide?
Content Warning: This book contains a sexy, hot man in uniform and a wayward, hotheaded woman, as well as lots of adventure of the futuristic and bedroom variety.
The man that arrested her, Captain Jonah Fielding, she had heard of. A straight man, everyone agreed. He didn't associate with the old, corrupt Authorities. But at this point that's cold comfort. How can I possibly explain that I have nothing else except my little Sugar Plum Fairy and that's why I took the chance? Her stomach rebelled and she dry heaved right there in the cells as catcalls and laughter from other prisoners filled the air. Thank the Lights at least I am in a single cell. Her head ached brutally and she wavered slightly, waiting for Captain Fielding to send for her.
"Kadie Frost? Captain Fielding wants to see you." The clank of the cell door told her someone was coming; she struggled to her feet, lifting tired, sore eyes.
A young man, little more than a boy really, with a freshly pressed uniform marched in, unfastened her from the restraint loop, and pulled her out the door and into an anonymous corridor.
Hoots and hollers met her ears as she allowed herself to be paraded down the long walkway. As if cattle in a moon-cow yard, she thought, closing her eyes as the Authority man pulled her toward a heavy, metal door at the end of the corridor. He stopped there and she opened her eyes, reading the sign on the door.
Interrogation Room One. What a great name, she thought snidely. Really inventive.
The door opened slowly and she was quickly thrust inside. The door snapped shut behind her as she looked around the bare room. A table and two chairs sat, scarred and ugly, in the middle of the floor. The metal was cold and glittering in the cool air as the air circulators pushed currents around the frigid room. She made her way over and sat down, waiting for the captain to enter. Her head drooped to the table and she let it rest, seeking the refreshing cool on her overly hot skin.
Her hands stung and her eyes burned. She felt sorry for herself as she thought about the mess she had gotten into, and she turned her stinging hands to check the damage. They were bright red and radiated heat. The deep scratches were swollen and weepy; sticky drops of goop coated the raw skin. Never a good sign, she already knew that.
She started. Obviously, the woolly, heavy feeling in her head had overtaken her and she had dropped off to sleep as she waited. Her skin burned against in the coolness of the room.
"That's me." Her head hurt viciously, but now she realized her throat burned too.
"Captain Fielding is my name. I believe you and I can discuss BXM parts?" He lifted an eyebrow and she noted the captain had the most amazing blue eyes she had ever seen, teamed with long, black hair fastened at the back of his neck, high cheeks, and impossibly chiseled features. He had full, pink lips that would make a woman cry when they moved over hers. Huh? Where did that thought come from?
She blinked, dazed by the thought, and considered her plan of attack. "What? Oh, the BXM parts." She swallowed and felt the razor blades she was sure were in her neck slashing from the inside which then proceeded to burn. "They aren't mine. They never were."