Runner: The Fringe, Book 3 (33 page)

“So? It’s not like we can’t do it again. And again. We have all the time in the world now.” Kissing him, stroking his face, Jynx realized Foster didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. Let me explain.” Foster pulled Jynx to him and wouldn’t let her get out of bed.

“You’re leaving again, aren’t you?” Fury pinched her features.

“Yes.”

She tried to wriggle away, and he finally pinned her to the bed.

“Listen to me.”

“No. Is this what it’s going to be like with us? Me forever waiting and worrying if I’ll ever see you again while you keep working for Michael?”

“Damn it, Jynx, it isn’t going to be like that if you’ll just let me explain.” Looming over her, he said, “I ain’t letting you up until you listen to me.”

Realizing the futility of struggling against him, Jynx relaxed her body but continued to glare at him.

“While I was away, some very interesting events took place that you don’t know about. With Roberts. Ah, I see you’re willing to listen now.” Foster let up on her and pulled her into his arms. “The IWOG thinks Roberts caused all of that destruction at the courthouse. Where once she was lauded as a hero for blowing you away, now it looks like she was trying to shut you up from implicating her. Apparently, some rather interesting information came to light about Roberts after we left. They now think she was in cahoots with you.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Pretty sweet, huh? Hoist by her own petard.” Foster laughed. “And it gets better. They want her back so she can stand trial for her crimes against humanity. Guess who they want to bring her in?”

Her forehead wrinkled up in confusion; then her eyes and mouth simultaneously went wide. “You?”

“Yeah. Sweet, huh? For double what they paid me to bring you in. How’s that for payback?”

“I—that’s—disturbingly ironic.”

“Are you okay with this? I haven’t signed the contract; we’re still just negotiating at this point. But you have to understand that the IWOG might very well torture then kill her. I wanted to make sure you were okay with that.”

Trouble darkened her face.

“Jynx, if you’re not okay with this, then Michael has agreed to keep her imprisoned here. Hell, he was so impressed with you, I think he’d do anything you asked him to.”

“This is going to sound so cold, but she deserves whatever they do to her. It’s her own fault. So, yes, I think you should do it, but for triple what they paid for me.”

“Greedy are you?”

“Not so much. The thing is, they can well afford it, and we’re going to need money in case the IWOG does decide to spread the Tyaa plague around.”

“That possibly occurred to me, that they want her back so they can finish running what she started, but I don’t think so. The media got a hold of Roberts’s bonafides, and every channel on the Tasher is flashing them around. If the IWOG tries to spread the plague, everyone’s gonna know where it came from. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have it ready in case we get wind of something.”

Strutting, preening, tipping his hat with a grin, Foster Nash escorted a bound Victoria Roberts past a spectacle three times as chaotic as what Jynx had suffered. Media pundits could barely be heard above the rabble of the screaming masses.

“You look like a swaggering caveman.” And Jynx loved every second of his bad-boy act, especially since this time, she was on the other side of the drama. She could have watched the spectacle live over the Tasher, but one glimpse of Foster made her burst into incomprehensible tears. Michael had turned the unit off and distracted her with an intriguing board game. Now that Foster was safely back on Windmere, she felt able to view the downfall of her rival. Watching Victoria get her richly deserved comeuppance, especially while Jynx was perfectly comfortable in Overlord’s lair, was sweet indeed. A month ago, if someone had told her this would happen, she would have laughed herself simple. Even though she could never go back to her old life, she didn’t really want to. She had good, honest work here on Windmere, and she enjoyed her coworkers. There was only one lingering question

“I look like an idiot.” Foster clicked off the vid and settled back on Michael’s couch. They were staying in his palatial home until they sorted out their living arrangements.

“Hey, I’m watching that!” Jynx clicked the vid back on. “You don’t have to watch if you don’t want to.”

“Neither do you.” Foster tried to grab the remote, but Jynx held it out of reach.

“No, but I will. I couldn’t be there to see it live since I’m supposedly dead, so let me enjoy my moment here.” Watching Victoria stumble along the gauntlet, her hair a mess and her makeup smeared, was immensely satisfying. After what that woman had put her through, Jynx felt no shame for enjoying Victoria’s misery. To be hated and hunted for crimes she didn’t commit, to almost die at the hands of her tormenter—this was the least satisfaction Jynx could have. Once the doors of the courthouse closed behind Victoria, her real torture would begin.

“That hat looks silly on me.”

“It covers up your shorn locks, though. You couldn’t run the risk of anyone recognizing you from the break-in at the Port Belle courthouse.”

“That’s why I picked Banna as the delivery place. I haven’t been there for a long time, and I thought it was fitting to take her back to the scene of the crime.”

“Isn’t that the courthouse where she was supposed to receive her valor award?”

“Yep. Nice touch, huh?” Foster considered the vid. “I look like an idiot.”

“A great big hulking sexy idiot.” Jynx flicked the vid off and curled up in his lap. To make his apprehension look convincing, Foster had waited three weeks after he’d returned to Windmere and finalized his contract with the IWOG to take Victoria Roberts in. He’d been gone only a week in travel time, but it felt like forever to her. “No more work for a while, okay?”

“Well, there is this one other contract.”

Jynx sighed and peered up at him. “What now?”

“A marriage contract.”

“What?”

“Surprised you, did I?” Nuzzling her neck, Foster said, “Pardon me, Miss Brennan, but would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

As much as she wanted to jump up and down, and possibly burst into tears, she found herself taking a page from Michael’s book. She had to know his reasons. “Why?”

“Because I want you.” Foster answered automatically, right from his heart.

“You want to marry the fat lady?” Jynx touched her expanding belly. Now well into her pregnancy, she seemed to have ballooned up overnight. No matter how unattractive she felt, Foster didn’t seem to notice. Since he’d gotten back, he was tracing a finger along her neck, her shoulders or down the crevice of her bottom every time he had a chance. He said he simply couldn’t keep his hands off of her.

“I got a powerful urge to contract you.” He held her gaze as he kissed her lips. “I’ve got all kinds of ideas on the particulars, but I’m willing to debate the finer points.”

“You’ve never failed to deliver on any contract, have you?”

“Nope.”

Jynx bit her lip as she looked to her belly. She couldn’t make a decision based simply on her own needs. What about her son? That hesitation of Michael’s still bothered her, because she still didn’t understand what he’d read that she didn’t see.

“I want him to have my name, Jynx. I want that very much.”

The romantic part of her heart swelled, but she found herself asking, “Why?” Again, she had to know. “When Michael was reading us, he said my child wasn’t yours, which—”

“He read that I didn’t care who the father of your child was, because I was thoroughly in love with both of you.” Foster kissed her forehead and then her belly. “I wanted to be with both of you.”

Relief and joy caused her eyes to water.

“A boy needs a father.” He twined their fingers together. “My father was a good man. I never went hungry or lacked for anything, but he was never really there. Even when he was physically present, his head was still at work.”

“My father was like that too.” She squeezed his hand. “If I had stayed on an IWOG world, I fear I would have been that way.” But here, she could have a fulfilling career and time for family. If she was very lucky, she could have it all.

“I don’t want it to be like that for our kids. I want to be there.”

“Kids?” Her heart skipped a beat.

“Sure. Three or four. ’Course, I expect to be in on the ground floor for the rest.” Pulling her tight, he kissed her head. “Why? You don’t want any more?”

“I do, I just—I guess I never thought of you as a family man. Especially not to another man’s child.”

“Too much of a grunting Neanderthal, am I?” He laughed.

“At least you’ve stopped carting me around over your shoulder.” Oddly, she missed being carried that way. It was arrogant, possessive, and surprisingly intimate.

“Mainly because I don’t want to pop you.” Nuzzling her neck, he stood, taking her up with him. “Want to marry a very bad man who corrupted the IWOG lady right out of you?”

“Did you ever think of it the other way around?” She trailed her hands up his chest, smoothing his blue T-shirt over his muscles. “That I corrupted the ruthless, brutal, vicious bastard right out of you?”

His eyebrows rose. “Never thought of it that way. But you’re right. You sure enough did. So, what’s it going to be, lovely lady? Yes or no, stop or go.”

“Go.”

Mindful of her belly, he spun her around in a happy circle. “You understand that I’ll never, ever, let you go?”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from Never-Fail Nash.”

About the Author

Creating unique worlds is Anitra Lynn McLeod’s forte, combining unlikely genres such as historical, fantasy, futuristic and erotic into a steampunky—and steamy—brew. Reading, writing, and white-water rafting are the three things she enjoys the most.

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Look for these titles by Anitra Lynn McLeod

Now Available:

The Fringe

Thief

Overlord

Onic Empire

Wicked Empress

Dark Empress

Far Too Human

His planet is his prison…and only she can set him free.

Overlord

© 2011 Anitra Lynn McLeod

The Fringe, Book 2

After a year, Michael “Overlord” Parker finally knows who’s been pilfering his black market goods. Astonishingly, the elusive Bandit of Taiga isn’t a man. It’s a woman, an infuriating spitfire who’s half in love with “Overlord,” Michael’s overly romanticized reputation.

Remarkably Average Mary exudes an intoxicating scent that Michael can’t quite puzzle out, even with his unique ability. As long as she remains bound and blindfolded, he has the advantage—and the bonus of tormenting the bane of his existence.

Mary’s deceptively innocent face has never failed her. Yet somehow she’s ended up at the mercy of a man she knows only as “Commander.” His demands are simple. Surrender her methods of banditry, or surrender her body. As his essence invades her intuitive ability—and her remaining senses—she becomes increasingly frantic to escape before she yields all that and more to her compelling captor.

Their sensual sparring ignites, and Michael finds himself wanting to erase Overlord’s myth from her fantasies in favor of the real man. But first he has to foil the slippery little devil’s escape attempts. And find out who’s been using her to unknowingly help the empire wipe him off the face of his own planet.

Warning: This futuristic romance contains a planet-owning alpha hero, a feisty heroine who can swear in over thirty languages, a side-kick with a crackleseed addiction, witty repartee, epic space battles, sensual karate, and tight black leather pants.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Overlord:

Overlord eyed her speculatively. “You preach to me of not selling your honor, yet think I should walk away from one who steals from me, for you only steal a little bit. Would things be different if I were to steal only a little bit from you?”

He had a good point. Not that Mary was likely to admit it anytime soon, especially to him.

“Honor is as honor does, is it not? Explain to me how you stealing from me is honorable, but me stealing from you isn’t.”

Fidgeting in her chair, she flushed. “I guess the difference is, I steal because I have no other option. I’m a bandit by circumstance, not choice. If you could steal my honor, that would be one thing, but you seem to be of the mind you can buy it.
That
is what is insulting.”

His sleek eyebrows rose, but he said nothing.

“I’m sorry I stole from you. If I could give your goods back, I would, but I can’t because they’re gone. Keeping me prisoner isn’t going to get your goods back, and I’ll never tell you where they went or why.”

His eyes narrowed, but still, he said nothing.

“My honor may be a bit rusty, but my loyalty isn’t. If I tell you, it’s not my life that’s at risk. One person, me, for all the rest?” She shrugged. “I’m willing to make that sacrifice.”

“Are you the leader?”

She froze as she searched for a diversion.

A slow, quirky grin slid across his face. “You
are
the leader.”

“So what if I am?” She belied her trepidation by standing. “I don’t see how that helps you.”

“Really?” He sat and rang the crystal bell with an insistent clink.

The young girl popped her head out of the kitchen.

“More wine, Clara, and dessert.” When the girl retreated, he pointed one massive finger. “Sit down and we’ll discuss the matter over dessert.”