Page 36 of Havik: Warlord Brides
She shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno. Maybe I want to do what you do, as a career.”
His eyes narrowed. “And what is it you think I do?”
“Run cargo.” If he was going to be an ass, all he deserved were asshole answers.
“This vessel is too small to turn a profit with cargo.”
“Space cop?”
“No.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps flexing.
Damn. Unfair.
“Space marshal.”
He did not respond.
“Space cowboy.”
He blinked. “A what?”
“Gangster of love?”
“You are putting random words together that convey no meaning,” he huffed, all teeth and bad attitude, but Thalia saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
This was so much fun. “It’s a song. You know, there’s a surprising number of songs with that title. But my point is that I can help. You clearly need help with public relations. I can’t imagine that,” she wiggled her fingers at his face, “opens a lot of doors.”
The clanking intensified below, followed by cursing. “I have to go down a level. Try not to let your flirting get in the way of this crisis. It’s fine.”
“We are not flirting,” Havik snarled.
She totally was. One hundred percent.
Thalia rested her chin on her folded arms over the back of the chair. “You’re on a secret mission from Earth, right, to catch the human traffickers—”
“Sentient being traffickers.”
“I know how criminals think.”
“Because you are one.”
His words stung, but she refused to let him see that. If he thought being nasty would drive her away, he had the wrong idea.
“If you think you’re not flirting, you are so wrong.” She winked. “Anyway, you can deputize me. That’s cool. I don’t mind starting at the bottom as long as I get a gun.” She mimed finger pistols, complete with sound effects.
His tail lashed from side to side and he growled.
“No projectile weapons! A stray shot could damage a critical system. The consequences could be disastrous.”
“I wouldn’t be aiming for a critical system. I’d aim for a critical organ,” she said, sarcasm dripping off every word. “If you don’t use guns or blasters, then what weapons do you use? I’m guessing you don’t calmly make for the nearest planet for a duel at dawn.”
For a moment, she imagined Havik in the starched cravat and the overly formal clothes of a bygone era, like out of a historical romance, and she really liked that picture. Like, a lot,a lot, especially that red tail peeking out from under a fitted tailcoat. She needed to get him into a cravat, pronto.
“Hand to hand and blades, mostly.” His hand moved to the knife strapped to his thigh, then shook his head, as if remembering that he found her annoying. “Leave. Now.”
“I want to help. Let me help.”
“You are a distraction. You cannot.” What little warmth his voice held vanished. He glared at her with hardened, cold eyes.
