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I swallowed the disbelieving scoff that tried to escape, hunching down in my chair as my guts chose that moment to cramp with fresh discomfort.

Gabriel opened the manila folder and began skimming through the contents page by page. He rested an elbow on the table, absently clicking the expensive-looking pen held loosely in his hand as he flipped pages.

“Hmm,” he said. “Yes. This all seems to be in order. Please sign, both of you. You have the addendum ready, Mr. Casick?”

“That’s the one where you contract us to model for your company, right?” Elijah asked, still dutifully playing his role.

“That’s right,” Casick said condescendingly. “Can’t have the one without the other.”

We initialed and signed, though the shakiness of my hand was bad enough that a jury might have had a difficult time proving the signature was actually mine. When we were done, Casick took the completed contracts and settled back in his chair with a satisfied smile.

“There, all finished,” he said. “Such a lot of fuss over nothing.”

“Indeed,” Gabriel replied blandly. “Thank you for brokering the deal. You should know that I have a craft set to rendezvous with the Titania in two days. As much as I appreciate your hospitality, we’ll be departing as soon as it arrives.”

Casick frowned, his smug expression collapsing. “Leaving? That’s...” He searched for a word. “... highly irregular.”

Gabriel gave an unconcerned shrug. “I don’t see why. Our business here is completed, isn’t it?”

Casick glanced down at the contracts in his hands. “Well, yes, but—”

“Excellent.” Gabriel cut him off. “I’ll inform the captain once I have a firm ETA. Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Casick. Now, I believe Ms. Hope is feeling unwell. Perhaps you could excuse us.”

Casick gaped like a fish for a couple of seconds, and if I’d felt less like death, I might have enjoyed it. At Gabriel’s pointed look, he rose and stammered something about informing him of the details before we left. Gabriel escorted him out of the cabin and returned a minute later, looking grim.

“Well, that’s done.” He gave me a critical once-over, and his frown said he didn’t like what he saw. “With luck, Curran will have those rendezvous details for me tonight—” he began.

Unfortunately, my stomach chose that moment to flip-flop like an amusement park ride. I scrambled for the eleganten suite, and barely made it to the toilet in time to empty my stomach contents into the cool porcelain bowl.

SEVENTEEN

Curran

“BOATS. IT JUST had to be a bloodyboat, didn’t it.” I scowled at the gently rolling blue waves surrounding us in all directions.

Onyx looked up from the charts spread out on the desk. “I told you to take some Kwells for nausea before we left, old man.” The Australian accent—barely softened, even after several years spent in London—added an extra layer of snark to the pronouncement. “If you’re seasick, it’s your own fault. Also, it’s a sloop, not a boat. Boats don’t cost this much to hire.”

“I’m not seasick,” I groused. “I justdon’t like boats.”

Onyx made a scoffing noise and went back to the charts. I suppose I was lucky my fellow bodyguard had a background in sailing, otherwise I would have been stuck hiring additional crew to run the damnedsloop. And considering we were likely to have an omega in heat on our hands on the way back to port, I was happier not having to deal with strangers in close quarters.