Raine knew she was special enough to be a Volunteer, but mating with a dragon is a whole new kind of special.

Setting up orbital stations was lonely, but not a horrible occupation. Raine has spent years organizing computers and systems to work in harmony, but when she is sent to a spa to wait for her ride, she learns that work is not the only pleasure in life. Orell has waited for her for centuries and he is not going to let a little thing like a Terran obsession with work get in the way of him claiming his true mate. He will use every amenity at the spa to wear her down and then he will swoop in for the kill, so to speak. What is a little death amongst friends and lovers?

Excerpt:

The possessiveness in his gaze was unmistakable and her last medical check had taken longer than necessary. “I see. So you are one of the Drai sleepers that have been making themselves known of late?”

He inclined his head. “I am. Centuries of silence and then you were nestled above me for weeks. How was I to resist?”

She leaned forward, a dangerous manoeuvre in her wrap gown, and glared at him. “You are not making yourself quite clear and I value clarity.”

The server returned with glasses of water and wine, setting selections in front of Orell before placing hers in front of Raine.

He sipped at his wine and watched her carefully. “You are the female that the Alliance has authorized to be my wife. Your genetics are a baseline match and all alterations for compatibility have been made already. There is only one thing standing in the way of my courtship of you.”

She blinked. “I thought it had all been arranged.”

“Arrangements are nothing if there can be no feeling between us. Drai courtship has several stages and with you, I cannot even begin the most basic of all overtures.” He propped his chin up on his fist.

“There is a certain amount of frustration to that, but I am sure that things will be settled in the end. I simply need to engage in patience and that is something my generation of Drai excel at.”

She bit her lip as courses of food began to appear. “What are the courses of courtship?” She lifted her fork and began to tease her salad.

“The first contact is the dream. The second is the song that the male sings so that the female becomes used to his mental touch. The third is for the female to admit she has gotten the contact efforts from the male. Then the fourth is almost final. You must come to my home and approve of it as your own. The fifth level is consummation. That one is self-explanatory.”

He spread his words between bites as each sentence gave her a bit of insight into his motivation and the actions he described.

“I see. Anything else?” She sat back as the servant removed her plate and replaced it with the next course.

“Yes. The Baku crime family has placed a price on your head. Three representatives of their organization are in the outer room and if I do not hand you over to them, they will attack Yosh with all of their available ships in an effort to retain your person for their purposes.” He continued to eat the next course as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

Her mind flashed her images of the Hiral with his shark-like smile, the Prial couple with their lack of eye contact, a peculiar behaviour for a curious species. “They want me? A price on my head?”

She ate absently, her mind whirling at the danger that lurked only a dozen metres away.

“Yes. Apparently, the relay stations that you have set up are impervious to attack. They want you for the purpose of either hacking into existing systems or creating systems for them. You are quite popular in certain circles.” His grin showed extended canines.

Her smile was weak. “Yeah, who knew?”

He remained remarkably calm as she went into a spiral of confusion. As if there were no true danger, they ate their meal, course after course, in silence while she tried to find a way out of her one conclusion.

She was screwed.