Shade opened the door. Tess was wearing little boots and a dress. Heat shot through him. Those long legs were just what he needed wrapped around his waist.
“Hey.” She swept her long bangs back behind her ear, looking nervous.
“Hey,” he echoed, stepping aside so that she could come in. Once she’d passed him, he closed the door and threw the lock again, shutting them inside.
Tess walked straight to the counter with the register and plunked down a big pile of universal currency. “I’m sorry, I had to hold back about a hundred units to pay for the Squirrel Tree docking fee earlier tonight. You were right. It was way too much.”
Shade started to shrug. It didn’t matter, because he wasn’t going to take her money anyway. The second he’d seen her, he’d known, but she went on before he could tell her that.
“I brought you this to try to make up for it.” She pulled a small but thick book from the deep pocket of her lightweight jacket and handed it to him.
Looking down, he readTales from the Dark. Shade glanced back up, and he could have sworn she was blushing.
“It’s not in great shape because it’s old, and I’ve read it a lot, but you know Susan, and you seem to like books…”
Even though he wanted to have something of Tess’s, Shade tried to hand it back. “If it’s a favorite, you should keep it.”
She shook her head and pushed it back toward him. She also picked up the money and put it on top. “I hope this will be enough. Along with my thanks for your help.”
“Yeah, about that…” Shade put the whole pile on the counter next to her and then stepped back. “I don’t think—”
“Please,” she interrupted. “It’s all I’ve got.”
She didn’t beg, but she was sincere. And strong. And beautiful.
His chest grew tight. He wanted her in his life. In his bed. He wished she’d never walked into his shop.
“Then like I said, you should keep it,” Shade told her, sounding hoarse.
She blinked. “What?”
“Keep it. Keep it all,” he said.
“I-I can’t do that.” She glanced around, as if looking for answers somewhere on the rows of shelves.
When her blue eyes came back to him, he asked, “Why not?”
She frowned. “Because I owe you.”
“I say that you don’t, so you don’t.”
Her frown deepened. “Ido, and you have to take it.”
Rebels were always dirt-poor. Why didn’t she want her money back? “Look, Tess, I’m not—”
“Take it. Promise me you will.” She interrupted him again, which was probably a good thing, because he had no idea how to end that sentence.
I’m not who you think I am? I’m not going to hurt you? I’m not your enemy? I’m not your friend? I’m notwhatexactly? Maybe if he could decide, he’d know.
Shade blew out a breath. “Why? Tell me why. And you’re a shit negotiator, by the way.”
She smiled and seemed to relax. “You’ll take it? You swear?”
“Why?” he asked again.
“Just promise me,” Tess insisted.
“Fine.” He could always find a way to give it back later—if she lived.
