Born of Fire

He’d have to be to even look at a woman like her who was after his ass to arrest it.

And still she appealed to him for reasons he couldn’t understand. Her angry, almond-shaped eyes were closed now, but he vividly recalled the odd, golden shade. There was something very familiar about those eyes. For his life he couldn’t remember what.

Also there was something about her that reminded him of his own sister. The unique way she held her head when she defied him as if she’d faced the worst possible nightmare and still found the courage to continue life’s brutal path. Something a typical person wouldn’t notice. But to those who’d walked courageously through hell and been tested and scarred by its fires, it was obvious.

Too bad his sister had lost that courage.

Pain racked his soul as he struggled against the unrelenting grief that no amount of time seemed to dull. The sight of her lifeless body soaked in blood . . .

Regrets pounded through him and he closed his eyes, wishing he could go back and save Talia.

If only he’d been older, maybe he could have done something to help her.

Bullshit. There had been no help for either of them. He knew that for a fact and still he beat himself up with it over and over again. He hated that part of himself that couldn’t let go of his past.

But this tracer wasn’t Talia. She would never put herself in the line of fire to save him. To her, he was nothing more than a paycheck—a fugitive who needed to be returned because he didn’t deserve to live among decent people.

Whatever he did, he couldn’t allow himself to relax as long as she remained inside his home.

With that thought, Syn searched her body for more weapons to make sure she didn’t have any other means of carving him up. He did his best to ignore the soft curves under his hands as he slid them over the rough leather of her battlesuit, and located weapon after weapon.

Damn, it was like disarming The League . . .

Or him.

Focus . . .

Though she was too thin for his normal tastes, her muscles were firm, no doubt from hours of physical training. He could easily imagine how attractive her lithe body would look draped in nothing but a sheet.

His blood rushed through his veins like lava as his cock turned rock hard. “Get a hold of yourself. You’re not some horny teen chasing after the first girl who smiled at you.”

True, but there was something about this woman. Something that put a slow burn in his blood.

Yeah, she wants to beat your ass, you masochistic bastard.

Sliding his hands over her firm calf, he located a knife tucked inside her pant leg. He pulled it out and studied the intricate design.

Shit . . .

“I knew it.” The weapon in his hand was legendary. An entwined bird and viper engraved on the silver handle—the symbol of a Gondarion Seax. Only one person in her entire generation had passed Seax training.

Shahara Dagan.

Suspicions confirmed, he sighed in aggravation. You’re so going to die . . .

Shock and disgust poured through him. Well, isn’t this just typical? After months of celibacy you finally find a woman who sets your hormones on fire and not only is she after your head in the worst sort of way, she’s the treasured sister of one of your best friends.

“Just shoot me now and get it over with.” Because that would be kind compared to what Dagan would do if he found out Syn had shot the older sister he worshiped.

He balanced the carefully honed blade between his fingers and looked back at the tracer whose very name made most fugitives surrender immediately.

And no wonder, given they way she fought.

“So you’re the infamous Shahara . . .” He shook his head in amazement that such a petite beauty could inspire so lethal a reputation. “I wonder what Caillen would say if he knew you were here?”

I’m going to cut your balls off, Syn.

Yeah, that would probably be it . . .

On the good side and if Syn was lucky. If Dagan was having a bad day . . .

He shuddered.

Rolling his eyes at his typical luck, Syn placed the knife on top of the other weapons and devices he’d taken off her. He picked up her blasters and locked them, along with everything else, in the wall safe in his bedroom.

What was he going to do with her?

Unbidden an image of her writhing naked in his bed flashed before his eyes and he grinned wickedly. That was definitely what he wanted to do with her.

But hormones aside, he had to be practical.

The woman wanted to hand him over to the authorities. Seax’s were unfortunately notorious for their unshakable sense of justice and honor. And she was honor bound to take him in no matter what argument he made.

He wasn’t about to be executed for crimes he hadn’t committed and he damn sure couldn’t kill her without upsetting Caillen.

So where did that leave him?

Screwed blue and tattooed.

Maybe he should call Caillen after all . . .

Syn scoffed at the thought. If he knew his friend at all—and he did—Caillen would kill him for stunning her.

So what options were left?