(MSRP: 14.9900)
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She thought she was hired as a housekeeper; he thought he was buying a wife. When Katherine Rawls witnesses a murder, no place on Earth is safe, so going offplanet is the only answer. When a group of Domestics is transported to a pioneering planet, Katy goes along, taking the evidence with her. Tritomis-2 is a place of contrasts, beautiful, primitive--ox-drawn wagons plod along as Federation Drones speed by overhead--and dangerous, but Katy's certain she can manage until it's safe to return home. Her new boss is sympathetic and protective, and his ranch, Three Moon Station, is fairly isolated. When she learns that the contract she and Sarkin Trant signed isn't an Employment Agreement as she thought, but is actually a Marriage License, she's certain she's traded her previous predicament for danger of another kind, for Sar has fallen in love with his newly-purchased bride and is determined to woo and win her. Resolved to bring the killers to justice, Katy nevertheless finds herself succumbing to Sar's gentleness, humor, and affection, not knowing that her pursuers have discovered her hiding place, and now both she and her would-be husband are in jeopardy.
Rose
PRINT ISBN 1-60154-388-3
(356 Pages) Rating (spicy)
Excerpt
With startling swiftness, the bidding began, voices calling from all sides, and that one voice she didn't want to hear, gave its bid, higher than the rest, so high all but two of the others dropped out immediately.
Katy bit her lip to keep from screaming as Alwin Marsten fixed her with a black stare that told her he was determined to have her.
The bidding reached five hundred. One of the two remaining bidders dropped out. Marsten and the other battled another hundred and fifty Credits higher. At five hundred and seventy-five, the other bidder gave up. With a triumphant smirk, Marsten started toward St. Clair.
"One pound of angelica and no more bids!"
St. Clair dropped his gavel. It spun around, rolling off the podium top, and he bent to retrieve it.
"Did I hear correctly? One pound of angelica?"
"And the bidding stops," the redhead answered.
St. Clair sighed.
"Mr. Marsten--you heard? Your bid?"
Marsten looked at the redhead. "A pound of angelica? Prove you've got that much."
The other man reached into his pocket and held up a second pouch. Untying the strings, he shook several white rocks onto his palm.
Marsten's lips tightened in anger.
"Well?" St. Clair prompted.
"You know I don't have that kind of money!" Marsten snarled. "Let him have her." He looked back at the redhead. "You'll be sorry for this. We're not finished!"
Flinging himself through the crowd toward the hitching post, he untied his horse, mounted it and rode away.
