They coasted in orbit for about twenty minutes until a bright white streak with blue tints came into view.

The young woman on Keiron’s three o’clock stared out the viewport, clutching the metal frame around it. Her eyes shone with wonder. She chewed at her plump lower lip as she watched the comet, visibly awed by its extravagant beauty.

Keiron watched the woman’s radiant face, paying no heed to the celestial object.

All the twenty passengers of the Pearl of Xereill were in the space cruiser’s main hall.

“Such a pretty thing,” Sir Raysten said.

Keiron had made small talk with the retired engineer from Ramoh this morning after the cruiser took off.

“Yes, she is,” he said without taking his eyes off the woman.

Sir Raysten’s titter made him bunch his eyebrows. What the—

Then it hit him. The old man’s comment hadn’t been about the woman. Like the other passengers aboard the spaceship, Keiron was supposed to be admiring the comet outside the window, not Pretty Face across the room.

Dammit.

With effort, he turned to gaze out the window. Even though the cruiser was thousands of miles from the comet, its viewports had a built-in optical zoom, which made the comet look much closer than it actually was.

And what a sight it offered! A brilliant spot whizzing through space with a stunning mile-long tail that widened behind it. No wonder Pretty Face was in awe.

“Feels like you could just reach out and touch the tail, doesn’t it?” Sir Raysten said.

Keiron nodded.

Unfortunately, the breathtaking view didn’t last long, as the comet moved much faster than the cruiser.

Keiron felt a gentle tug as the engines started a small burn. Must be changing direction and velocity for the jump. He’d never piloted a huge spaceship like this one, but the basic maneuvers wouldn’t be that different.

“Dames and Sirs, we’ll be leaping into hyperspace in five minutes,” the captain said over the loudspeaker, confirming Keiron’s guess.

Soft music filled the room.

“All you need to do is lean back in your seat and relax as the capsule closes around you,” a stewardess said.

She climbed into a vacant seat and demoed the move, her expression appropriately blissful. “You might experience queasiness, but it won’t last long.”

Sir Raysten sat back. “It’s to reduce the discomfort of the g-forces we’ll feel during the jump.”

“I see,” Keiron said politely.

When they’d chatted earlier, he’d let the old man do most of the talking. When asked about his occupation, he’d only mentioned he was in the military. Who wants to talk about work on vacation, right? Besides, there was no reason for Keiron’s travel companions, whom he’d never see again after the excursion, to know what he did for a living. His plan for the duration of his leave was to be an ordinary tourist. He hoped he’d be able to act like a regular guy who didn’t carry the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders. And to enjoy the hell out of that.

He glanced at Pretty Face.

She lowered her seat, leaned back as instructed and shut her eyes, bracing herself for the hyperspace leap.

Deciding he didn’t care what Sir Raysten might think or say, Keiron seized the occasion to admire her lovely features. As the transparent capsule lids came down, he turned on his side to have the best view of her full, beautifully shaped, and incredibly sexy lips.

They’ll kiss me—every part of me—before we part ways.

The thought had come out of nowhere, entirely unwarranted, and uncharacteristically crude. It surprised Keiron so much he missed the jump, realizing it was over when everybody’s capsules began to slide open.

“Dames and Sirs, that’s it,” the stewardess announced. “You’re free to step out of your capsules. Sickness bags are at your disposal under your armrests should you feel the need to use them.”

Some of the passengers—probably those leaping for the first time—grabbed their bags and vomited. Others had their hands pressed to their stomachs as they climbed out of the capsules.

Keiron couldn’t help but smile. When he and his guys needed to jump to another part of the galaxy for an intervention, they didn’t have the luxury of these acceleration capsules. They endured the strong g-forces in their regular seats. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, but one got used to it.

“I don’t see a wrist-cord on you,” Sir Raysten said, standing up. “The object of your scrutiny isn’t wearing one, either.”

Keiron arched an eyebrow.

The old man winked. “If I were your age, I’d try my luck.”

Should I?

It would surely fit with his whole “regular guy” act. Unfortunately, skirt-chasing was one of the few things Keiron no longer knew how to do. His sixteen years of military service—first on his home planet and then at the League of Realms Space Station—had driven the playfulness out of him. There was simply no time for womanizing in his daily life.

Not much of opportunity, either.

The cyborg women at the enforcer base were his subordinates. The organics and bionics who worked at LORSS were colleagues. He’d hook up with a woman occasionally, just to give an outlet to his sexual needs, but he always made sure she knew beforehand there wouldn’t be a second time. Because relationships demanded commitment, and he could not offer it at present.

Relationships were something he’d do later, much later. He’d get involved with someone when he retired from active service and worked a desk job back on Drecer or became an administrator for the League of Realms.

Anyway, that’s what he told people.

The truth was messier, and less easy to explain, even to himself. The truth was that Keiron had reached his late thirties and had yet to meet a woman he wanted badly enough to change the way he lived. A woman for whom he wouldn’t mind adjusting the life he’d chosen. The life he loved.

The life which, as he was recently informed by the base medic, lacked balance.

In fact, he’d signed up for this excursion under duress, because, after his latest checkup, said medic had ordered him to. She’d told him he had to get away from LORSS for at least a week and try to “loosen up.”

Provided I can remember how to do that.

“Go talk to her.” Sir Raysten nudged him with his elbow. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“I don’t know. What?”

“She’ll give you the once-over and say cyborgs aren’t her thing.” Sir Raysten chuckled. “You know, maybe she’s crazy.”

Keiron squinted at him.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Sir Raysten shrugged. “I’ve heard tales about the control and stamina of bionic men.” He winked. “I’ve also heard about that very special feature of their anatomy, and I don’t mean the wings—”

Keiron cleared his throat loudly.

“All right, all right. I’ll shut up.” Sir Raysten grinned. “If she turns you down, you can always try the flame-head over there.” He nodded toward a young woman in a bright orange top the same color as her hair. “She’s been checking you out a lot.”

Keiron had noticed. She was good-looking and smiley, but not his type.

Whereas Pretty Face… Suffice it to say, he hadn’t known he had a type until this morning, when he first laid eyes on her.

Try and loosen up, eh? Fine.

With determination in his step, he headed to where Pretty Face stood, studying the new constellations through the viewport.

Planting himself just outside of her personal space, he touched his forehead and bowed. “Hello. May I introduce myself?”

She brow-and-bowed back.

That’s a good sign, right?

“My name is Keiron,” he said. “I’m in the military.”

Goddess, I’m terrible at this.

“I’m Linni and I know who you are,” she said.

“You do?”

“You’re Colonel Keiron Yaggar, head of the LOR Enforcer Cyborgs.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “My dame is well-informed.”

“I’m an investigator. Being well-informed is a big part of my job.”

“What exactly do you investigate, ma’am? Your job means different things on different planets.”

She smiled. “I investigate for the Ittroise government.”

“Suspected fraud?”

“Sometimes,” she said. “Also, criminal use of gifts by rich-bloods—we have a lot of rich-bloods on Ittroise—and trafficking of protected species.”

He bowed his head respectfully. “Sounds like you have a diverse set of skills and competencies.”

She smiled, acknowledging his compliment.

“A rich-blood yourself?” he half asked, half stated. “Polygifted, I’d guess.”

She nodded.

“My boss is a polygifted rich-blood, too,” he said.

“The superintendent of LOR?”

“Yes. Have you met him?”

“No.”

Keiron racked his brain for something to say that didn’t revolve around his work. “Is this your first time traveling with the Star of Xereill company?”

“Yes.”

Another monosyllabic answer… He’d expected her to inquire if this was his first time, too, but she didn’t.

Those were not good signs.

Maybe Linni from Ittroise had a boyfriend back home. Or maybe—as unaccustomed as Keiron was to the notion—she just wasn’t interested in him.

All right then, he’d give it another go, and then he’d be out of her hair for the rest of his vacation.

“This trip is my first proper vacation in three years,” he said. “I’m from Drecer by the way.”

Divine Aheya, that was lame.

Then again, he hadn’t done this in ages. The women he’d hooked up with at LORSS or on Drecer were the ones that did the talking and the seducing. He was lamentably out of practice.

“Drecer, huh?” She tilted her head to the side, exposing a long, graceful neck. “You people make the best wine in the Homeland Arm.”

Hope swelling in his chest, he tut-tutted. “Please, my dame. We make the best wine in the galaxy.”

She smiled a dazzling smile that made Keiron’s heart skip a beat.

Except… it wasn’t to encourage him.

She touched her hand to her forehead. “It was nice chatting with you, Colonel Yaggar.”

And then she spun around and headed across the room.

“Everyone, please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts. We’ll be landing on Sovyda, the first planet of our unique transgalactic tour.”

The stewardess’s announcement pierced the fog of Keiron’s disappointment. He headed to the nearest seat.

Two pairs of eyes drilled into him—Sir Raysten’s, filled with sympathy, and Flame-Head’s, filled with glee.

Unsurprisingly, Linni looked out the window.

One didn’t need to be a ladies’ man to know what that meant.

Not interested. Move along, sir.