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“Show-off,” she muttered.

Then she turned, threw her empty mug into the recycler intake, and walked deeper into engineering without looking back. The mug arched through the air, hit the intake dead center, and dropped straight in with a metallic clunk.

He whistled. That was some seriously impressive aim. He really wouldn’t want to see her throw a blade. Well, he would. Just not at him. And given the way she’d just looked at him, it would definitely be at him.

“Follow me,” she said.

He glanced toward the engineering bay. “Where are we going? Somewhere private so we can resolve this?”

She stopped and turned to look at him over her shoulder, one dark eyebrow arching high enough it nearly disappeared into her hairline. “Resolve what, exactly?”

He grinned and motioned between them. “This sexual tension thing we have going on here.”

The silence afterward was impressive. He’d spent enough time in combat briefings to recognize the sort of quiet that came immediately before an explosion. She stared at him, eyebrow winging up a little further, and he had no idea where any of that had come from.

He’d never spoken to a female that way before.

Well. Apart from the few females on the Reaper crew, he’d never actually spoken to many females this much before. Usually they knew what he wanted. Or they knew he was dangerous, a mercenary from one of the premier crews in the sector, and they either stayed well clear, fell at his feet… or into his bed.

Her expression was flat. “Were you dropped on your head at birth?”

He frowned. “Huh? No, not that I was aware of, anyway. Why?”

She blinked and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Okay. So you’re just making a special effort to be an idiot today then? Wonderful.”

His grin faded a little. “I’m not⁠—”

“Come on.” She turned away again, already walking. “We need to fetch some supplies. You can make yourself useful.”

He followed her out of engineering, ducking beneath a pipe that almost took his head off. He glared at it for a second. This draanthing place was beginning to feel less like a ship and more like a death trap built by people with a grudge against taller males.

She led him through the cargo bay, pausing only long enough to check the door display. Frowning at one of the readings, she slapped the side of the panel with the heel of her hand. The warning light flicked to green.

“See?” she said. “Threats and violence. Very effective.”

He chuckled. “Remarkable engineering technique.”

“Don’t start.”

He smiled and ducked through the airlock after her, following her down the corridors. This side was entirely different from the loading bays. Passengers hauled luggage behind them as they hurried toward airlocks. Emerging from docking corridor twelve, they found themselves in a large hall. A pair of station security officers stood near the central concourse, watching everyone with the blank boredom of males waiting for their next coffee break.

Rann pulled his cap lower. “Where are we headed?”

He’d memorized some of the station layout from his little… interaction with Kenton.

B started toward the tram platform on the opposite side of the hall. “Commercial sector.”

“Good,” he said, falling into step beside her. “I need to pick up some personal supplies anyway.”

She glanced sideways at him. “You do?”

He shrugged.

“Back-to-back jobs recently, so I’m running a bit low on the essentials. And I wouldn’t want to stink the place up,” he said, thinking on his feet. He didn’t have supplies because he’d been expecting to babysit the Lady’s Dream’s shuttle rather than taking a trip and even if he had brought anything with him, it would all have given away that he wasn’t anything close to human.

“Good idea,” she said as they stood on the tram platform. “I wouldn’t want you stinking the place up either.”

He gave her his best easy smile. She didn’t even blink.