he asked.
The neat line of her eyebrows had lowered and she peered at him, inspecting his clothing and boots. “How do I know you’re a marshal? You could be one of those traffickers.”
She had a point and he couldn’t blame her for questioning his credentials. If he was to gain her cooperation, he had to give her proof.
He pursed his lips, trying not to smile and cocked his head to one side. He’d much rather keep her awake and congenial than argue with her. The company of an attractive woman was proving to be too good an opportunity to miss, even if it meant twisting the finer procedural points to prove who he was. It wasn’t as if she had a violent record or was part of a vicious gang; if anything she might provide him with a decent conversation, a better one than the pedantic computer. If she respected his authority, maybe she’d show it, save him the hassle of dealing with bad behavior. If she didn’t, well, he would deal with it—discipline was the cornerstone of his training.
“All right. This way.” He gestured further along the corridor toward his quarters. “In there.”
Chapter Two
The gun hadn’t shifted its aim from her chest, neither had his firm grip on its butt. Mason towered over her, his shadow filling the space between them and it cast his eyes into darkness. She spied the sparkle in them, though. Something had amused him about her request—a fleeting smirk passed over his face. Whether she trusted him or not, at least he seemed to have a sense of humor, which surpassed her expectations of a law enforcer.
The chamber he took her into was his private quarters. She froze on the threshold when she saw the bed. It wasn’t the typical cot a solitary man slept in; instead it was similar to a marital one, providing plenty of space to sleep two or three people. On the other side of the square room was an old-fashioned desk with a flat surface for resting things on and a bank of small monitors.
“Sit at the desk.” He nudged her back. “I want to show you your arrest warrant.”
She tried to ignore the wobble in her knees as she sat, bunching her shaking fingers into fists on her lap. He leaned over her to reach the touch screen, grazing his shoulder against hers, and she bristled with goosebumps. What should feel like fear was more like trepidation—she smelled his warmth, the masculine flavors she’d chosen to forget, and her senses battled to contain their excitement. It had been a while since a man had laid his finger on her.
The image of her face on the screen alongside the formal warrant appeared genuine, re-enforcing his role as a marshal. There was also a brief summary of his service record—she glimpsed the words ‘exemplary’ and ‘committed,’ amongst his decorations for valor.
Stepping away from the desk, he activated a hidden panel and the sliding door exposed his wardrobe. He tugged on a uniform, flashing the crimson fabric and epaulets on the shoulders.
“Rank of marshal. This is my dress uniform, which I’ll wear in court when you’re indicted for your crimes. Satisfied?” He closed the door.
Jade had little choice but to agree that he was who he claimed to be and that his authority was unquestionable. The confirmation meant she had to comply or face some kind of sanction, but what would that be? She hated the idea of being chemically hypnotized, especially if she couldn’t respond or offer resistance.
“Yes. For now,” she added haughtily.
He claimed her elbow and drew her up. “I’ve given you slack, young lady, you’ll not get any more. If you resist my authority, you’ll have to deal with the consequences. Let’s find out what you’re carrying.” He propelled her toward the door, back into the corridor.
“I’m not carrying anything,” she retorted. The hold of her ship was packed with contraband, none of it narcotics or gems. “You saw my charge sheet; I’m not part of the drug scene.”
“That warrant was based on last known activities. It’s out of date. I have to ensure you’re not branching out.” He punched the key code on the door and it opened to reveal a medical room.
“Here?” Unlike the gray metallic walls of the corridors, this room had white paneling and floors. It also had a few cabinets, a mirror, and a trolley bed. She noted the straps for restraining limbs.
“Yep. Cavity search protocols require a clean room and I need to use the internal medical scanners.”
She swallowed hard, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up—cavity? Internal? “I thought this was a strip search.”
He sealed the door behind them. “I’m required to be thorough.”
She laughed nervously, trying to pretend she wasn’t concerned. “You can skip over the internal part, can’t you?”
“I’ve skipped enough on protocols just letting you walk in here unrestrained. No more circumventing, Jade. It’s time to accept you’ve been mixing with rebels and criminals. If you want to play with the big kids, you’re going to have to take the repercussions. Now, I’m deactivating the gun. Only my palm print can reactivate it. If you misbehave, I have other ways to keep you in line. Understood?” He holstered his weapon.
She nodded.
“Jade, yes or no? Do you understand?”
“Yes. I get it, okay?” she snapped.
He frowned. “We’ll work on that disrespectful attitude later.” He folded his arms across his broad chest. A hint of his tattoos poked out from under the sleeves of his shirt. “The easiest one first. Open your mouth wide.”
Jade parted her lips a fraction.
Mason took a step forward. “Wider, Jade. I need to see that you haven’t hidden anything between your teeth. Lift your tongue. Good. Now clench your teeth hard. False teeth are often used to hide drugs.”