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Dark and dangerous, bounty hunter Damen Cantor leaves Lea Vargas breathless. His gravelly voice rides over her like a caress, making her skin tingle and her knees weak. He’s the only man that has ever intimidated her and she doesn’t like that, but since he’s the perfect man for the job she has in mind, she’ll have to deal with it.

Born into a life of privilege as an heir to the Vargas Industries fortune, Lea has never wanted for anything until now. No amount of money can cure her beloved sister, Darya, of Lorcan Syndrome, but perhaps a Braxan healer can. Darya’s husband, Troy, hasn’t returned from an expedition to the forbidden world of Ambrax, though, and time is running out. Lea’s only hope to save her sister lies in enslaving herself to Damen Cantor and landing on the male-dominated planet, from which visitors rarely return.

Here's a short excerpt:

“Damen Cantor.” It wasn’t a question. The man who’d directed Lea here had described him perfectly. His black hair was cut short and spiky and he wore the brown vest of an independent trader. Massive hands curled around the slender glass of what smelled like bootleg vodka. The muscles cording his bare arms flexed at the sound of his name, and he pinned her with a gaze that had the same effect on her insides as if he’d jammed a hand into her panties. Her clit responded with a curious pulse, eager for an introduction, but Lea ignored the reaction.
She wasn’t looking to get laid, though later that might be part of the bargain. She certainly wouldn’t object if it became necessary to—

“I’m not interested.” His voice rode over her like molten lead, making it hard for her to move or speak.

“I-I’m not a...”

“Whore? In that outfit, Cherry, what else would you be?”

Heat rushed to her cheeks and she straightened her spine, letting her fingers trail off the dusty surface of the table. Up until this moment, there wasn’t a man alive who intimidated Lea Vargas. She would take on anyone with a set of balls to match his bravado, and she never backed down from a challenge, but Damen Cantor, bounty hunter, left her speechless.
He flicked his gaze across the bar toward the exit, a wordless dismissal.

“I want to hire you.” The words tumbled out fast, and she wished she had the strength to pick up her drink. With her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, it would be near impossible to say anything else.

His lips curled in an expression that might have been a smile or a sneer. “I doubt you can afford me.”

“Ten thousand a day is your going rate, I believe.”

He lifted his glass and took a single, measured swallow before responding. “Plus expenses.”

“There won’t be any expenses. I have a ship and I have a landing permit for Ambrax.”

Several nearby heads turned at the mention of one of the forbidden worlds, but Cantor silenced any curious murmurs with a sweeping glance of his ore-black eyes. He leaned back in his seat and scowled much like the bartender had, only the expression served to make his handsome face more sensual rather than cruel. Dark brows knit over those bottomless eyes. “Didn’t whoever put you up to this explain that I don’t have a sense of humor?”

“This isn’t a joke.”

“Of course it’s a joke.”

Lea tugged the zipper of her suit down an inch and snaked her fingers inside to where a slim pouch rested against her bare flesh. A moment later she slapped a wrinkled paper onto the table.

He gave it a casual perusal, though his gaze lingered on the official Federated seal. “You’re not the first person to come up with a landing permit. Anyone with a bucket of cash can—”

“It’s not a forgery.” Interrupting him was a gamble. Lea’s heart thundered.

“I didn’t say it was a forgery.”

“I need a good pilot and a guide. You were recommended. Do you want the job?”

He pursed his lips and stared at his half-empty glass as if contemplating another swallow.

“You’ve been mislead. I’m not a ferry service, Miss.”

“Vargas. Lea Vargas.”

“I didn’t ask your name, but since you made a point to tell me, let me rephrase my response.” He sat forward, and Lea fought the urge to step back. She probably should have used an alias, but her name usually opened doors for her. Vargas Industries, the Company, owned Soffran and ten other planets stretched across four systems. If nothing else, the name was a guarantee that she was good for the money.

“I don’t play games with rich bitches. I can tell by the look of you, this is personal, and I don’t need those kinds of complications. Not to mention the fact that I would never take a woman to Ambrax, and if you have to ask why, you should be back in your daddy’s mansion polishing your nails.”

Lea allowed herself a curse under her breath. “I’m not naïve, Mr. Cantor. I know why Ambrax is forbidden.”

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