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Faery Wedding

Page 4

by Mina Carter


  ~ End ~

  ~ About the Author ~

  Mina Carter was born and raised in Middle Earth (otherwise known as the Midlands, England). After a slew of careers ranging from logistics to land surveying she can now be found in the wilds of Leicestershire with her real-life hero and their young daughter…the true boss of the family. Suffering the curse of eternal curiosity Mina never tires of learning new skills which has led to Aromatherapy, Corsetry, Chain-maille making, Welding, Canoeing, Shooting, and pole-dancing to name but a few. She juggles being a mum, working full time and writing, tossing another ball in the air with her cover artwork.

  For Mina, writing time is the wee hours of the morning before anyone wakes up and starts making demands or any spare minute that can be begged, bought or conned. Her first stories were penned at age 11, when she used a stationery set meant for Christmas thank you letters to write stories instead. More recently, she wrote for her own amusement and to save on outrageous monthly book bills. Now she’s totally addicted and needs her daily writing fix or heads roll

  Visit her at:

  http://www.mina-carter.com

  http://twitter.com/minacarter

  http://www.facebook.com/mina.carter

  ~ Enjoy the following excerpt for Prince's Courtesan by Mina Carter ~

  He wanted the one woman he couldn't have...

  Outlawed noblewoman Jaida Lianl had been everything from a high-speed courier on Arcalis Prime to a waitress in the cloud café’s on Selenis. Different careers, different names, different identities. When a cover got this easy--so easy she started to believe it herself--she knew she’d been in the same place too long. It was time to move on before she got comfortable and started to make mistakes. Mistakes would allow Imperial Prince Sethan to find her, and if that happened, people would die…

  Now after five years, Seth has found her, and she can no longer outrun her destiny: she'll be the prince's courtesan, but he'll never own her heart…

  * * *

  Something was wrong. Jaida reached the main doors and paused for a moment as a tendril of dread wound its way up her spine. Narrowing her eyes she tried to get a look into the lobby ahead as she passed through the first set of sliding doors. She couldn’t linger here. The bay was on a time sequence. In five minutes the force field would snap off, and she’d be left trying to breathe hard vacuum. Something she didn’t particularly fancy doing.

  Rock and a hard place. She stepped forward. The doors slid shut behind her with a solid clunk. The sound rolled through her like a death knell. Her instincts screamed at her to run, not step into the reception lobby.

  “Crap, crap, crap. This is such a bad idea.”

  She moved forward to the doors and tried to peer through them as the airlock went through its cycle. She’d always thought it was overkill, what with the bay outside, but now she was glad of the delay. Trying for nonchalance, she scanned the lobby. Already her agile mind was working out all the routes out of the building.

  Miriam, the receptionist, sat behind the large flexi-glass-and-steel desk, headset on and hands moving swiftly over the holo-console in front of her. Her fingers twisted and pinched as she worked, plucking at images Jaida couldn’t see from this side of the desk.

  She scanned around, her vision panning from one side of the room to the other. Opposite the reception desk, a small group of couches sat in front of full-length windows overlooking the loading docks. Having worked on them for months, she’d have picked a different view. Even a blank wall would have been preferable.

  Nothing was out of place, not even a leaf on the expensive Terranian palms in the corner.

  “Okay, jumping at shadows. Get a grip, Jai,” she told herself as the doors in front of her slid open and she stepped through.

  “Morning Miriam, boss called me. Shall I wait?”

  Jaida headed toward the chairs discreetly hidden behind the palms. Unlike the plush couches for the visitors, these were hard, wipe-clean plastic. For the workers, people like her. The dregs of society. A long time ago she’d have sat on the couches and not thought a thing about it.

  Those days were long gone. She went to sit on the chair nearest to the lift door.

  “No. Go on up, go right in.” Miriam said.

  One eyebrow winging up in surprise, Jaida stood and headed that way. It wasn’t until the door slid shut behind her and the lift started up that she processed what Miriam had said.

  Go right in.

  No one went right into Gregaris’ office. He was an approachable guy, if a bit blunt, but even so, no one went right into his office. The sense something was wrong hit her in the gut again, stealing her breath. The lift was too small. She couldn’t escape. For five years she’d made sure she always had an escape route, always had a way out. Panic clawed at her gut and her heart climbed into her throat.

  Something was wrong. She dragged deep breaths into her lungs and forced her heart rate back down to something approaching normal. It worked, but only just. Her heart pounded and slammed against her ribcage. The sides of her neck hurt with all the tension as she battled her fight-or-flight instincts.

  Gradually she got them under control, biting her lower lip as she watched the numbers above the door count up. Sweat slid between her shoulder blades and down the valley between her breasts. Nothing was wrong; there was no way Seth could have found her here, not with all the hoops she’d jumped through to set up this identity. A lot of money had changed hands for her to get the ID and med numbers of a kid who’d died at seven but whose parents had never registered the death. Med numbers were worth their weight in gold.

  The door pinged. She gulped a lungful of air as they slid open to reveal the corridor beyond. It was empty.

  Shaking her head Jaida stepped out the lift and walked toward Gregaris’ office. Plush carpeting under her feet ate the sound of her steps as she approached the door. Her hand reached out, was almost at the handle, when she paused. A frown creased her brow.

  Something was wrong. The instincts that had been clamoring since the lobby ganged up on her and became tribal screaming. This time, she listened.

  She snatched her hand back from the handle and turned on her heel. The space between her shoulders itched as she headed back the way she’d come. She could feel the crosshairs painted on her back, a little red mark dancing across her skin like a butterfly.

  Walking past the lift door, she headed for the emergency stairs at the end of the corridor. She’d barely covered half the distance when it began to open. Her heart stilled, fluttering deep inside her chest as she started to backpedal. She knew what she’d see before the heavily armed trooper stepped through the open door.

  Time slowed to a crawl as the muzzle of the trooper’s rifle swung toward her. The red dot of the laser sight raced across the pale walls, then across her field of vision, blinding her for a second. She turned and raced for the lift, yelling and slamming her hands against the flat metal of the closed doors.

  “No. Oh please, Lady, no…”

  They’d called it back down. She jabbed at the buttons frantically as more troopers piled into the hallway. There was no way out, just the lift and the stairs currently filled by imperial guards. Or…the office at the end of the corridor, the door looming in her peripheral vision like some harbinger of doom.

  “Bollocks…”

  She abandoned the lift and raced up the corridor, grabbing at each handle as she passed, hoping beyond hope one would give. If she could just get into one of them she could find a ventilation shaft or something. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d escaped him that way.

  “Lady Jaida Lianl, by order of his Imperial Majesty, you are under arrest—”

  “Screw his Imperial Majesty!”

  Her hand closed around the last door handle, and wonder of wonders, it opened. She stumbled through and slammed hard into a solid chest. Strong arms closed around her, and with a gasp she looked up into familiar silver eyes.

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

 
; ~ Also Available ~

  Wildcard by Mina Carter and Chance Masters

  Sometimes the Wildcard beats the deck...

  Michael Thrivener is a Sniper in the Army. Just back from a deployment, he and his squad mates decide it’s time to formally reinsert themselves back into society--more specifically the female populace on Ladies Night. Unfortunately the country dive they pick doesn’t suit Michael’s mood, and he finds it hard to get in the groove with the sharp twang of country music in his ears. So he does what any red blooded male would do--he finds the bar and starts to load up.

  Enter Jasmine, fresh out of a nasty divorce and pried from her apartment by her friends for a “fun night out.” Jasmine, like Michael, is not feeling the night at all. When she comes out of the ladies room to find her friends all paired off with a bunch of soldiers, she finds herself the target of Michael's practiced charm. But it'll take more than charm for Michael to win his way into Jasmine's bed. And in the process, he might just end up winning more than he intended...

 

 

 


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