Ten moon cycles transporting doomed prostitutes from Earth to Callisto, and sampling the goods had never crossed Magistrate Blade Kevlar's mind.

Even if he had the right, he hadn't ... Until now.

Blade admired the rise and fall of the prostitute's luscious breasts, the cautious wonder on her angelic face, and the flow of her feminine curves emphasized by the tight leather outfit. She had the longest damn legs he'd ever seen on a woman. Most appealing of all, she didn't give him a "thirty guinos a blowjob" expression when he looked her over.

Uninterested in his appraisal, her gaze shifted around the stark room processing every inch of its surroundings. Not much to take in, other than his judge's bench and the view into space. Still, the others hadn't given a damn where they were.

"State your name."

The woman looked him over with wary green eyes and pursed lips, her gaze lingering on the black bands around his forearms decorated with the insignia of magistrate. His deputy, Atlas, nudged the detainee.

"Uh, Thea Stone. Where am I?"

"You're on the transport shuttle Decree."

"What?" Her gaze slid to the oblong window port where stars, planets, and asteroids streaked past at light speed. The lovely felon quirked a brow. "I've been abducted by an alien?" She almost smiled.

"I'm as human as you are, and you've been apprehended, not abducted. I don't usually time travel--"

"Time travel. This gets better and better."

"--but since I followed my errant sister into your century, I put my time there to good use." Blade repeated his verdict by rote. "As Magistrate of Colonization, I've appropriated you for deportation to the Jupiter moon, Callisto."

Stone's eyes grew wide and she cast a sidelong look of incredulity at Atlas. Without a doubt, she thought he was delusional. With a slight shake of her head, she looked back at him, her expression carefully blank. "No magistrate I've met presides over a courtroom without a shirt. And last I heard mankind has only visited one moon--Earth's."

"Times have changed." Blade glanced down at the summary displayed on the inlaid bench monitor. "Your arrest record indicates you've been charged with drug possession and prostitution. Those are sufficient grounds for your presence here." No need mentioning he'd pulled her away from death's door and saved her pretty ass for a better life. In her present she would have died tonight.

An arched brow inched high. "Those charges were dropped, Magistrate. I'm not a prostitute, I'm a ... ah ... waitress."

Blade looked over at Atlas who shook his head. "The historical archives indicated she's been everything from a street hooker to a high class call girl," his deputy reported. "Sixteen arrests for solicitation, five charges of drug possession in four years."

A rock dropped into Blade's gut. For once, he wished a detainee was not as she appeared. "Does she need to be processed through the detox unit?"

Atlas shook his bald head. "Although it's documented she associates with drug addicts, she's surprisingly clean. Her med scan registers 'Uncontaminated' across all zones."

Stone glowered at him. "What kind of kangaroo court is this? You have no proof of a crime. No one read me my Miranda rights. I was assaulted, drugged, and kidnapped. I have no legal representation. And I've been convicted without a hearing." She jabbed a finger in Blade's direction. "You're not a magistrate. You've kidnapped me because I stepped on your cartel's toes. You're a hit man. A..."

"No, I am not." Blade admired the defiance in this woman, missing from the impassive prostitutes he usually transported. If he was going to break his rule against screwing his payload, Thea Stone was the woman Blade wanted. He'd been so wrapped up in his job and his sister's disappearance he hadn't fucked a woman in forever. Time to correct that oversight.

Blade sat forward, resting his forearms on his desk. "Once, I might've been considered a mercenary." He let that sink in for a moment, but she simply crossed her arms over her chest, expressing no surprise. "It's in my blood. I come from a long line of Scottish outlaws." Blade didn't know why he felt compelled to explain himself to her. Must have been because Stone reacted differently. And he wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her. "Then I saved a councilman's daughter and you could say the councilman saved me. Now I'm going to redeem you."

"I don't need redeeming, thank you."

Blade raised a brow. If he'd left Thea Stone to her own devices, she'd be dead by now, along with the other thirty-some women he'd picked up. But he wouldn't share the gruesome details of her death with her. "On Callisto, you have the choice to continue your trade for a period of one year or bond with a mate. If you choose to work, at the end of your sentence you can bond with a mate, establish a mercantile business, or relocate to another new settlement."

Atlas shoved a screen modulator into her hand and Blade explained it. "Press the sim button to see the men interested in a life mate."

After a long look at his serious expression, she glanced down at the screen mod. "Sim button?" Stone began pressing them all. She gasped and looked up at the realistic hologram of Mate #1 as he introduced himself.

The man leaned against a customized transporter. "My name's Clave. I work at Drill Site 459XP. When I'm not there, I build transporters that'll make you scream, baby. If you like tinkering with big toys"--he winked--"pick me." Clave faded away and a Vaperian welder replaced him.

The detainee stared in open-mouthed shock. "It's a 3-D movie..." Blade stifled a chuckle when she stalked to the image and poked him in the back.

Her hand met with his flesh. "Oops. Sorry." The welder finished his spiel and faded. Stone's winged brows fluttered in confusion. Another man replaced the welder. She jabbed the man and stepped back, her brows drawing into a deep frown. "How are you doing that?"

"Styson imaging."

"What?"

"It's the recording, storage, and transmission of molecules through sound waves, invented by Stanley Styson in 2206."

Stone muttered, "This is not real." She lifted her chin. Scowling at him, she pressed her fingers against her temple. "You've drugged me."

"Only with a dose of docile spray, and based on your responses, it's worn off. Besides, it doesn't give you hallucinations. This is real, Stone. Welcome to 2347."

Lips pressed together, Stone studied the holograms, her gaze slipping to the window every few seconds. At the end of the testimonials, she turned to Blade. Wary acceptance dulled the light in her eyes for a brief moment, then indignation sparked. "This is bullshit."

"I will need your decision within twenty-four hours." Time he planned to use seducing the strong-willed woman.

"I'm not guilty of anything," she shrieked. "I have a job to finish. Take me back!" The incensed prostitute rushed toward the raised judicial bench.

A look of surprise crossed Atlas's dark brown face. Automatically, he raised his atomizer.

"No!" Blade shouted. Too late. The docile spray dropped Stone mid-leap, rendering her unconscious.

Blade rounded his desk and checked her pulse.

"She caught me off guard," Atlas apologized. "The spray is set on the lightest dose."

Blade nodded. She was coming around already. "Okay, Atlas. I'll handle her from now on." Blade tipped his head toward the door. His deputy gave him a curious look and left.

Gathering the woman in his arms, Blade left his courtroom and headed for his quarters.

The hazy image of a Scottish Highlander materialized before Thea's eyes. Bronze skin, sleek black hair falling over his hulking shoulders. Dark inscrutable eyes watched her closely from beneath heavy brows. A nose looking like it had been broken several times flared when she blinked him into focus. A mustache drooped over wide masculine lips, blending into a trim beard.

Her fantasy man. Familiar, yet out of place somehow.

He sat beside her prone body and brushed her hair off her cheeks. The colorful tattoos on his muscular torso shouted for exploration. Odd hieroglyphics were stamped above his collarbone. A mythical creature slithered up his arm to his shoulder. Over his heart, a knife embedded in a diamond. No doubt a story behind each one.

Thea reached up, tracing the intricate lines drawn on his smooth chest. Her palm flattened over his thumping heartbeat.

This had to be a dream. But this man breathed. His skin was warm, firm.

Where did she know him from? Ingrained suspicion made Thea drop her hand. Where was she? Nothing looked familiar. She lay in a strange bed. What the hell happened to her? She blinked hard. Her migraine could kill a bull.

"Your head will clear in a minute," the gorgeous brute said, running his hand down her arm. "Relax." His deep hypnotic voice captivated her.

"You're beautiful," Thea responded in a passionate haze.

He smiled and it lit up his face. "So are you."

Thea wanted to worship at his feet. Her gaze shifted down his flat stomach to his low-slung, silky black trousers. The heavy bulge at his crotch shifted and a long outline emerged against the fabric, distending upward until the head caught in the draping folds of fabric. Thea flicked her eyebrows up in female appreciation.

Good God, she wanted to possess his cock. When would she ever have another opportunity to fuck such a magnificent male specimen? Without seeing the stiff rod in the flesh, Thea knew it would fill her to the brim. She wanted it, imagined taking its bulk in hand and stroking the pliant flesh, down to the base and up over the bulbous tip, making him as hard as rock. After a few firm strokes ratcheting his heartbeat into high gear, she'd guide his thick length into her--and watch Magistrate Kevlar's eyes dilate with burning lust.

Magistrate Kevlar.

Shit. Now she remembered.

"Stone? Do you want me?"

Her gaze darted up, keying in on the hungry edge in his tone. "Yes," she said without thinking. What the hell had been in that spray?

He leaned over her prone body as though he meant to whisper in her ear. Thea jerked when his lips caressed her shoulder.

"Wait!" She grasped his bulky biceps, her arms weak, processing his superior strength. Thea felt sensually sluggish, but clarity rolled through her aching head in waves.

Damn it! She'd been abducted during the most important case of her career. Months tracking the man responsible for her mother's death and she'd be damned if she would let Joe Fowler slip through her fingers. If she didn't find a way out of here, Fowler would be selling addictive drugs to other unsuspecting, depressed women while Thea lay on her back with her legs spread. Shit!

"Too late." The brush of his soft mustache raised goosebumps on her flesh.

His careful assault was so unexpected, so out of character, Thea didn't know how to react. Was this how men treated whores? She doubted it. So what game was he playing?

"This is sexual harassment," Thea snapped, hiding her excitement behind a veneer of loathing.

"I have the right to inspect the cargo if I want to." His tongue slithered up to the sensitive spot beneath her earlobe. "But you can file a complaint when I'm done--if you want to."

Thea's protest died on her lips. She knew damn well the complaint would go nowhere. Despite the pressure she applied to his upper arms, Thea tilted her head, allowing him access to the sweet spot on her neck.

Magistrate Kevlar barely touched her, but Thea clenched her thighs together against the gentle throbbing between her legs.

His teeth nipped her neck. Thea gasped at the sting and the soothing licks that followed. Her breasts swelled at the thought of taking this man's cock inside her. Oh God, she was in trouble.

His thumb flipped open the top buckle on her bustier.