Three to Tango

By Ali Atwood

Remy Adara has been waiting for a chance to even the score with Jett Vega—he’s the hotter than hot ex-lover who hung her out to dry, causing her to lose her dream job with Starfleet Galactic.

Fate takes a surprise swing when Vega contacts Remy and wants to talk. While she journeys to confront Vega, Remy runs into Bric Rayder, a Starfleet instructor she’s lusted after for years. It turns out that Jett and Bric know each other, and there’s more to the hunks than meets the eye...

• Language: English
• Publisher: eXtasy Books Inc
• Release date: Feb 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781771117890

Ali Atwood

ALI ATWOOD is a transplanted Brit, living the outdoor life in Florida. Her previous careers could fill a catalogue—everything from flight attendant to ice cream parlor owner. Since Ali has traveled over much of the world, she draws from that knowledge to create unique characters and backdrops. Aside from writing, Ali enjoys horseback riding and golf. She has eclectic taste in music, a fondness for French champagne and a slight obsession with social media. Ali welcomes comments from readers. EMAIL: [e-mail]

Book preview

Is she a pawn in a complicated game, devised by the two men fueling her illicit fantasies?

Remy Adara has been waiting for a chance to even the score with Jett Vega—he’s the hotter than hot ex-lover who hung her out to dry, causing her to lose her dream job with Starfleet Galactic.

Fate takes a surprise swing when Vega contacts Remy and wants to talk. While she journeys to confront Vega, Remy runs into Bric Rayder, a Starfleet instructor she’s lusted after for years. It turns out that Jett and Bric know each other, and there’s more to the hunks than meets the eye…

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Three to Tango

Copyright © 2014 Ali Atwood

ISBN: 978-1-77111-789-0

Cover art by Scott Carpenter

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by eXtasy Books

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Smashwords Edition

Three to Tango

By

Ali Atwood

Chapter One

First Shasta Boc System, Orbital Station 54

15 June 2126

Remy Adara was not sure what would happen when she came face-to-face with Jett Vega again. His brief message had offered no clues. If you come to my home on Corvus, you will learn more about past events. He’d signed it JV and included an access link for prepaid transport.

Remy’s first instinct was to tell him to go to hell, but she was curious. Why, after eighteen months of silence, had he decided to talk to her now? She considered it might be a ploy, but figured if Jett Vega had wanted to harm her, he would have done so long before now. The deciding factor was closure. She needed to put the painful episode behind her—

Approaching station five, the monorail’s address system announced. Passengers for out world departures please disembark here.

Jerking her thoughts back to the present, Remy stood as the pressurized monorail slowed and stopped. She retrieved her small duffle bag from the stowage compartment and waited for a woman with two small children to move ahead of her to the exit.

Stepping onto the concourse, Remy paused to glance up at the large status screen, noting that her connecting flight to Corvus, on the Gala Ventura Liner, was listed as on time, due to depart at 1030, two hours from now. Weaving her way through the crowds of travelers, jabbering in a dozen different languages while flight information came through the public address system, Remy hurried toward the boarding area to be met by a smiling crewmember wearing a blue tunic over gray trousers.

Good morning, madam. Thank you for choosing Gala Transport for your journey today. May I please see your documentation?

Remy handed him her travelpak containing her ID card. He ran it through a reader, returning it with a bright smile. You’re on B deck, madam Adara, compartment eighty-three. And your transferred luggage… He tapped the reader screen. …is already in your cabin. I just need your fingerprint for key surety.

Remy moved toward the square unit he held out and placed her forefinger on the red-lit porthole. Are we still on schedule? she wanted to know.

He gave her another bright smile. Yes, traffic control has cleared us for an on time departure. Enjoy your journey. As he spoke, his gaze shifted to the passengers queuing up behind Remy.

Stepping onto the walkway to board the ship, Remy saw a small non-human form droid waiting at the entrance. The air jets beneath the droid’s rectangular form kept it hovering a few centimeters off the floor, allowing for speed about the ship. Welcome aboard, it greeted in its hollow techno voice. I’m here to guide you to your cabin. Please follow me.

Ten minutes later, on B deck, Remy placed her forefinger in the security porthole outside her compartment while the droid waited behind her, making humming and clicking sounds as if assessing new data from its controller. As soon as the entrance panel swished open, the droid zoomed away on hissing air jets.

Walking into her cabin, Remy dropped her duffel bag and looked around the spacious compartment, decorated in steel gray and blue. She judged it to be three times the size of the quarters she’d occupied when she was a communications officer with Starfleet. When she crossed to look in the bathroom, she noted it contained both sonic and wet freshener-cubicles. Bathing with water in deep space was a real treat. So far, the vessel had certainly lived up to its luxury liner rating—meaning Vega hadn’t skimped on the transport he’d booked for her. When her pulse quickened at the thought of seeing him again, she blocked his mental image and moved to unpack, reminding herself that he had probably given her as little thought as possible since the incident.

Two hours later, after she’d showered and dressed in a burgundy-colored outfit that went well with her fair coloring, Remy stood in front of the full length mirror, turning sideways as she adjusted the top’s gathered waistline. She was always worried in case she looked like a fat ass. No matter how much she dieted or exercised, her backside refused to decrease in size. In her teens, her younger brother had teased her mercilessly, saying her butt must have been born first and the rest of her had grown around it. On the other hand, nature had given her a good set of boobs to compensate. Looking down at them, she adjusted the scoop neckline, so she didn’t show too much cleavage. Then she moved closer to the mirror to fluff her freshly washed hair and check that she hadn’t applied too much shadow to accent her blue eyes. Normally, she never spent more than ten minutes on