Fergal was still standing, and she swiveled her chair to look at him.

“Come here,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because I need to kiss you.”

Need—she liked that word. Was she pathetic that she wanted to be needed? She pushed herself slowly to her feet and took the single step to eliminate the space between them. This close she could smell his now familiar scent, warm man overlaid with something slightly metallic. She breathed him in deeply, resting one hand on his chest over the rapid thud of his heart.

He threaded his fingers through her hair and tipped back her head. As she stared up into his silver eyes, she saw the regret there. Regret for what, she wasn’t sure. Then his mouth lowered to hers, and he kissed her. His tongue pushed inside, and she sensed the darkness stir sleepily. Instead of fighting, she welcomed it, and it sank back down into her subconscious. She gave herself up to the kiss, pressing her breasts against his chest, her hips against his groin, feeling the hard length of his arousal.

Now was so not the time for this, but she couldn’t pull away. He intoxicated her. She breathed him, tasted him, heard his ragged breath in her ears. His hands stroked down her arms, pulling her tighter against him.

The first indication that something was wrong was the cold touch of metal against her right wrist. She went motionless, his mouth still against hers, but before she could react, he’d twisted her left wrist behind her and fastened it to the right so her hands were secured behind her back.

She took a step away from him, and he didn’t try to hold her. Staring up into his face, she could see the determination in his eyes. She rattled the cuffs, but she was held tight.

Fergal reached across and pulled the laser pistol from the holster at her waist. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I need a little time to get out of blaster range.” He flicked the switch to stun and stepped back. “This will hurt, but it also means you can tell them I overpowered you. Don’t mention you wanted to come along. Just go back to your life. Your friends.”

“I don’t want to tell them that. And you’re my friend. Please, Fergal, don’t do this.”

“I have to. I can’t take you in there. There’s a 99 percent chance that this is a suicide mission. And I don’t want you to die for me. I’ve had that once in my life, and never again.”

Who? She hated that person for turning Fergal into the cold, lonely man he was now. “Who was it?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I like you, Daisy, but I won’t let myself care for you, and I won’t let you be used against me. Besides, there are things you don’t know about me, and believe me, if you knew, you wouldn’t want to come along.”

“There’s nothing—”

He cut off the words by kissing her. In that moment, she knew he was going to do this. Anger rose up inside her, stirring the darkness, but anything was better than the despair that threatened to swamp her.

This time it was Fergal who stepped back. She stared into his eyes, saw the moment of resolve, the flash of light, and all was pain and darkness.