The only thing wrong with Racer was the hostility that simmered just below the surface whenever he and Severance came in contact. No one, not even that professional gossip, Georg Craft, knew what had dissolved the partnership three planet years ago, but whatever it was, it had been traumatic and probably violent. Everyone was amazed that one of them hadn’t made sure the other suffered some sort of unpleasant accident over the years. Perhaps they avoided it by taking pains to avoid each other.

Cidra responded warily to Racer’s cheerful conversation. She used formal politeness as a facade behind which she could hide while she analyzed the man. If Severance disliked him as intensely as Desma seemed to think, there had to be a reason. But for the life of her Cidra couldn’t find anything particularly jarring or dismaying about Cord Racer. He seemed quite pleasant.

“How long will you be here on Renaissance?” she inquired politely during a short break in the conversation.

“I’ll be leaving soon. Got a run for QED. Is it true you’re on crew contract with Severance?”

“Quite true.”

“Mind my asking exactly what you do for him? I mean, I have a ship the same size and class as Severance Pay, and to be honest, they’re a one-man operation.”

Desma spoke coolly. “The nature of her work on board is hardly any of your business, Racer.”

Racer shrugged. “Just curious.”

“It’s all right,” Cidra said quickly, sensing the tension in Desma. “I’m doing some programming work for him. In return he’s providing me with free passage.”

“Ah, I get it,” Racer said easily. “A business arrangement.”

“Exactly.”

Desma made another attempt to take hold of the conversation. “Cidra, it’s getting late. We should probably be heading home.”

“You’re staying with Desma?” Racer asked, ignoring the older woman.

Cidra nodded, smiling. “That’s right. She’s been most gracious. I’ll be at her place for the next few days while Severance picks up some mail and arranges some delivery contracts.”

“Desma, here, is a very nice lady,” Racer said agreeably.

“Desma,” announced Desma in tones of foreboding as she looked over Racer’s shoulder, “may have just made her worst mistake of the season.” She smiled weakly. “Hi, Severance. Cidra and I were just about to leave.”

“I know.” Severance sounded very sure of that fact. He arrived at the table and stood looking down at Cidra. He didn’t even glance at Racer. “I came to escort you home. Let’s go.” He reached out to put his large hand under Cidra’s arm and hauled her unceremoniously to her feet.

“Severance, please!” Cidra was mortified by the rudeness.

“Take it easy, Severance,” Racer said coolly, climbing out of the chair he’d been straddling. “Maybe the lady isn’t ready to leave yet.”

Desma got uneasily out of her seat, paying the tab quickly with a credit slip.

“The lady works for me,” Severance said, still not bothering to look at Racer. “And I say she’s ready to leave. Aren’t you, Cidra?”

“There is no need to be so impatient,” Cidra hissed, aware of his fingers digging into her arm. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were going to spend the night on board the ship.”

“I came to tell you that there’s been a change in plans. I’ll explain outside.” He flicked a glance at Desma. “Are you coming?”

“I’m coming.” Desma stifled a groan as she saw the embarrassment on Cidra’s face. “You could be a little less heavy-handed, Teague.”

“And you could use a little more judgment, Desma.”

“Severance!” Cidra was more than embarrassed now. She was shocked. “This is my hostess. You will not talk to her in this way.”

“Forget it,” Desma advised. “I’ve heard worse. Let’s get going.”

Racer stepped closer to Cidra, his blue-green eyes concerned. “Are you sure you want to go with him, Cidra? Just because you’re under contract doesn’t mean you have to let him ride you this way.”

“Stay out of this, Racer.” Severance finally deigned to glance at Racer. His eyes were full of warning, and something else. Something that might have been contempt.

“If the lady wants my assistance, she’s got it.” Racer returned the contempt with a rough hostility.

Cidra realized immediately that she was not the issue. She was the catalyst both men were using to confront each other. The tension in the air was almost palpable. The two Wolves were circling each other, searching for openings and excuses for battle. She had to put a stop to it at once. She smiled tentatively. “It’s all right, Racer. I really must be going. It’s been pleasant chatting with you. Perhaps some other time?”

“Any other time,” Racer stressed, his eyes locked with Severance’s. “Any other time you want.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Severance advised. He turned away, more or less dragging Cidra with him. Desma followed without further demur.

Cidra waited until the three of them were out on the street before she gave way to her feelings of humiliation and anger. Then she rounded on Severance. “I have never been so thoroughly embarrassed in my entire life, Teague Severance. You have the manners of a torla. You should be ashamed of yourself, and if you’re not, it’s only because you don’t have the sensitivity to manage it! How can you possibly excuse such ill-mannered behavior?”

“I won’t bother to find any excuses. I don’t have to find any excuses. I’m your employer, remember? And this is a direct order: Stay clear of Racer.”

“You’ll have to provide a reasonable explanation for such a ridiculous order.”

“As long as you’re oh crew contract I don’t owe you any explanations. Want to terminate the contract right now? Your option.”

“Easy, Severance,” Desma advised softly.

Cidra threw herself back into the argument. A temper she had never dreamed existed seemed to be bubbling alive inside her. It was as if the hot, humid air of the planet had stirred the heat in her veins. “Don’t you dare threaten me, Severance. I demand a full apology for the scene you created in that tavern.”

“You’re not going to get one. Make up your mind, Cidra. Are you under contract or not?”