“All right. You can go but under my conditions.”

He seemed to be waiting for an answer so she hesitantly said, “Mmmkay, what?”

“You will go, but you will go with a guardian.” Vera’s bubble of laughter had him glaring at her harder.

“Vane, I’m twenty-seven, not a child. I don’t need a parent to chaperone me to the dance.” The corner of his lips fought to hide a smile.

“No, but you’re going into what could potentially be enemy territory. I’m not sending my sister alone. You’ll have a guardian.”

She laughed loud and hard. “Who? Not you, not Rome. A sentry? You’d risk losing territory protection for this, this little negotiation.”

“You know it’s not a little negotiation, Vera. No, you’ll go and he will be your guardian.”

Vera followed the direction he was pointing at even knowing where it was going, but hoping that if she followed its path, she’d find the Cookie Monster, Hannibal Lector, hell, anybody, there besides Jackson. But as soon as her gaze landed on him, her stomach did a little flip, and her mouth fell open. No, no, no. She couldn’t go with Jackson.

“Absolutely not,” she said briskly. She was not going to negotiate a treaty with vampires when this stupid human didn’t even know they existed, well, probably anyways.

“Hear me out, Vera. This could be a prime opportunity for Jackson to prove the error of his ways in the past. This could be a chance for him to salvage his relationship with Rome.”

Oh, no. Rome was nodding gravely as if he’d already jumped on the let’s-torture-Vera bandwagon.

Rome met Jackson face to face. To give the human credit, he didn’t back down but actually looked strong and sturdy as if he’d stand a chance in a fight against a lykaen. Stupid human.

Sexy human too. He was tall with short, buzzed hair and a short growth of hair on his face. Vera felt her body growing hot and quickly staunched the flow of desire before she did something stupid like drool.

“Jacks, I know I’ve been pissed, but what do you think of this. You help my sister—” Vera snorted and didn’t bother to hide it. Rome and Jackson sent her a quick look before continuing their evil plan. “You take care of her and protect her on this trip, and I will forgive you of all past transgressions. It will be forgotten.”

The air grew absolutely silent. Everyone held their breath looking from one man to the other. Vera’s grip tightened on the lawn chair. Please say no, please say no.

Jackson nodded slowly as if coming to a realization. He stuck out his hand and it was met with a hard, vigorous shake, and then Rome clasped him into a hard, brutal hug. Vera was surprised the human’s ribs didn’t snap from the pressure. Rome must be going easy on him.

When they broke apart, they both were full of grins. The tension dissipated like it never happened. Vera grumbled and lounged back in her seat.

“I’d be happy and honored to take care of your sister. Anything for you, brother. Semper Fi.” Rome smiled and clapped him hard on the back. “Semper Fi,” Rome said.

“Just what is it I have to do? Where am I taking her? You mentioned an ambassador position. Is this lykaen politics with the government or something?”

Vera stiffened in her seat and waited to see Jackson’s reaction. Rome cleared his throat, then took a swallow of his beer, then when that wasn’t good enough he chugged the last half the bottle and tossed it away.

“Yeah, well, you’ll be Vera’s guardian when she goes to negotiate the Kategan’s peace treaty with the vampires.”

Jackson quirked his head to the side. “The Vam whos?” Vera was biting her lip so hard that she had to look away and cover her face to keep from showing her laughter.

“The vampires.”

“Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

Rome grinned from ear to ear. “Oh, it’s exactly what you think it is, brother.”

This was all some joke. It had to be. It was payback organized by Rome, and this whole charade would end with a camera crew jumping out at him say “aha!” Yeah, that was closer to reality than vampires were.

Fuck, his head throbbed like a disco club, any harder and Vera would hear it in the seat next to him and start dancing. Nah, she didn’t look like the dancing type. Even in her soft, floral dress that teased her knees, he knew she wouldn’t be some hardcore clubber type. Ballroom, waltzing, spinning around on the tips of her little feet, that’s where she’d be, and she’d looked just as elegant and posed as she did driving.

Jackson rubbed a hand over his face. There had to be something wrong with him. Since when did he go comparing women’s clothing and dance styles? Yeah, never was the fucking answer. There must have been something in that barbeque. Damn if there wasn’t something about Vera Kategan that just tweaked his ass. The woman had the uncanny ability to make him feel like nothing more than scum on the bottom of her strappy little heels.

He really didn’t like that feeling. It was the same feeling he’d had when he’d first entered the military when he hit eighteen. The drill sergeant shouted in his face spraying spit with ever “sir” and “at attention” he said. He’d stood up to him, stared him back in the eyes, and screamed his part right back. He’d shown his drill sergeant he did indeed have a pair of balls—big ones in fact. Even as he stood up his in sergeant’s face, he’d felt the cruel stabs of insecurity. Could he get through this? What if he wasn’t strong enough? What if he tripped over his fucking feet while doing PT and sent the whole line tumbling down the fucking hill?

Christ that woman had barely said ten words to him since they arrived in St. Louis and already he was anxious as a busybody old lady. He should be happy, hell, thrilled even. He wasn’t one for idle conversation. But dammit, women talked to him, loved talking to him, even if it was only to pull his cock out eventually. He used to hate it. His face was square and hard, his body strong and lithe. He had to keep it that way for his job.

When he was younger, he hated that he didn’t have to work to get laid. It was too easy. He almost felt like a cad taking it when it was offered.

Shit, he wasn’t any better now. He’d almost fucked Rome’s ex Sandra when he should have been on guard. God did he fuck up. He strove for perfection in his job. The instance with Sandra was the fuck up of his career. He still couldn’t believe he did that. Just thinking about it didn’t make sense; it must have been someone else who betrayed his friend to try to get some quick tail.

And what defense did he have? A pathetic one, that’s for sure. He hadn’t known Sandra was his ex fling, and he sure as shit didn’t know she was working with Conlin, and even if he had, it was no excuse. He never should have left his post. He’d fucked up royally, but he was 100% on board with fixing Rome and his’ relationship. The man had helped him when he’d still been in the darkest part of his life.

“God dammit, will you say something already?” Wow, smooth move Jacks. She glared at him, but whatever. It was basically her fault anyways. “Well?” he prompted, when she remained quiet.

“I didn’t have anything to talk about before, and I still don’t. Unless that is you want to talk about how much of a jerk you are.”

Jacks didn’t even try to hide it, he grinned big. Why the thought of pissing her off made him happy, he didn’t know, but that must be a very bad sign. “Why am I jerk?”

She looked at him, astonished. “Seriously? ‘God dammit, blah blah blah blah.’ You don’t remember just saying that to me. It was a borderline growl and shout, by the way.”

He turned to look out the window so she wouldn’t see the laugh he was fighting. If only she wasn’t her then maybe he could stand her. But all it took was one look at her fancy dress, shiny shoes, and pearl necklace to know she was so not for him. He needed a woman who could comfortably eat at a burger shack, not five-star dining. She'd probably eat five filet mignons in one night and clean him out of the bank in a week.