Queen of Swords by Katee Robert When the cards tell Ophelia Leoni she's supposed to marry the Prince of Hansarda, the gunrunner grits her teeth and boards the starship that comes for her. It doesn't matter if the ship's commander is the gorgeous stranger she just spent a wild, drunken night with. As a Diviner, she's painfully aware the cards don't lie. Ever. Boone O'Keirna knows Ophelia is trouble the second he sees the way she moves. Not about to let the little hellcat marry his sadistic half-brother, Boone pretends to be the Prince's emissary and kidnaps Ophelia. Too bad they can't be in the same room without him wanting to throw her out an airlock–or into bed. Even as they fight each other–and their explosive attraction–Ophelia and Boone sense something is wrong. Too much is going their way. Soon, they realize while the cards may never lie, the truth is sometimes hidden between them...and the future king of Hansarda is not one to take defeat lying down. New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Katee Robert learned to tell her stories at her grandpa's knee. She found romance novels at age twelve and it changed her life. When not writing sexy contemporary and speculative fiction romance novels, she spends her time playing imaginary games with her little ones, driving her husband batty with what-if questions, and planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse. Queen of Swords A Sanctify Novel By Katee Robert, Heather Howland Entangled Publishing, LLC Copyright © 2012 Katee Robert All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-62266-412-2 CHAPTER 1 Ophelia Leoni stared into her glass, wishing she could will it full again. Sadly, it didn't seem too interested in helping her out, and the empty bottle at her elbow wasn't doing her any favors, either. By all rights, after that amount of liquor, she should be flat on her back or passed out in a corner somewhere. It had barely made a dent on the grief dragging down her shoulders, trying to suck her into the ground. Two weeks. Such a short time in the grand scheme of things, but it felt like she'd gone through a war. Being responsible for the loss of her entire crew and ship would do that to a woman. And if the only way she could get through the night was to drown her sorrows in the clear liquid brewed on Keiluna, so what? It was her way of dealing with things, the censoring looks she got from Mama notwithstanding. But she wasn't going to be drinking away a single damn thing with an empty bottle. A quick glance at the harried waitress told her all she needed to know — she wouldn't be helped any time soon. And she needed another bottle as quickly as possible to quiet the demons inside her, ready to take their pound of flesh as soon as she lowered her guard. She'd do damn near anything to escape them for a little while. A sweaty sex session might be just the thing to cure her problems, but she couldn't bring herself to go there. Not now, not with some man who couldn't begin to breach the chasm that'd opened up inside her. She sighed. Acquiring more alcohol meant abandoning her comfortable booth and braving the crowded tables to refuel. Normally, it wouldn't be a problem. This was her booth, and if anyone was idiotic enough to try to take it from her, the bouncer Hans would have no problem shoving them out the door. It was family tradition, after all, since her parents had met in this exact booth a very long time ago. But she liked it there. It was far enough back into the shadows that no one bothered her, and she was able to pretend she wasn't sitting there, drinking by herself and grieving. If she got up, she was undoubtedly going to have to talk to someone. There was no help for it. She had to shore herself up and make the trip. Ophelia took a fortifying breath, grabbed her empty glass and bottle, and headed for the bar. She barely made it three steps before some jackass stepped in front of her. He was like most of the clientele The Hammer had started attracting in recent years — young, pretty, and human. And, if the glazed look in his augmented, twilight-blue eyes was any indication, three sheets to the wind. "Hey there, pretty lady." Did that kind of lame come-on actually work on women? She made herself look at him, from his synth-leather pants to the V-neck shirt that seemed cut to show off as much as his scrawny chest as possible. Even depressed and aiming to get completely blitzed, she still had some standards left. This guy sure as hells wasn't up to them. "Go away." When she stepped to move around him, the world swayed a bit. Thank the Lady the liquor was finally kicking in. It wasn't enough to spread blessed numbness over her pain, but the bar took on a vaguely shiny look that said she was heading in the right direction. If only this dick would get out of her way. Instead, he stepped in front of her again. "I wasn't done talking to you." Then he made his last in a long line of mistakes that started with dressing himself like an idiot. He grabbe