Pivoting away, he snagged one of the double-bulbed flutes of Big Sky Sparkle™. Ikaryo had explained that the heavy gas beneath the upper liquid provided a transitory mild intoxication along with its beautiful shimmer.
“Not drunk,” the bartender had assured her. “I confirmed across all the passengers’ biology, chemistry, and other metabolic processes.”
There was a lot to know about extraterrestrial matchmaking.
Ellix turned to the gathering. “Welcome aboard the Love Boat I,” he said in his deep, reverberant tone. “We are delighted”—he sidelonged the briefest glance at her—“to have you here for the maiden voyage of the Big Sky Intergalactic Dating Agency’s Cosmic Connections Cruise.”
“No maidens here, I hope,” called somebody from the other side of the salon.
Amused sounds rippled through the crowd. Felicity smiled even as she identified the heckler: Remy McCoy, an Earther woman who’d won a cruise ticket through her brand-new IDA profile. The tall redhead was too far back for Felicity to see her button, but there was an undercurrent to her voice, something not exactly happy.
Well, if everyone in the universe were already exquisitely happy, there’d be no place for an intergalactic dating agency, would there? And that would mean no place for a speed-dating cruise director.
Still, Felicity surreptitiously tapped out a note-to-self to circle back to McCoy for special attention and a quick review of potential adverse intoxicant interactions, while the captain continued his welcome speech—properly friendly, she had to admit.
Maybe a little too friendly? A few of the passengers were studying him with undue interest.
She checked herself, hard. Of course they were interested. He was the captain. He was speaking.
And he was unduly attractive, she had to admit, if one were interested in large, golden, alien lions with a few fascinating scars and one piercing golden eye.
She checked herself again, even harder. Because he was specificallyhercaptain. Notherher captain, but…
Oh no, her brain was spiraling, right here where everyone could see her and probably knew what she was thinking. Sure, she’d discretely covered her feelings button, but what if they could see through her datpad shield to the blaring insecurity she was hiding? What if they were all telepathic and she’d forgotten to read that part of their files and they were secretly laughing at her? What if—?
“Isn’t that so, Miss Felicity?”
Startled, she glanced up at him. And judging from the devilish gleam in that one eye, he knew she hadn’t been listening. “If you say so, Captain Nehivar.”
“That’s the spirit,” he murmured.
And pulled her into his arms just as Ikaryo started the music.
Choosing songs for all the different guests had been tricky. Luckily, there were transgalactically popular tunes known to billions, and it was common enough for certain dances to trend across thousands of worlds with beings of various morphological configurations enthusiastically writhing, pulsing, jittering, and contorting to the latest craze.
And it just so happened that the first song was one she knew.
“Why do Earthers alwaysfallin love?”
It took her a few steps of Elvis’s crooning about why he couldn’t help it to believe she was dancing with an alien while a shimmering sun eclipsed behind a ringed moon. “We don’t always fall. That’s just one phrase in my language. Sometimes we catch feelings or have a crush, or say ‘I’m crazy for you’, or ‘I’m head over heels’—which I guess is also kind of like falling.” She realized she was babbling and forced a chuckle. “Actually, it all makes love sound a bit chaotic, doesn’t it?” Trying to hold onto her composure, she kept her tone light and curious. “What is the Kufzasin version of realizing you might be tempted into a lifelong romantic match with someone?”
“You don’t already have that noted in your datpad?”
Was he mocking her? Yes she had the device with her all the time, but there was a lot to know in space! Stiffly, she said, “Since we’ve no Kufzasin guests aboard, I don’t have the relevant data in my hands right now. So I’ll have to take your word for it.”
He didn’t answer for several steps then huffed out a breath. “Our word for it is”—his deep velvet voice broke into an even lower octave, the syllables reverberating through her sternumlike a timpani roll, even as the translator in her skull suggested simply—“the devotion.”
It seemed to echo in her chest, as if her bones had absorbed the alien word, and her pulse beat along with it. “That sounds…intense.”
Under her hand, his shoulder tensed. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never indulged it.”
Awkwardly, she glanced away from him, as if she were studying the other passengers who were following their lead and coming to the dance floor. “Yeah, I don’t actually know what love feels like either. Maybe we’ll get to see it in action tonight. I mean, notthatkind of action. Obviously. We’re here for a three-sunset cruise, not one-night stands.” Oh god, why was she still talking? She chuckled, even more awkwardly. “Anyway. Where’s your feelings button?”
“In my pocket. Where it must stay if you demand that I appear happy and friendly.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Is it so bad being our captain?”
He paused, almost imperceptibly, but since they were moving together, she felt it. Just as quickly, he regained the rhythm. “It was easier when I was captain of a long-haul freighter. Suvan was the only other being aboard, other than his goblhob, and as you might’ve noticed, he doesn’t require much interaction.”
