Maybe she could have a fun time this week despite not matching to Treylon. Rosalie had a few fantasies about the two of them in bed but she knew herself and she couldn’t be intimate with a man without developing feelings. Afraid the feelgood was lowering her inhibitions, she told herself nothing was going to happen between them tonight. Besides he was rude. He may be a great dancer but that doesn’t make up for his behavior earlier.
The heel of her secondhand shoe broke off and only Treylon’s strong hold kept her from taking an awkward tumble. Embarrassed she undid the straps while he fended other couples off from bumping into her and then she hobbled off the dance floor to the table with him right behind.
“We should probably call it a night,” he said, watching her sink into her chair and put a hand to her forehead.
The room was swirling around her and waves of hot and then cold swept over her. With horror she realized her stomach was upset. “I shouldn’t have had all those pretty feelgoods,” she moaned, clutching her middle.
“Probably not. You do seem like a lightweight drinker and those pack a punch,” he agreed reasonably. “Grab your purse and we’ll go check out the bungalow we’ve been assigned.” He caught the attention of one of his friends on the dance floor, where another slow dance was going on and pointed at himself and then to the door.
Rosalie revived slightly once they got outside into the fresh air but had to hobble on her broken heel. “Is it far to the rooms?”
Treylon swooped her into his arms and headed in the direction of the hotel and bungalows with ground eating strides. “Too far for you to limp the entire way.”
“I’m sorry about this,” she said, resting her head against his chest and closing her eyes to reduce the vertigo. “I don’t usually drink but this whole thing tonight, having to find a man I’d never met, all the people, the noise…it was so stressful.”
Chapter Two
She was passed out. Treylon shook his head and adjusted her slight weight in his arms and finished the walk to the bungalow which had been assigned to him and his match. He’d requested to be given a dwelling removed from the central area for privacy’s sake and when he arrived at the designated place, he was pleased. There were several small cottages in a loose curve following the line of the beach, surrounded by trees, with the jungle’s edge not far away. Pressing his palm to the door portal, he gained entry and strode through the living room to the short hallway beyond. All the accommodations included in the special Ardannan arrangement were two bedrooms, as his people had been adamant no one was to be forced into a one bed situation. It was strictly up to each couple how much or how little intimacy they shared on this extended ‘date.’
He took his sleeping partner to the second bedroom and laid her on the bed. She didn’t stir. He removed her remaining shoe and found a light throw to place over her. “You’re going to have a hell of a headache in the morning, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I hope this place has headclear on hand.”
He took another look at Rosalie, dreaming peacefully. She was quite pretty with masses of unruly curls and a trim figure. Something caught his eye and he leaned closer to see a badly frayed patch on the hem of the sparkling cocktail dress, which had been neatly mended. He went to the closet where the resort’s robos had hung all the guest’s clothes and sifted through the small collection of garments, eyeing them closely and finding more evidence of wear and tear. The bathing suit was last and while he enjoyed picturing her in its flattering green and blue lines, it too had obviously seen better days.
Treylon moved to the large bathroom and found the headclear he was seeking in the cabinet. He arranged an inject, a glass and a carafe of water by Rosalie’s bedside and then left the room for good, turning out the light.
Going to his own room, he changed into comfortable sweatpants and a tee shirt before picking up his handheld and placing a call to Goff Delain, the man in charge of the entire resort planet and his contact for this whole Ardannan undertaking at dating humans.
“Good evening, your highness.” Delain seemed to always be available, urbane and smooth. Treylon wondered if he was real or merely a high functioning AI. He’d heard the Sectors had developed incredible AI technologies, particularly for running complex spaceships and facilities. “How are things going so far with you and your people?”
“Overall good. I’m making notes on a few things. For one, your bartenders need to be more straightforward with the women about how powerful the damn drinks are, especially whatever the hell the pink-and-green concoction is.”
A small frown passed briefly over Delain’s face. “Noted.”
“I need you to do me a favor but I’ll pay for it,” Treylon said. “I want three human women to receive a gift certificate tomorrow morning with their breakfast, good for a thousand credit shopping spree at the clothing boutiques in the village. No, considering your high prices, better make it a 2500 credit voucher.”
“May I ask who the women are?”
He supposed Delain wanted to remind him each Ardannan could only have one date. As if he needed to bribe women to have an interest in him. Treylon wasn’t vain, he knew he was considered quite a catch on his own planet and certainly would be here too if his status was known. “Two can be randomly selected so I don’t care what method you use. Call it an extra perk of being an attendee at this social event. The third is to be my match, Rosalie Lenox.” He wasn’t about to explain himself or his motives to Delain.
It didn’t fit his image to feel sorry for someone who obviously was in desperate straits financially and had come here with secondhand, rundown clothing. He supposed he could be accused of not wanting to be seen with a woman in a frayed dress and shoes too big for her but that wasn’t his motivation. Any woman on his arm was elevated in the public eye by his attention, whether she knew it or not. He felt sorry for her and figured in the daylight the inadequacies of her wardrobe would be obvious to anyone who looked closely. He didn’t want Rosalie to be embarrassed. Besides, nothing was going to come of this week as far as a match was concerned so he could at least provide her with a fun shopping trip as a treat. She could take her new wardrobe to Earth with her.
And why he cared, he couldn’t say. Up to this moment he hadn’t given the slightest thought to the expectations and hopes a human woman might bring to this arranged ‘date’ of theirs. He’d developed a surprising amount of protectiveness toward Rosalie since they’d danced. She was so tiny and obviously painfully shy. Even the feelgoods hadn’t alleviated her anxieties much.
After a brief discussion of a few other unrelated points, he ended the com. Going to the kitchenette, he made himself a cup of Terran coffee, which his people found irresistible now they’d been introduced to it and were seriously studying the cultivation of the beans for themselves. No reason for Old Earth to have a monopoly. He checked on Rosalie again. She’d turned on her side and kicked off the covers, so he replaced the fringed throw and left her snoring slightly.
He always had a full queue of messages and business to take care of so he went to his room and dove into the issues at hand. Not the evening he’d planned for his first night on this date but maybe it was for the best. Less complicated than spending more time one on one with his assigned human.
* * *
Rosalie woke with a start, panicked. She was in a strange room, in her thrifted dress from last night, with a soft throw over her. Sitting up, she tried to quell her pounding heart as she looked around the room and remembered she was at the IDA Resort Planet. Heat bloomed in her cheeks as she contemplated how drunk she must have been last night to have passed out, while her date was carrying her, as she now recalled with embarrassment. Her head was throbbing, which made it difficult to think but headclear and water waited on the nightstand.
Wasting no time she did the painless headclear inject.
“Feeling better?”
Treylon was leaning against her doorway, wearing nothing but gray sweatpants. She tried not to notice his chiseled abs and the delicious vee pointing the eye downward past the waistband of the pants. Oh no, she was not going to ogle his package.
“Yes, thank you.” She managed to claw words from her mind.
