Lucy started planning her return visit to Earth three days before they arrived. She thought about where to look for him if he wasn’t in the convenience store. She considered what she’d say or ask him beyond his name. She didn’t want him to know about her arranged marriage. She hadn’t discovered if she would be afforded the chance to select her own husband. What would have to happen for Lucy to be able to chooseherMr. Grey?
Lucy wasn’t quite ready to share her prestigious Alpha-Prime Designer family status with him yet, either. He’d find out soon enough if anything of note happened between them. She didn’t want to wonder if he’d only see the opportunities her family could provide for his rank and status as an Alpha. She didn’t want to discover Mr. Grey was a rank rambler, only wanting her to increase his own stature and financial status. She hadn’t gotten that vibe from him. Like her, he hadn’t been dressed in fancy clothing and he’d looked comfortable.
The moment the ship docked, and the passengers started disembarking, Lucy was out of her stateroom, waiting impatiently at the door leading to the gangplank to exit.
She headed straight for the last place they’d been together. Her belly fluttered with nervousness. Would he be there? Would he remember her? Would they dance again? Would he want to marry her and live on Alpha-Prime in a small but well-appointed residence beneath the protected sphere of the wealthiest class?
Lucy entered the store and quickly searched every row and corner, pausing briefly right where she’d met Mr. Grey in the doorway. When they’d danced. He was not there. How long should she wait? Would he think to come here to find her? Would he even look? Did he want to see her again? She hoped so, but doubt crept in as she searched the small store.
She loitered and pretended to look at souvenirs, carefully watching the door forherMr. Grey. After several long minutes, instead of her dream man, Drucilla showed up to purchase some frippery she likely didn’t need.
In a few short months, Cilla’s twentieth birthday would trigger the Duvall family’s arranged marriage extravaganza. Unlike Lucy, Cilla couldn’t wait to be married.
Lucy crouched down and hid next to a rack of T-shirts with Maxwell the Martian’s goofy smiling face plastered on the front. She didn’t want Cilla to ask a thousand questions about why Lucy was hanging around in the convenience store.
Her sister bought a package of multi-colored hair ribbons and turned to leave as the doors slid open andherMr. Grey entered. Like Lucy on their first auspicious meeting, Cilla almost ran into him. Lucy watched in horror as they moved out of each other’s way twice. Just like what had happened between the two of them ten days ago.
Would Mr. Grey dance with her sister? Did he always dance with women in this situation? Instead of being a good sport, Cilla looked annoyed. “Oh, for pity’s sake,” she said hotly. “Stand still so I can get by.”
HerMr. Grey stopped, straightened his body, turned sideways and lifted one arm, gesturing for Cilla to go ahead. Her sister sailed by him, shaking her head, muttering under her breath and frowning. Mr. Grey rolled his eyes at her back as he turned away from the door.
Lucy grinned, grateful she didn’t have to watch the man she’d been dreaming about for the last ten long days dance with the youngestandprettiest of her sisters.
Mr. Grey walked toward the water cooler with rows and rows of bottles lined up like the Royal Magistrate Guard during their annual review.
She straightened up from her crouch and stepped into his path. He startled the moment he saw her pop up. But then a very large grin shaped his mouth.
“Lucy,” he said her name like a pleasant surprise had just unfolded. “There you are.”
“Hello.” Her heart nearly pounded out of her chest it beat so rapidly. “It’s very nice to see you again.”
“Yes,” he said softly. “Good to see you, too.”
“How have you been, Mr. Grey?” She wondered what he did here in the way station on Earth. It must have something to do with this underground facility, especially if he had to have regular meetings with Director Patmore. Was this Diesel Grey? Cam?
“Mr. Grey is so formal. You can call me Axel,” he said.Axel Grey. Hmm. Great name.“I’ve been thinking about you, Lucy.”
“Have you?”Good! I’ve been thinking about marrying you for ten days. I’ve also thought about where we’ll live.
If only she had the courage to say that out loud. Worse, if only she didn’t have an arranged marriage hanging over her head.
“Did you have a good trip on theRoyal Caldera Forte?”
No. I hated it because I wanted you to be there.“It was fine,” she said without much enthusiasm.
“Just fine? Now there’s a ringing endorsement.” His grin made her knees go weak. She locked them to keep from slithering to the floor.
She shrugged. “I didn’t have a dance partner the whole trip.”Not that I wanted anyone but you.
His eyes widened, but he didn’t move.
Lucy stepped closer. He didn’t back up. Good. He was taller than she was, but he wasn’t a giant. He was absolutely perfect.
“Haveyoudanced with anyone lately?” she asked in a small, timid voice. He hadn’t danced with Cilla, but her sister hadn’t exactly been receptive.
“Nope.” His gaze went from her eyes to the top of her hair to her chin and then back. “Only you.”
“Really? Why is that?”
