Kurt Conrad politely greeted the other passengers on the elevator and rode in silence to the TV news office carrying his briefcase and a steaming paper cup of aromatic coffee. He strolled by the expansive windows taking in one of his favorite views--the city of Philadelphia covered by fresh snow on an early winter morning. Its derogatory nickname, Filthadelphia, no longer fit the city when transformed into a sparkling white panorama.

The newsroom was bustling with activity. It looked as if some disaster story requiring reporters and anchors to scramble for updates was going to add to the usual noise level. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to hear about it.

Kurt considered himself lucky to have his glass office that looked down over the newsroom and he shut the door as he stepped inside. How could anyone work day after day waiting to be interrupted by the anticipation of bad news? He shook his head and reminded himself that he was lucky. At least he had a good job, even if it was a little boring, and he enjoyed occasional banter with his friend and co-worker, Frank. Good thing, since they shared the office.

Kurt carefully hung his gray wool coat over the hook on the back of the door. Sitting at his desk in peace, he sipped his low-fat latte and pulled a contract out of his inbox. His office mate arrived just as Kurt was incorporating the notes he had made from his meeting with the sponsor. Frank settled himself at his desk, which faced in the opposite direction, and then he cleared his throat several times.

“Bad cold you’ve got there, Buddy,” Kurt said.

“I’ll live. I was merely trying to get your attention without interrupting you.”

Kurt kept pecking away at his keyboard, trying to finish the paragraph correctly so the sponsors wouldn’t want it reworded. As soon as he typed the period, he whirled around in his swivel chair. “Now that you’ve interrupted me, what did you want to say?”

“Have you been to the break room this morning?”

“Nope. I bring my Starbucks with me.”

“Well don’t be surprised if one of the women asks you what your sign is.”

“My Zodiac sign?”

Frank nodded. “Yup. All the women were gathered around a copy of Cosmo’s bedside astrologer this morning. Don’t ask me why buddy, but they’re trying to figure out what your sign is and which single chicks are compatible with you.”

“Me? Why me? Why not the tall, dark and handsome anchor?”

“They seem to think you’re the pretty boy. I guess ‘almost gay’ is in this year.”

Kurt narrowed his gaze. “You’d better mean ‘metrosexual.’”

“Whatever. What the hell does that mean, anyway? Metrosexual?”

“It means I wear ironed, coordinated clothes and I like to try a little gourmet cooking once in a while, but I have mad skills with the ladies.”

Frank chuckled. “For some reason, they think you’ve got it goin’ on. Besides, anchor Andy’s an asshole. They’re under the mistaken impression that you’re not.”

Kurt smirked and turned back to his computer. “Thanks, pal.”

A moment later one of the producers opened their door and popped her head in. “Hey, Kurt. How was your Christmas?”

Picking up his paper cup, he turned toward her with a smile. “Hi, Susan. It was nice. The whole family got together for once. Yours?”

“Great. I found out I’m sexually compatible with my husband.”

Kurt almost dropped his coffee.

She giggled. “Oh it’s no big surprise to me, but it’s nice to know that we have Cosmo’s blessing.” She waved the magazine she had in her hand. “The January bedside astrologer edition was in my stocking. So what’s your Zodiac sign?”

“Do not disturb.”

Frank laughed. “I told you, buddy.”

“Oh, c’mon... Everyone wants to know.”

Kurt shook his head. “Forget it. Tell them I’m Barney the dinosaur.”

Susan folded her arms and didn’t budge. “They’re going to hound you all day if I don’t find out.”

Kurt groaned but smiled inwardly at the compliment. “I would, Sue, but I have a birthday coming up, and if I tell you what I am, they’ll want to know what day my birthday is. Then they’ll bake a cake and I’ll be expected to sit through an embarrassing rendition of 'Happy Birthday to You' in the break room.”

“You’re kidding. What day?”

“See?”

Susan giggled. “Okay, Mr. Capricorn. I won’t bug you anymore.”

“Damn. How’d you know?”

“Because we’re in Capricorn for the next three and a half weeks.” She rifled through the magazine until she came to the right page. “Okay, you’re supposed to date Taurus or Virgo. Pisces and Cancer are okay too. Stay away from Gemini and Sagittarius, though. You may be attracted to them since they’re witty and fun, but they’re too flighty for you. You need honesty and trust.”

Kurt snickered and shook his head. “Thanks, Sue. I’ll remember that.”

* * * *

Five months later, having ignored the warnings, he had dated and been dumped by a beautiful Gemini. Now with his weekends free, he was driving to Pittsburgh to visit his family. He should have made it home weeks ago to congratulate his little sister on her engagement. It wasn’t that family didn’t matter to him. He missed his folks and his younger sisters, but other things kept getting in the way.

Kurt’s late model BMW convertible sputtered, limped off to the side of the road and died. The sun was directly overhead and he squinted, despite wearing sunglasses, as he looked around for some sign of civilization. He didn’t see anything at first so he stepped out of the car, opened the hood, and attempted to diagnose the problem as if he knew his engine from his elbow. Driving cars was his passion, not fixing them. The midnight black BMW was usually so dependable. It was a hot day though, and he figured its radiator had overheated.

He tried his cell phone but that was dead too.

“Shit.” Kurt glanced at his light gray slacks and crisp white shirt and stood next to his car scowling. He scanned the countryside again, and this time he spotted a farmhouse off in the distance. That’s weird. I don’t remember seeing that before. Even though the road seemed deserted, he checked the Bavarian sports car’s interior for anything he shouldn’t leave out in the open and grabbed a paper bag from the passenger’s seat. Resigned, he strolled in the direction of the old farmhouse. It appeared solid enough to be inhabited, but desperately needed a good coat of white paint.

When he wandered up the grassy rise, he noticed a clothesline attached to the back of the house with a pair of lovely legs visible behind the clean white linens flapping in the fresh air. As he drew nearer, he saw flashes of a pretty young woman between the hanging clothes and sheets.

Hoping he wouldn’t startle her, Kurt called out ‘hello’ from a few feet away.

She startled anyway. “Oh!” The young woman’s wide blue eyes peeked around the laundry on the line.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No. That’s all right. I just didn’t expect...” She stepped toward him and offered a shy smile.

Kurt noticed her big, bright eyes first. They were more turquoise than straight blue and held him with a deep, mysterious pool effect. Then he took in the rest of her. Beautiful medium brown hair with copper lights fell over her shoulders. It remained shiny and soft looking even though it had been tossed by the wind like the clothing on the line. Her body ... dear God, it had to be a perfect 38-24-36 dressed in casual blue jeans and a light cotton top. Kurt had seen plenty of exquisite women in and around Philadelphia, but this one captivated him.

He flashed his most charming white smile and took in a deep breath before he came to his senses and thought he’d better explain his presence. “My car broke down. It’s a little ways down the road, and I could see your house in the distance. I’d like to use your phone to call Triple A if you don’t mind?”

She blinked. “We don’t have a telephone and what’s Triple A--a farm?” Her sweet, innocent, azure eyes seemed to grow and sparkle as she stared at him.

The city dweller in him couldn’t imagine living out here in the back-of-beyond without a telephone. He could barely imagine living without a computer, PDA, and cell phone, but he recovered quickly and hoped she didn’t notice his moment of shock. His eyes wandered over the country girl for another long moment. He was unable to help himself. Her full bosom and deep cleavage winked at him through the ivory blouse tied with a pink ribbon at a peek-a-boo neckline. Outfitted in tight blue jeans, he wished she’d turn around. Her bottom was probably as shapely as the rest of her.

I thought this was Amish country. If so, the black uniform reaching from chin to boots has certainly changed. He continued to appraise her and noticed dark copper, luscious lips, perfect for kissing.

When he managed to bring himself back from his befuddled state for a second time, he didn’t know precisely where his brain had been or how long it had lingered there. It was probably in his cock, expanding as the blood rushed to it. “Well, that’s all right. If I could just get some water for the radiator, I think I could convince the engine to run again.”

“Yes I can get you some water. Wait over there.” She pointed to a white, wooden table and chairs by the side of the house.

He sat, as instructed. She smiled as she strolled past him to the side door, swinging her hips seductively. Oh, yes. Her ass was as gorgeous as he thought it would be.

*

In the kitchen, Becky heard her brother-in-law, Jake, talking in a low voice to her mother.

“Sorry, Emma. I had to tell him. I’m afraid I made a mess of it.”

“Well, Oliver’s only thirteen. You were upset when you found out about the girls’ powers at twenty. I’ll talk with the boy.”

As she walked in, Jake kissed his mother-in-law on the cheek and left through the swinging kitchen door that led into the dining room.

The outside door shut with a bang behind her, and Becky’s mother whirled around.

“Becky, what’s the matter with you? You’re twenty-five years old, not ten. What’s got you so fired up that you have to let the door slam?”

“There’s a man outside, Ma.” She reached into one of the cabinets painted a fresh shade of green and pulled out a glass. “He wants water.”

“Where did this man come from?”

“Just down the road. His car broke down.”

“Really? And all he wants is a glass of water?”

“Well no. He wanted a telephone at first.” She filled the glass from the dull, metal tap. “I told him we didn’t have one, then he said that was all right, and he could get his car going again with water.”

Her mother laughed. “You can give him a glass of water to drink, but he might need a whole pail of water for the radiator in his car.”

Becky felt the blush of embarrassment rise to her cheeks. She dragged the metal bucket from under the sink and filled it with their well water. “I feel so stupid when it comes to the ways of the world. I wish I knew more about how life is for folks in other parts.”

“Well, just keep in mind that there are many things wrong with the world. I wouldn’t covet first-hand knowledge, if I were you.”

Becky rolled her eyes. She opened the side door with her pinky since she held both the bucket and the glass of water, and her mother issued a final word caution.

“I know he’s handsome. I can see it in your eyes, but be careful. Don’t give your heart away too soon.”

“He only wants some water.” Becky let the screen door slam on purpose.

“I doubt that,” her mother muttered.

Kurt stood when he saw her approach and moved quickly to take the bucket from her. She placed the glass of water on the table sitting in the chair opposite his and said, “We don’t get many visitors here.”

He returned to his seat and smiled. “Have you lived here long?”

“All my life. And my mother before me and her mother before her and another generation before that. Our family has been living in this house for at least a hundred years.”

“That must be nice. I can’t imagine what’s that’s like. I’ve moved so many times.”

“Really? What places have you lived in?” Becky leaned forward, exposing her full cleavage. She enjoyed the heat in his eyes as he glanced into her low-cut neckline.

“Oh, that is, if you don’t mind telling me or if it’s not a secret.”

Kurt laughed and then stopped and cleared his throat. It looked like he thought she was making a joke.

“No. It’s not a secret. I was born in Germany. My parents moved to Alaska when I was a baby, then we lived in California when I was in high school. I went to college in Boston, and now I live in Philadelphia. My family moved to Pittsburgh, so that’s where I’m headed now.”

“My Lord! All those places?” She counted them on her fingers. “Germany, Alaska, California, Boston and Philadelphia! You must have lived a very exciting life!”

*

Kurt took a deep breath. He was about to explain that his father was in the Army, but he didn’t have a chance. Those eyes! They were big and bright, and there was something special about them. He just stared into her deep mesmerizing eyes and didn’t say a word. He thought about what it would be like to make love to this refreshing, innocent, young woman, the likes of which he had never known. He finally managed to look down at the grass, breaking his riveted gaze. “We don’t even know one another’s names.”

“Oh! I should have introduced myself right off, and here I’ve already told you my whole life story. I’m Becky Morgan.”

Kurt put out his right hand to shake hers. “Kurt Conrad,” he said.

She took his hand and he noticed immediately how soft and smooth hers felt. How wonderful it would be to have those soft hands caressing his erection, which felt as big as a salami at the moment. Thank God, there was a table between them.

Kurt picked up the paper bag and handed it to her. “This is for your kindness.”

She reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle of champagne.

“This is wonderful! We don’t make wine, so we almost never have any. Sometimes we get a bottle from town at Yule. I’ll have to save it for then.”

Kurt finished his cool water and placed the glass on the table. “No need to do that. I’ll bring you another bottle before Christmas.”

Becky sat back looking surprised but her smile grew wide. Her nipples were now visible peaks under her thin blouse.

Kurt was surprised to hear his voice inviting himself back, but he never wanted anything more in his life. He had to see her again. He forced himself to think of baseball until he could stand. Picking up the bucket, he realized there was an important question he should have asked first.

“Are you seeing anyone? I didn’t see a ring on your finger.”

“There’s no one around here to see.” She smiled as she looked down and stared at the grass around her bare feet.

Kurt sighed with relief. “Okay. Well, I’ll be back with the bucket in a few minutes.”

“Oh I don’t think you’ll need that anymore.” She must have seen the doubt in his eyes. “Really. I think maybe your car just needed to rest a bit. Try starting it now. It should most likely work again.”

He gazed at her innocent face like she was the rarest child that God had ever created and said, “You’re not like any girl I’ve ever known.”

He strolled toward the road carrying the bucket, and Becky returned to her family’s laundry.

He turned around briefly and called out to her. “And to think I never would have met you if it weren’t for that detour a couple miles back!”

Becky grinned and winked.

When he reached his car, just for the heck of it, he jumped in and turned the key. It started up and purred as contented as a cat.

ASSIGNMENT

GOAL: tie up the goat

REWARD FOR SUCCESS: choice of next assignment

PENALTY FOR FAILURE: you don't want to know

Aurora barely had time to read the missive before Tragar snapped his stubby green fingers. In a whirlwind of color, she found herself hurtling through space, past nebula ... star clusters ... even that shiny thing labeled Cassini that still orbited Saturn. Ah, she must be headed to Earth again.

Maybe this time, she could stay longer. A few hours wasn't enough to--

Umpf. Her feet slammed into the ground. She tottered a moment, seeking balance. Moonbeams and morning glories, what a journey!

Before her eyes adjusted to the bright outdoor sun, warmth filled her arm. She looked at her hand, blinking rapidly. Her hair had tangled and twisted during her interstellar voyage. Through the unruly strands, she saw her fingers wrapped tightly around cloth-covered steel. Warm steel. Heat spread through her entire body.

"Whoa, there. You all right?"

The man's deep voice washed over her, and she glanced at him under the cover of her hair. Sunspots and solar flares! Not at all like the slender, almost effeminate males back home. For one thing, this man wore clothing. Dark heavy garments layered his body, the fabrics full of texture and substance. She longed to trace the material with her fingers almost as much as she longed to take them off. Her body blazed hotter at the unbidden thought.

Self-consciously, she released his arm. Her fingers burned from the contact. The gossamer fabric of her loose dress suddenly felt like a lover's caress touching her skin. Her breasts tingled, became fuller. Her tongue slipped from her mouth and licked her bottom lip, much as she longed for the man to do.

Toadstools and tulips, this wasn't like her. Were all humans this hot? The males back home never caused these feelings. This heat. Hiding her unexpected reaction, she nodded in response to his question and bent to unwrap the skirt which had tangled around her legs.

"Is this your first cruise?" he asked.

Cruise? Tragar could have told her that, tricky troll. Still messing with her skirt, she made a sound of agreement. "Mmmmm."

"First trip to Hawaii?"

She was more comfortable observing humans from afar. The man's focused attention unnerved her, even as part of her yearned for it. Reveled in it. Instincts long ignored and muscles long unused began clamoring for attention. She glanced at his face.

He was staring at her legs. Oooo, there went her temperature again. What had he asked her? Oh, Hawaii. She straightened and looked at him through her bangs. "Yes."

"Mine too. First vacation in years. Well, if you call a job interview vacation," he explained with a smile.

She wanted to touch his hair. Short and light, the color of sunshine, it spiked from his scalp, just begging her fingers to run through it. Was it as warm as it looked? What about his face? His body? Were they hot, too?

"I have an appointment at the Observatory on Mauna Kea to see about a job. Charles Manning, from New Mexico." He held out his hand.

It was big, too, just like the man. She could feel the heat emanating from his fingers.

A loud noise sounded from a speaker, and she jumped. The man cocked his head toward a narrow entrance that led to a gangplank. "Oh, that's me. I guess I can board now. Well, ahem." He slowly retracted his hand, and curved it into a fist before picking up his luggage. "Perhaps I'll see you around."

The moment he walked off, she leaned forward into the space he had vacated and inhaled.

Spicy, strong, sexy.

Arousing.

Find the goat. Tie him up. The goat.

The cryptic instructions intruded in her mind, even as her eyes followed the man's progress.

She really wanted to touch his hair.

* * * *

Maybe the fish was bad. The queasy feeling in his gut had started sometime during the day and had gotten steadily worse through dinner. He gave the uneaten fish on his plate a dirty look.

Just what he needed to start off the first real semi-vacation he'd taken in six years. Food poisoning. Shit.

"Have you sailed on The Splendor before, Mr. Manning?"

At the sound of his name, he looked up from his plate, determined to ignore the hollow sensations churning in his stomach. One of the elderly women seated across the large circular table smiled at him expectantly. He thought her name was Hazel. Or maybe Mabel. Before he could answer, one of the women flanking her said, "Harriet, it's Professor Manning. Did you forget, dear?"

Harriet. Now he remembered. When he'd been seated at his assigned table and seen the three matching octogenarians, he'd done a double take, then a triple take. Harriet was the most outspoken of the three, her bright orange hair matched by the God-awful orange lipstick that she'd all but chewed off the past half hour.

"Charles is fine," he told them. Actually, it was Doctor Manning, but he didn't want to correct them and come across sounding pretentious. This trip was supposed to be relaxing, casual ... a far cry from his usual twelve-plus hour workdays. "And no, ma'am. It's my first time out to sea in something other than a fishing boat."

"It's our fourteenth cruise." Blue-haired Hazel/Mabel told him with pride, waving her napkin in front of her like a flag.

"No, I think you're mistaken, sister. I do believe this is number fifteen," Harriet corrected. She reached into her purse and pulled out a tube of lipstick, heaven help the old dear.

"I think you're confused, Harry. Don't you remember, the Mediterranean was twelfth, and then we sailed..."

The three women continued to debate among themselves, leaving him free to contemplate his fish. Or not.

He'd rather think about the woman on the dock this morning. Damn. There went his stomach again. One moment, he'd been standing in line, reading over the ship's itinerary. The next, a strong breeze blew past him and he felt a small hand clamped around his arm. From his first glance at the woman's lithe body and long thick hair, he wanted a lot more than her arm clamped around him.

The hum of the engines changed as they picked up speed. He watched the liquid in his wine glass shimmy with the ship's motion. Now that they were away from port and in open waters, he'd expected the movement of the large ship to increase, but it was negligible, just a low-grade vibration. Like those cheap motel beds he'd loved as a kid. The ones that shook and vibrated for a quarter.

He'd tried to engage the woman in conversation, but her monosyllabic replies hadn't been encouraging. Too bad, she was one woman he'd sure like to get on a vibrating bed.

As if conjured by his thoughts, she entered the dining room, stopping when she saw the crowded tables. Charles wanted to jump up and shout, "Here! There's an empty chair right here!"

* * * *

After waiting her turn in line, Aurora boarded the large vessel and found her designated cabin. The little room was light and airy, and even smelled of magnolia blossoms, her favorite scent. The things Tragar arranged from half across the galaxy. Amazing. She removed the carry-on bag that had been strapped over her shoulder when she'd landed. Dropping it on the bed, she almost lit up like a glowworm. Her first overnight assignment on Earth! She couldn't wait to begin.

Static sounded from overhead, then a voice came from her ceiling. "As your captain, I would like to welcome everyone aboard. Tonight, dinner is in the main hall at 7:00 and 9:00. Starting tomorrow morning, room service will be available. Before we leave San Diego and the States, everyone must present themselves on deck for our required safety lesson. I expect smooth sailing, but better safe than sorry, eh?"

Aurora suffered through the crowded safety lesson the best she could. Her acute senses were overloaded from being in such close proximity with so many humans. Soon, the vessel was sailing on the high seas. Instead of floating through the air--which had become commonplace after she earned her wings--she was floating on the ocean. Flowers and fireflies, this was exciting.

Thrilled to her toes, Aurora tackled her latest assignment and looked for the goat.

And looked for the goat.

And looked ... for ... the ... goat.

It was useless. She searched every inch of the ship, and came up empty-handed. When she tried to check the cargo hold, a crewman barred the entrance. She refused to leave until he promised there wasn't a goat hiding behind the door. Glaring at her like he thought she needed to be tied up, he assured her the ship was goat-free, that nary a goat ever traveled on The Seaward Splendor.

Frustrated, she considered the bright side. She'd been able to explore the ship and in the process, had found a secluded area that looked out over the ocean. The late afternoon sun glinting off the ship's wake had reminded her of the man's hair, all gold and enticing. Suddenly, she was parched. Making sure no one was nearby, she waved one hand and held out the other. Nothing happened.

Oh, asteroids and azaleas, she still didn't have any magic. The solar flares must be really strong today if her magic hadn't caught up with her yet.

She returned to her cabin, and flopped on the bed. How could she tie up the dadgum goat if she couldn't find it? Used to quick success, the unfamiliar cloud of pending failure weighed on her mind. Even the inviting cabin didn't lift her spirits.

Her stomach growled, reminding her of the distance she had traveled without nourishment. If she couldn't summon something on her own, she'd have to eat with the humans. Afterwards, she'd enjoy a warm bath, then rest. She'd look for the darn goat again tomorrow.

While she retrieved an outfit from the meager selection in her bag, she wondered when Tragar would call her back. If he called her back. She hadn't failed an assignment before, and didn't know how long she'd be here. Pity, she wouldn't mind having some time to look for the man with the dark clothes and sunshine hair. Mr. Charles Manning, of the steel-strong arms and sexy scent. Charlie.

Distracted by her thoughts, the elegant chignon she attempted to pull her hair into was nothing more than a mess, which she promptly blamed on Tragar. His instructions for this latest assignment didn't make any sense. Stupid troll. She'd like to give him a wart on the end of his nose, one to match the mole already there. But that wouldn't exactly endear Aurora to her current instructor.

Thanks to Tragar's terrible tutelage, her perfect assignment record seemed doomed, and she was dragging when she left her cabin. If she hadn't been so hungry, she would have skipped supper. Being around this many humans for so long was more of a strain than she expected, and a headache pounded between her eyes. Even after searching the ship earlier, she made several wrong turns on the way to dinner. Finally, she gave up and followed her nose, easily sniffing out the scents of food and humans once she lowered her guard.

By the time she reached the dining room, everyone was seated. Conversation and laughter clashed with the sounds of people eating. Her sensitive ears heard it all, increasing the pressure in her head. Standing inside the door, drained and despondent from the long day, she couldn't locate her assigned table or an empty chair. The longer she stood there, the more she noticed people staring at her. Oh, seeds and weeds, how she hated being the center of attention. Maybe she should skip supper after all? A protest rumbled up from her stomach.

Weary and out of sorts, she scarcely noticed when a waiter walked over and escorted her through the dining room, tsking about how late she was, and how hungry she must be. The moment they neared her table, everything faded into oblivion. Her exhaustion ... the goat ... even her hunger.

He was here! Sitting at this very table! The man with the sunny hair. Charlie.

Energy thrummed through her. When she approached the empty seat, he stood and pulled out her chair. Oh, stars and satellites, he was big.

Tingles danced over her skin as she sat down and mumbled something in response to a question from the waiter. Charlie was so close. They almost touched. His breath was warm on the back of her neck when he pushed in her chair, and her body almost went through the roof in response. Several other people at the table said hello, and Aurora smiled and nodded, pretending to understand while inside, she was awhirl with thoughts and possibilities. When the waiter brought her food a moment later, she mindlessly ate, considering her options.

Maybe the goat hadn't made it on board the ship. She had looked on all seven decks. Twice. If Tragar couldn't see fit to give her better instructions, then she couldn't be blamed for not completing this assignment. At least, that sounded like something her sister Trixie would say.

A waiter came by and offered to fill her wine glass. Aurora nodded absently and ate faster, concentrating on her thoughts. Her mind swirled with ideas. Goats ... assignments ... alcohol ... Charlie ... big, sexy Charlie...

* * * *

"...right, Professor Manning?"

"Huh?" he mumbled, his eyes glued to the woman standing by the dining room's entrance. When a waiter started escorting her toward the table where Charles sat, his cock jumped in his pants and did a happy dance. The woman practically glided as she made her way past the other diners. She wore another long dress, this one so sheer and filmy he swore he could practically see her nipples. Maybe he could sneak a glance down her front. The thought was so unlike him, he was almost ashamed. Almost.

"Professor, did I hear you say that you studied the stars?"

The question from across the table barely reached his ears. He responded abstractedly. "Uh, yes. I ... I'm ... an astron ... o..."

His words trailed off when the waiter led the woman directly to the chair next to him. Charles stood and pulled it out for her. She gracefully sank into it, giving him a shy nod of thanks. The waiter said he'd bring her food right out and Charles watched as she folded her napkin in her lap, took a sip of water, and looked anywhere but at him.

He itched to touch the delicate fabric of her dress. The kaleidoscope of colors swirling around her sent his senses spinning. The muscles in his throat tightened. He loosened his tie, and sat down.

Why wouldn't she look at him?

He couldn't remember when he'd been this attracted to a woman. Work and research occupied most of his time. He usually had little interest in dating. He glanced longingly at the woman next to him. Too easily, he saw her sitting front and center in his life. Better yet, front and centered on his lap.

Charles shifted, trying to relieve the pressure against his cock.

Well, shit. He hadn't dated in so long, he'd lost his self-control, as well as his finesse. Tomorrow at dinner, he'd try to talk to her again. By the end of this long cruise, maybe they'd actually engage in a real conversation. Oh, joy. Too bad he wanted a lot more than conversation...

He moved the fish around on his plate and tried to focus on the chatter buzzing around him.

"See, Harriet, I told you the professor here was an astrologer."

Sitting beside him in her flowing dress, the woman was so graceful and fresh, like a field of wildflowers. The image, in stark contrast to the sterile science lab where he spent most of his days analyzing data from telescope observations, imprinted itself on his brain.

"Oh, I'm so excited. Maybe he'll do a reading for us. My last astrologer had to retire. Shut down by the IRS for nonpayment of taxes, and all. It's been ages since I've gotten a good reading."

"I've wanted to do that for years. I read my horoscope every morning, but I never...”

"Leave the man alone, Mabel, Harry. He's on vacation." A loud thump of a cane accompanied this announcement.

He really wanted to talk to her, but she hadn't returned his conversational gambits this morning and she was doing her best to ignore him now. His teeth ground in frustration.

"I bet he wouldn't mind. Would you Professor Manning?"

"Hmmm?" He was so damn distracted, his brain wasn't paying attention. If he only knew why she seemed uncomfortable around him. Maybe she was just shy, but he was a little afraid to try again. What if she wasn't interested?

Try! Try again! his cock urged, uncaring of the possible blow to his ego.

"Would you mind reading the stars for us, Professor? Tonight?"

"Harry, give the man a break." Thump, thump went the cane.

"Shhh. Let him answer, Hazel. Professor Manning?"

"Umm." His mind clouded with want, he tried to make sense of the words. Stars. Tonight. Oh, they must want him to give a constellation tour, something he did on a monthly basis back home as part of his ongoing educational outreach for the community. "Yeah." His tongue was thick in his mouth. He loosened his tie even more, and tried again. "Sure. I'll be happy to."

He'd be happier if the woman next to him wasn't behaving as if looking at him would turn her to stone. The waiter brought her food and she started devouring it so quickly he wondered if he'd be called upon to perform the Heimlich. Hey, at least that way, he'd get to touch her, right?

Why was she acting so skittish around him? Refusing to shake his hand this morning, barely acknowledging him tonight. He didn't understand. Just then, their skinny-ass Italian waiter came over to refill everyone's drinks, and she smiled and spoke to the scrawny man. Come to think of it, when the other guy had escorted her to the table--a puny, pipsqueak fellow who looked like he wouldn't know what to do with a woman if she stepped naked into his shower--she'd been smiling and glowing then, too.

Damn! Charles had his answer.

It was his size again. At six-foot-four and 210 pounds, he was built more like a linebacker than a scientist and part-time college professor. It wasn't that he clomped around, or was clumsy, just that he was, well ... big. Solid. Over the years, his size seemed to intimidate a lot of women, especially small, delicate ones that didn't know him well. Like the beauty sitting next to him.

He usually wasn't intrigued enough to care.

And he shouldn't care now. So why did he?

After all, he was here for a job interview. He hadn't come on this cruise to get laid. More's the pity.

* * * *

Halfway through dinner, Aurora made a decision and reached for her untouched wine glass. In two gulps, she drank half the contents.

Alcohol made her horny. Really, really horny. (At least it should, according to her sister, who was an authority on the subjects of alcohol and men.) Liquor also clipped her wings, which wasn't a position any self-respecting fairy wanted to be in. Not that Aurora was a full-fledged fairy. Not yet, anyway.

She was a third-cycle apprentice. And at the top of her class, until today. A lonely position, something she usually didn't notice because studying and assignments took up all of her time. Her feminine needs had been sorely neglected.

Needs that Trixie said a human man could take care of. In a big way. Her younger sister had loads of experience with males, and she was forever telling Aurora to pay more attention to her body's desires and less to her studies. Ignoring Trixie's outlandish advice had been easy in the past. Before today, Aurora hadn't been around many real men. At the moment, though, she'd sure like to be clasped around the one sitting next to her.

As she unthinkingly ate the food on her plate, she watched him surreptitiously. She'd been to Earth before, but never had she found a human male so fascinating. The sincere tone of his deep voice made her melt. Each time he spoke to the other humans, flutters coursed up and down her spine. She eyed the way his big hands gently handled the tableware, the way he carefully held his wine glass. How would he touch her skin? Her breasts ... her bottom?

At the thought, her under-used libido jumpstarted, revved up, and, after half a glass of wine, was raring to go. She'd had sex with male fairies before. It was no big deal. Nothing ever made her wings flap or her body glow like thoughts of Charlie did.

She tried to think of every way she knew to seduce a man. The list was short. Short as in non-existent. Trixie would know what to do. Aurora could just hear her sister saying, "Human males are easy. They always want sex. Just ask."

Okay, so maybe this wasn't the simplest task she'd undertaken, but it certainly promised to be one of the most satisfying. Thinking of satisfaction, the muscles between her legs clenched, reminding her of their empty state.

Quickly reaching for her water glass--she needed to cool down fast--she accidentally bumped his arm. Ummm. She knew something else she'd like to bump into.

The ship would be at sea for only five nights before arriving in port, and she didn't know when Tragar might call her back. Even five nights wasn't nearly enough for the erotic adventures she wanted to indulge in if she had the guts to go for it. She did. She wanted it all. With Charlie. Matching actions to intent, Aurora returned her water glass without taking a sip. She picked up her wine and drained it in one motion. When she placed the glass on the table, she deliberately knocked against the man once more.

* * * *

The woman next to him nudged his arm. Awareness zinged through his body and landed in his stomach like a supernova.

Steak. He should have skipped the cod and gone for the steak.

"Oops. I'm sorry," she said in a soft, husky whisper.

"No harm done," he told her, thinking third time's a charm. It was the third time their elbows had connected during dinner. And the first time she'd spoken directly to him.

Shy or not, she was one smart lady. She'd ordered the steak. Steak he'd watched her devour as if she hadn't eaten in a week. Seeing her luscious lips wrapped around her fork and sliding off pieces of meat had spurred all sorts of thoughts in his brain. He'd like to have her lips wrapped around him, sliding back and forth. His stomach twinged, pulling his mind out of his pants for the moment. The warmth from her touch was still zipping down his arm. He swallowed and loosened his tie a bit more. "Would you like to switch places?"

She glanced at their elbows, barely an inch apart, then nodded. He nearly saw past the long bangs covering her forehead to catch a glimpse of her eyes, but she kept her head ducked, even when she spoke again. "Left-handed curse." She laughed, causing the supernova in his stomach to head south. "I'm forever bumping into right-handed people."

It was the most she'd ever said to him. Progress, at last. He wished she wouldn't hide behind her bangs. If only he could see her eyes. He yearned to grasp her chin and hold her still, to discover their color, to study her features.

Standing, he pulled back her chair, taking care not to step on her long dress. His fingers itched to dive into the thick dark hair tied in a jumbled knot at her nape. Her head was at the level of his already close-to-throbbing dick, and he imagined sinking his hand into her hair and guiding her mouth to him. His grip on the chair tightened and he stood closer to it, disguising his condition from the remaining guests.

Before she could rise and take his seat, one of the triplets hollered out. "Are you two heading off already? But the dessert waiter is just now making his rounds. You can't skip dessert. It's one of the best things about vacation. And what about the stars? I thought you...”

"Harry, dear, leave the young people alone. They probably want to retire early. Together."

Not a bad idea, old girl. Lest the lovely lady think him a lecher, he roused his rusty chivalrous instincts in order to correct Mabel/Hazel's words, as much as he might wish otherwise. "Oh, no. We aren't leaving togeth...”

His sentence stumbled to a halt when he felt the woman shift in her seat and caress the back of his hand. The light, deliberate touch went straight to his groin. She stood, trailing her fingers across his arm--raising gooseflesh in her wake, and his cock in his pants. She looked directly into his eyes.

Purple.

Well, what do you know? Her eyes were purple. Amazing. Freaking amazing. Studying the amethyst-colored orbs, his stomach dipped again. Maybe he wasn't cut out for life on the high seas?

"Do you want to?" she whispered. "Leave together?"

Holy shit. Not so shy and innocent, after all.

Did he want them to leave together? Were there stars in the sky? Did the sun burn at 5000 degrees Celsius? Was his cock so hard he thought he'd die if he didn't have her?

Hell, yes, he wanted to leave with her.

But what was going on with his stomach?

Could it be the woman affecting him this way? Ridiculous. He was a grown man. It had to be the fish.

Didn't it?

Either way, he was screwed. He hoped.

* * * *

"Not good. Not." The words escaped past pointy teeth and evaporated into the ether.

Watching the foolish twit making calf eyes at the human, Tragar scratched his long nose, disgusted. How was he supposed to teach Aurora anything if she wouldn't stay focused on her assignment? And she'd started out the cycle so promising, too. "Such a waste. Such."

Third-year apprentices tended to be full of themselves. After mastering the art of flying and pixie dust usage, getting them to pay attention in the classroom practically took a command from Queen Arlene. Aurora had been the brightest ray of sunshine in this year's crop of hopefuls. The young sprite, ignoring the examples of her many siblings, actually came to class, kept her feet on the ground--most of the time--and, until today, had completed each of her assignments so smoothly that Tragar had considered promoting her to Final Cycle early.

That idea was now shot to Hades. And, be damned if Cherlon wouldn't get top honors as instructor this year, something he'd been trying to steal from Tragar for eons. That slimy weasel. Tragar wouldn't put it past him to have placed this man in Aurora's path, just to thwart Tragar's exemplary record.

Queen of the fairies! The human had her so discombobulated she was eating animal flesh. Animal flesh! And his number one pupil didn't even seem to know it.

"What to do? What?" He couldn't call her home. Not now. Once she reached for the human libation, Tragar knew his perfect record was spoilt. Until the alcohol's arousing affects wound their way through her system, there was no reaching her.

Tragar's ears drooped. His arms dropped to the ground in disappointment, kicking up a cloud of dust. Knuckles dragging, he paced, contemplating the probable ruin of his star student. The light had gone out of his day.

"Clouds. All clouds."

* * * *

Aurora stood her ground, waiting for the gorgeous man in front of her to make up his mind. It wasn't supposed to be this difficult to seduce a man, was it?

Staring at the delectable morsel who towered over her a good foot, she was actually glad her assignment was a bust. So what if the penalty was banishment to the Underworld for an eon or two? A few nights in Charlie's arms might just be worth it.

Oh, who was she kidding? Of course it would be worth it. Just the thought of his name had her fingers curling into her palms and her shoulder blades twitching. She couldn't believe the way she'd just touched him ... trailing her nails across his arm. Why, he probably thought she was a floozy. Or worse, a tramp.

Well, so what? She wanted him, and ... damn the damn goat! Aurora was going after her man.

Charlie just stood there, staring at her, moving her almost as much as the alcohol. Maybe more. Looking into his eyes, so deep, so dark, she was lost, utterly lost.

She tried to ignore the tension gathering throughout her body and figure out why he hadn't answered her. Maybe she hadn't asked him right. Trixie always said that men were stupid. Maybe Charlie didn't understand what she wanted.

She rose onto her toes, and placed her hands on his shoulders. Pulling him down, she spoke in his ear. "Charlie, would you like to have sex? With me?"