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couch opposite Ashley and Sid with a loud rrrripppp . All eyes in the room shifted toward the
lanky girl and she blushed.
    “Oh.” Rhonda fluttered a hand. “I forgot to introduce you to
Natalie Donaldson, the U.S. contribution. The Go! Cola contest winner,” she
said, as if naming a new disease.
    There hadn’t been a contest winner on the list she’d seen.
    “Contest winner? They want us to send the winner of a contest?”
Ashley asked, grateful for the subject change.
    “No, they do not,” Dr. Glasses answered for Rhonda with a sneer
and lumbered to his feet. Must be the type who was used to speaking while
standing. “Miss Donaldson’s seat should have been awarded to a geneticist. The
list specifically states two geneticists. I recommended one, which was ignored.
You Americans are all alike.”
    Ashley sat back and tried to look as Swedish as possible.
    The doctor punched his glasses against his flushed face and
addressed Miss Mouse, who shrank under his scrutiny. “You have no concept of the
brilliant and unprecedented opportunity we have here to unite as one world, to
learn from another species, and instead took an opportunity for
advertising.”
    “Did someone say advertising? I’m your mate.” A cultured
voice—with the sexiest Scottish accent since Sean Connery—filled the room
seconds before the man did. The hotness who could only be Mr. McAlister whirled
through the door like a Tasmanian devil. He, on the other hand, looked exactly
like his picture—but in the flesh, he sparkled with energy.
    “Mr. McAlister. I wasn’t expecting you until four o’clock.”
Rhonda went from harried to flustered in two point zero seconds as McAlister
drew her hand up and kissed her knuckles. With a wicked smile, he dropped
Rhonda’s hand and turned to the rest of them.
    “Fredrick McAlister, expert in human behavior, at your
service.”
    Eye-candy was always welcome. Ashley had a hard time tearing
her gaze away.
    “Call me Freddy, luv,” he said to Dr. Malinga, a scientist from
the U.K. “All the girls down under do.”
    Ashley sighed. She couldn’t get mixed up with yet another
vapid, good-looking guy with an accent. Not if she wanted to maintain her cover.
But oh, how she loved a great accent.
    Freddy barely looked in her direction. Of course not. She was a
scientist, not Ashley V. Too bad. Those shoulders and biceps straining to bust
out of his closely tailored oxford were superhot. Exactly what she liked in a
guy—easy to look at, easy to talk to, easy to forget. Shallow with a capital S
and perfect for erasing memories of the months and months she’d wasted on Hugh
Westgate, knowing it was headed south but pathetically unable to let it go. Hugh
had been ideal too—gorgeous, fun and self-absorbed, so there was no danger he’d
try to take things deeper.
    Superficial relationships were the only way to go.
    Rhonda clapped her hands and Ashley ignored the compelling Mr.
McAlister.
    “All right, everyone,” Rhonda said. “The ship is scheduled to
leave for the planet Alhedis in one hour. You folks are here because the
selection committee believes you’re the best of the best, exactly as the Telhada
expects.” Rhonda’s careful gaze swept the room and pointedly did not rest on
Miss Mouse. “We will load your suitcase for you prior to takeoff.”
    “Excuse me,” Mouse interrupted. “I have more than one suitcase.
That’s acceptable, right? I mean, surely there’s enough room on the alien’s ship
for all my bags.”
    Rhonda’s mouth pinched into a thin line. “Miss Donaldson. The
materials clearly stated you will refer to our hosts as the Telhada, not the
‘aliens,’ and it also referenced the number of suitcases.”
    All the other passengers stared at her and she blushed again.
Rhonda went back to talking about the committee’s expectations.
    Ashley couldn’t stand the pure misery pulling at Miss Mouse’s
face. Unfortunately, the Mouse cue had stuck. What was her name? Natalie.