Vegas focused on the tablet in her hand. She noticed her fingers trembling as she scanned through the pages of induction notes. Solan was even hotter in the flesh than the pictures she’d seen of him.

She knew all about him. He was known as the Destroyer of Stars. He’d been pivotal in ending several galaxies-wide battles, using his tactical combat skills and lethal aim to cull many enemies. His image was often in the newscasts at the station. She’d fallen in lust with him the first time she’d seen those huge biceps and smoldering eyes.

Nowhere in any of the broadcasts had they said what an utter jerk he was.

He talked about human women as if they were cattle meant only for breeding. Galaxars weren’t known for their chivalry or affection, but he was the first she’d met who’d been so blunt. All he cared about was getting his leg over and siring a child. Even the Retars from the planet Opus knew how to treat their matches with respect and show them a courtesy unknown between them. Their females ate the males when they’d gotten what they wanted, so their natural instinct was to fuck and run.

Solan’s insults about the lack of security on the space station were also out of order. He was the one who’d missed the stealth bots—the station’s little friends who did anything from sneaking into an alien ship to bringing you a drink when you’d had a hard day. He wasn’t the warrior he claimed to be. He was a puffed-up bronzed ball of arrogance. His hot looks would not sway her. She would treat him like any other client and let him know when he stepped out of line. It was the only thing to do when dealing with a feisty alien.

Taking a deep breath, Vegas forced herself to remain calm. Solan was high up in the Galaxar ranks. My Single Alien would get a boost in credibility if this pairing worked. More nobility would use their services. That might even make Diadora smile.

Vegas knew she’d trodden a thin line by speaking out against him in front of his troop. She’d been fortunate he hadn’t challenged her to a fight. She’d seen his anger flair and his eyes glow as he’d fought the desire to harm her. One swipe of those massive hands and she’d be seeing stars and planets for months.

And, if Diadora heard she’d been talking back to a Galaxar colonel, it would be a black mark against her name. Diadora was insisting the numbers of successful pairings rise, and she was monitoring her. This had to go smoothly for both their sakes.

The squeak of a chair as it was pulled back made her glance up. Solan looked far too big for the chair he sat in.

Vegas gave him a moment to settle before turning to her first page of notes. “Welcome to My Single Alien. You have been successfully paired with a female. This induction is to run through all the practicalities that pairing will involve.”

“Where is my female?” Solan looked around the room as if expecting a naked, willing mate to appear out of thin air.

He was nothing if not keen. “You will not meet her until you have been fully briefed. If you don’t know all the information, it is easy for things to go wrong. We have a saying on Earth: first impressions count.”

Solan’s forehead wrinkled. “I heard about a Monomar pairing with a human. Their first impression was bad?”

Vegas winced. That pairing had happened in My Single Alien’s opening month. The company’s protocols had been sketchy with regard to meeting and pairing. The Monomar had not mentioned his retractable tentacles when completing his profile. The poor woman paired with him had run screaming from their room, clutching a pair of panties to her chest after he’d revealed his tentacles all ready for some alien loving. She’d been in therapy for a month, and Diadora had paid her an unknown amount of compensation to keep her quiet.

Since then, they’d learned to do a comprehensive physical and mental assessment of each and every alien who wanted a match with a human. Every area was searched for tentacles and anything else that might spring out and alarm a mate.

“That was an unfortunate one-off.”

“This human I have been matched with, she understands Galaxars?”

“She does. She has seen your profile and is happy to proceed with the match.” She’d be foolish not to. Solan was a hot alien. Vegas shook her head. There would be no lusting after a client. This was business.

“I have not seen her full profile.”

“She is fertile. That is all you care about.” Vegas heard the sharpness in her words.

Solan met her gaze. “Yes. That is the main priority.”

“Then you will receive her full information at the end of your induction. It is standard practise.”

“I have been approved, though,” Solan said. “I have passed all your tests?”

“You have.” Vegas checked his file. In fact, he’d aced every one. There didn’t seem to be a flaw about him. It was a shame they couldn’t check for what level of jerk he was. He would have failed that test. She put him at a level fifteen jerk with an A for smugness.

“I should meet her.”

Vegas let out a gentle sigh. These males were always so eager to meet their mate. “We’ll run through the basics of human reproduction first.”

“I have read about it. I understand what needs to happen. It is not dissimilar to how we mate on Miran. Nor should it be, since you humans are our primitive throwback.”

“Primitive throwback?” He’d been upgraded to a level twenty jerk.

Solan shrugged. “Yes. You understand your development?”

Her fingers tightened on the tablet. “If you’re sure we’re not too primitive for you, shall I continue the induction, or would you like to look elsewhere for a fertile mate?”

Solan scratched his chin. “You may continue.”

“Thanks so much.” Vegas briefly wondered about changing his match. She remembered the over the top redhead who’d bounced around the space station a couple of weeks ago. She had a voice that could shatter glass. That would be sure to annoy Solan.

“Is there a problem?”

Resisting the temptation, Vegas shook her head. “As you rightly pointed out, the reproductive process is similar. Our genetic histories are the same, with a few minor differences.”

“You don’t have superpowers.”

She spluttered out a laugh. Up he shot to a level twenty-five jerk. “You have superpowers?”

“We are defenders of multiple galaxies.”

“How could I forget that? You’re regular heroes. Yes, humans have no superpowers. But we do have the ability to reproduce. We are fertile. In a way, I consider that a kind of superpower.” It was a low blow, but he’d pissed her off.

The gleam of irritation in Solan’s eyes made her stomach tighten. She’d gotten to him. This was one thing she had that he could not get anywhere else. My Single Alien could give him a longed-for child. Without it, she knew he’d not be considered a true Galaxar. He could rut with as many females as he liked, but unless he sired a squib, a question of ability would hang over his head like a sharp blade ready to fall.

“The mating process,” Solan said. “I must climax inside of you?”

“No! Not me!”

He shook his head. “I mean, the female. I must ejaculate inside of her? You have a tunnel like our females?”

Her breath came out shakier than she’d expected as an image of Solan climaxing inside her filled her head. It had been her favorite fantasy for months. “That’s correct. It’s important you provide your partner with as much pleasure as possible. It will make the process a more pleasing one for you both. And if your first coupling is not successful, she will be more receptive to repeating the mating with you if you make it enjoyable and comfortable.”

Solan sat up straight. “I’ve never had any complaints regarding my ability to satisfy a female.”

Vegas’s gaze ran over Solan’s muscular physique. There was no denying he was incredible to look at. Even though he was a level twenty-five jerk, he was making her feel warm inside. If she could get him to keep his mouth shut, he would be perfect.

“You are interested in my appearance. I can show you everything I have.”

His comment jerked Vegas away from lusting after his body. “Show me what?”

“I can give you a practical demonstration of my ability. You will be impressed.”

Vegas took a step back. “You think highly of yourself.”

“I am Galaxar.”

Of course, that explained everything. Vegas focused on the tablet in her hand, having lost track of what she was supposed to say.

“We practise on each other. Is that not why you’re here? You ensure the suitability of each pairing.”

“I don’t sleep with every candidate who comes into the space station.” Vegas’s mouth dropped open as she calculated the through rate of clients. “I would be having sex with twenty aliens a day. That’s on a quiet weekday.”

Solan stood. His hand went to his belt buckle. “I will show you what I have. You can make your own assessment.”

“No! Wait!” Vegas raised her hands, but it was no good. Solan seemed determined to release the beast from his tight-fitting pants.

She closed her eyes and looked away. She would not check out Solan’s package. Not even one tiny peek to satisfy her curiosity.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

“I am waiting.”

“Please, put your clothes back on. I don’t do practical demonstrations with anyone. I don’t need to see what you’re packing in your pants. I’m sure it’s all fine. It’s all lovely. Your mother must be proud of you.”

“She is. It’s fully functioning. You may feel it if you like.”

“I definitely don’t want to feel you up.” Vegas focused on the agency logo on the wall. She would not turn her head. “I don’t do that.” Risking a peek out of the corner of her eye, Vegas saw that it wasn’t just his muscles that were well-packed. He looked like he was carved out of bronze marble. “Please, cover yourself up.”

After a moment, she heard the scrape of the chair again. “I am fully covered.”

She risked another glance. “Let’s carry on.”

“What about my practical demonstration?”

Solan was not going to let this go. “How about a dummy?”

“What do I do with one of those?”

“We have lifelike human dummies you can train on. They look like fully grown females. They have all the same orifices and even become wet when excited, just like humans. You can try them out and see if you are a good fit.”

“That is a waste of my seed. I can’t breed from a dummy.”

“You’re not supposed to breed with the dummy. You’re supposed to get used to what it’s like to mate with a human.”

“I have mated on numerous occasions. This will not be my first time. I know what I’m doing.”

“You’ve never been with a human,” Vegas said. “We are different.”

“You are small.”

“Agreed. We are small compared to Galaxars.”

“Are you flexible, or do you break easily?”

“It depends how hard you hit us.”

“I would never hit you. I protect my partner. Do humans expect to be struck by their mates? That was not in the information you sent me.”

This was going in completely the wrong direction. “That’s good to hear. Your partner is fortunate you will look after her. We do not like to be hit.”

“Protecting the weak is the Galaxar way. It is what we are known for.”

Vegas needed to gain control of this situation. “Excellent. Why don’t I bring out a dummy, and you can have a look?”

Solan shook his head. “I don’t want a dummy. Show me your workings.”

This was turning into a nightmare. “I’m not getting my bits and bobs out for you to leer at.”

“Bits and bobs?” Confusion crossed his face as he tapped behind his ear. “Is the translator glitching?”

“It’s fine. I’m not taking my clothes off so you can stare at my naked body and make sure it’s suitable.”

Solan stared at her. “You’re a bad trainer.”

Vegas sucked in a breath. “And you’re a bad Galaxar.”

They stared at each other in silence.

“Get me someone who will show me their bits and boobs,” Solan said.

“Bits and bobs! It’s bits and bobs! Oh, never mind.”

Ivy Blain poked her head around the door. “Are you busy?”

Vegas inwardly groaned. Known as Poison Ivy to everyone when she wasn’t around, Ivy was the agency’s PR whizz. Sadly, that also came with the badge of being a mega-bitch. “What do you need?”

Ivy’s gaze landed on Solan and she grinned. “Welcome to My Single Alien. I do hope Vegas is treating you well.”

Solan shook his head and stood. “She’s not. She’s refusing to show herself to me. Maybe you will. Can I try you?”

Ivy’s grin turned feral. “You look like you can handle yourself, lover boy. But you must already have a match. If you ask Vegas nicely, I’m sure she’ll expose herself. She has a soft spot for candy. Show her a chocolate bar and she’ll get on her knees.”

“Ivy! Colonel Solan is an important client. What can I do for you?”

“I’m looking for new successful matches for the latest PR brochure,” Ivy said. “Hey, maybe this gorgeous stud would like to be on the front cover?” She tilted her head, and her dark eyes ran over Solan. “What do you say? Do you fancy being our new PR boy?”

“No, he does not.” Vegas stamped to the door and blocked Ivy’s entrance. “I’ll find you later and give you some suitable matches. You’re interrupting an induction session.”

“Sure you will.” Ivy clicked her tongue. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t. It looks like you’ve got yourself a handful.” She sashayed away, her heels clicking on the metal floor.

Vegas sighed as she watched Ivy go. That was the last thing she needed, Poison Ivy poking around in her business. The woman loved to humiliate everybody. She had to have some massive insecurity issues going on in that carefully coiffed head of hers. She’d never heard Ivy say a kind word to anybody.

“Do you consider me a handful?”

Vegas jumped and spun around. She hadn’t heard Solan move. He was only inches from her.

“You’re proving to be so far. Now, back-up and sit down. You need to learn about personal boundaries.”

“I know all about those in battle.” Solan’s gaze remained on her as she walked back to the front of the room. “The need to be within striking distance to deliver a killing blow to an enemy.”

“I’m not talking about that kind of boundary,” Vegas said. “Personal boundaries relate to not encroaching on another person’s space. It makes them feel uncomfortable.”

“When I am mating with my match, I will be in her space. I will be inside her. Is that not considered encroaching?”

“That will be fine because you will be together. You never know, you might even fall in love with your mate. Then you will want to be in her personal space, and she’ll want you there.”

Vegas watched as he shrugged and sat down. “You humans are obsessed with this love. You should not be. It causes too many problems.”

“It also makes the world a wonderful place,” Vegas said.

“You are in love?”

Vegas looked at the floor. She’d never felt love. She thought she’d found it a couple of times back on Earth, but Heather was right. Earth men were terrible at everything. They were bad at communicating, making love, being emotionally stable, listening to what she had to say. At least with aliens, you could teach them how things worked. They were willing to change to get what they wanted.

“Your lack of response suggests you aren’t.” Solan’s voice was surprisingly soft. “How can you teach something you have never experienced?”

Vegas grudgingly admitted he had a point. Who was she to talk about love? But she did know about matchmaking. Her dating agency back on Earth—Hopefully Devoted—had an excellent reputation. She knew how to get a spark going between people. Vegas had just never managed to do it for herself.

“As you said, this isn’t about love; this is about finding you a match. You need a successful partner to reproduce with. That’s why I’m here.”

“You don’t want a partner?”

Her eyes narrowed. Why was he suddenly so chatty? Galaxars hated small talk. He was delving into her private life like it was something to do with him. “I don’t. My job is to make sure this business is a success. To do that, I need to complete your induction and then you can meet your match.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to offer me a practical demonstration?” A glimmer of a smile crossed Solan’s face. “It will be worth your while.”

Was this Galaxar making a joke? A flash of heat rose in Vegas’s chest. “I assure you, in order to mate with someone, I need to be in love or extremely drunk.”

“I can’t offer you love,” Solan said. “But didn’t you say there’s a bar on the space station?”

Their gazes locked.

The air around Vegas felt thin again. Solan was so much hotter in the flesh. Would it be so bad to give this Galaxar a practical demonstration? If she could get past him being an arrogant jerk, she might be tempted.

“Miss Munro?” Solan’s smile was cautious. “What do you think? Not love but something almost as fun.”