Stolen: A Science Fiction Alien Mail-Order Bride Romance

by Lisa Lace

  Stolen

  A TerraMates Novel

  Lisa Lace

  Contents

  1. Zandra

  2. Jurgen

  3. Zandra

  4. Jurgen (Six Months Later)

  5. Zandra (Seven Months Later)

  6. Jurgen

  7. Zandra

  8. Jurgen

  9. Zandra

  10. Jurgen

  11. Zandra

  12. Jurgen

  13. Zandra

  14. Zandra

  15. Jurgen

  16. Jurgen

  17. Zandra

  18. Jurgen

  19. Zandra

  20. Jurgen

  21. Zandra

  22. Zandra

  23. Jurgen

  24. Jurgen

  25. Zandra

  26. Jurgen

  27. Zandra

  Newsletter

  Also by Lisa Lace

  Zandra

  There was soft music playing, but no one was dancing.

  It wasn’t that kind of party.

  It was more of a business function, really, hosted by TerraMates Boston. People were there to meet, mingle, and network. The gathering was held in the main room of the TerraMates building on Tremont Street. The room was fairly plain, with splashes of LED lighting providing a bit of multicolored decoration that did little to enhance the dim overhead lighting. The floor was midrange wood laminate, that could easily have been a dance floor. The room was populated by young women dressed in short, shimmery dresses and impossibly tall high-heeled shoes, some milling around the long catering tables laden with food and drinks. Others stood in small clusters around the professionally dressed matchmakers.

  Zandra Zane desperately wanted to go and eat something. She glanced longingly at the white linen-dressed catering tables. There were macaroons. And sushi. Her friend Alisha had dragged her to the party, promising her top-notch finger foods.

  How dare she exploit my weakness? Zandra thought.

  Zandra tossed her long red hair over her shoulder and tugged on the hem of her short, rose-colored dress. She sighed. She’d had enough—Hangry Zandra was about to make an appearance. Glancing once more at the luscious spread, she turned to tell Alisha where she was headed, but Alisha grabbed her by the wrist with a perfectly manicured claw. The two had been best friends since high school and currently worked at the same publishing firm, having used nepotism in the form of Alisha’s aunt in order to get jobs in the same building.

  “Come on, Zee,” Alisha prompted. Her thick curly hair was loose about her shoulders. She wore a gold dress that made her look like a goddess. Zandra looked away from the food to see that she and her friend were being waved over by one of the matchmakers, a tall woman in a navy-blue business suit, her honey hair pulled back into a severe bun. Around her throat was a wrap necklace of freshwater pearls. She looked more like a three-time gold-digging divorcée than a matchmaker for alien societies.

  “Leesh,” Zandra complained, “I’m here to eat, not to hook up with alien dick.”

  Alisha laughed. “Well, I am,” she hissed. “You’re supposed to be my wingwoman. Help me out here.”

  “I’m starving. You promised me I could eat,” Zandra told her friend for the second time since they had arrived. She had no desire to leave Earth to be a mail order bride on another planet. Here she was a career woman, a successful, up-and-coming editor at major publisher, Walt Bloom and Company. She didn’t have the time or even the desire for romance— especially if it meant leaving this planet, where things were, quite frankly, going well.

  “Girl, you can afford food,” Alisha reminded her, “and a bottle of Dom Perignon if you wanted it. Stop acting like you’re still in college. Now, come on.” She tugged a groaning Zandra along behind her and held out a hand to the matchmaker. “Alisha Lopez.”

  “Maxine Smith,” the matchmaker replied, shaking her hand. She turned to Zandra, giving her a crocodile smile. “And you are?”

  Zandra didn’t like how the woman looked at her—sizing her up like a prize thoroughbred. “Zandra Zane,” she answered. “Here for the food.”

  Maxine raised an eyebrow. There was a brief pause before she laughed. It was a polite giggle, entirely forced. “Well, let’s see if I can’t change your mind,” she said coyly, turning and beckoning for them to follow her.

  Zandra glared at Alisha, who gave her a wide-eyed glare before rolling her eyes.

  “Come on.” Alisha grabbed her arm again, dragging her along. Zandra gave the food one last glance before she found herself walking down an ambient-lit hallway lined with potted plants and numbered doors. The matchmaker stopped halfway down the corridor. She smiled at them as she ushered them into her office, which looked like a page from a high-end furniture catalogue.

  “Oooh,” Alisha cooed. “This is super-deluxe.”

  Zandra nodded in agreement but said nothing. The office was the definition of luxury. It was decorated in cream-colored carpet, with large, plush couches to match. The walls were covered in gold-and-ivory-striped damask, with gold-tone sconces adding a warm light. There was a large desk, which seemed to be more decoration than anything. The surface was empty except for a glass vase of calla lilies, which may have been fake. Maxine settled into an armchair next to the couch, gesturing for the girls to sit.

  Zandra plopped down on the couch, positioning herself so that Alisha could sit closer to Maxine. She felt herself sink down deep into the cushions. She leaned back, crossing her arms. Maxine had pulled out a hot pink, cloth-covered binder emblazoned with the TerraMates logo.

  “So,” Maxine began, “Our company provides brides to alien cultures across the universe. We reach out to different planets, sending them a description of our services. Any interested males in their population respond, and then we send our highly trained matchmakers out to the planet to check for overall suitability of the planet as well as to interview the males and put them through a screening process to ensure we are matching our girls with men who are going to provide them with the lifestyle that they not only desire but deserve. Many of our past male clients are royalty, living on exotic planets. They have provided our women with luxurious lifestyles that offer them excitement and adventure with the love of their life, whom they would not have found on Earth. As we know,” she said, leaning in and lowering her voice to a whisper, “Earth men can be… less than ideal.” She winked at them.

  “Girl, preach,” Alisha said, reaching for the binder in Maxine’s hand. “Show me the men.”

  Zandra found herself rolling her eyes as she leaned forward without even realizing it. She was curious to see what alien royalty looked like. Thus far, she had seen many alien tourists on Earth. They had seemed too “other” for her to consider them attractive. But then, the matchmaker could have shown her a binder full of human males, and her reaction would have been pretty much the same. Just about all of Zandra’s interactions with men had been vexatious. After a particularly bad breakup several years ago, she had decided to focus on herself and her career. She had never looked back, declaring herself a “happy spinster.”

  “So,” Zandra began, frowning, “why do alien men need human women? Don’t they have women of their own?”

  “Well, some males find human women more attractive,” Maxine replied.

  “Like a fetish,” Zandra supplied.

  Alisha gave her a warning nudge with an elbow.

  “If you’d like to phrase it so uncouthly,” Maxine retorted. “However, some alien populations find themselves with a shortage of females on their planet. Human women tend to be highly fertile with other races as well as their
own.”

  “So...you’re dealing babymakers,” Zandra said.

  Alisha tried to hide a laugh behind a cough.

  “Again, your phrasing,” Maxine replied archly. She turned her focus to Alisha, the tone of her voice changing, becoming upbeat. “Inside the binder is an abbreviated selection of potential matches. If you find yourselves interested after perusing, we could add your profiles to our system to begin the registration process.”

  Zandra raised an eyebrow at the mention of “profiles.” Fat chance, she thought as Alisha opened the book. Zandra leaned over to see. The first picture was of a blue-skinned alien with yellow-and-orange eyes. Large fangs hung out of his mouth, and a fluffy pelt covered his muscular shoulders and arms. There was a description following. It read:

  NAME: Ipt Klygeo

  SPECIES:TIH’EM

  PLANET: IVON KHOR

  “He looks dangerous,” Zandra pointed out.

  “Yeah,” Alisha replied, biting her lip. “But those muscles…”

  “You’d have to watch out for those fangs,” Zandra mumbled as Alisha giggled.

  “He’s a very kind and gentle soul,” Maxine claimed as Alisha turned the page to a golden-skinned alien. His eyes were a deep brown, his hair long and silver. The way he’d posed made him look like an underwear model. “Yorth is a crown prince. He might be a good match for you.”

  “What kind of planet does he live on?” Alisha asked.

  “It’s a tropical climate,” Maxine replied.

  “Oooh! I could do with a life on the beach, drinking fruity concoctions,” Alisha remarked.

  Zandra already had her phone out and was doing a quick search on the planet listed on the prince’s profile. She coughed. “Um, Leesh.”

  “What?” Alisha frowned, glancing at Zandra’s phone.

  “It’s a desert planet.” She held up her phone so her friend could see better. “It’s near a star that’s about to go all-out supernova. Most of the population is dying from lack of resources.”

  Zandra and Maxine shared a glare as Alisha looked back down at the binder. “He’s not really a prince, is he, Maxine? He’s just one of the few survivors of the hundred-year drought.” Zandra smiled at the matchmaker. Checkmate.

  “Which is predicted to end soon,” Maxine shot back. Her voice was bright, but her eyes spat acid at Zandra, who couldn’t help but think the drought would end at the same time the planet did. “How about some champagne, ladies? That is what you came for, Miss Zane, isn’t it?”

  “Sounds great,” Zandra replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She already believed this woman to be a hack.

  Maxine got up from her chair and walked to her desk. She opened a drawer, which held a sleek black communications console. She leaned over the device and pressed a button. “This is Maxine. Send some champagne to my office, please.”

  She returned to her seat and focused her attention on Alisha, who was quietly perusing profiles. “Is there anything I can suggest? Anything in a male you are particularly looking for?” She cupped her chin in the palm of her hand.

  Alisha sighed. “Well, I would like to go on an adventure,” she replied wistfully. “I don’t just want a man to take care of me. I want a best friend, you know?”

  “I’m your best friend!” Zandra said. “Why do you need a man to be your best friend? No. Scratch that. Why do you need an alien man to be your best friend? Why do you even need to leave Earth?”

  “Zandra, I know that you love your job. That’s fine. But I want a family, which is also fine. I want to be a wife and a mother,” Alisha explained, gently squeezing Zandra’s hand. “I really want to do this.”

  She waited quietly while Zandra processed. When her friend said nothing, Alisha continued, “We’ve talked about this.”

  “We’ve talked about how you want a man,” Zandra replied. “But why not a man here on Earth? Why do you have to go so far away?”

  “It’s an opportunity,” Alisha pointed out, shrugging.

  “The opportunity of a lifetime,” Maxine added, ever the saleswoman.

  At that moment, a young man entered. He was wearing black slacks and a matching Oxford, whose rolled-up sleeves exposed a plethora of black work tattoos. He carried a tray with three flutes of pink champagne.

  “Thank you, Mike.” Maxine handed flutes to Alisha and Zandra before taking her own. Mike silently left the room, shutting the door with a soft click behind him.

  “I just don’t know how to choose,” Alisha admitted to Maxine.

  “Don’t worry, dear,” Maxine said superciliously. “We create a profile for you in our database, and then we can find your optimum matches. We have far more clients than those listed in the binder. Then, we can send you email updates whenever you have new matches in the database.”

  “Oh, okay,” Alisha said, nodding her head eagerly.

  Zandra took a large sip of her champagne. She didn’t like how serious her friend was about this. She had been there through all of Alisha’s failed relationships, and she knew that, more than anything, her best friend wanted to be married with kids. However, she just didn’t think this was a good option.

  Most recently, Alisha had been dating a guy for nearly a year. He was everything Alisha wanted—emotionally stable, hardworking, and great with kids. For months, Zandra had watched as the relationship went in the direction that Alisha had hoped. After a while, however, the passion had fizzled on his side, leaving Alisha devastated. This was likely why they were at the matchmaking agency, Zandra realized. Her friend was ready to move on…in more ways than one.

  Meanwhile, Maxine had pulled out a tablet and was beginning to create a profile for Alisha. Her fingers flew over the touchscreen. Zandra sighed as her stomach growled. It seemed she was going to have to suffer through this.

  “How long does it usually take to match someone?” Alisha asked. The hopefulness in her voice cut Zandra to the core.

  “Anywhere from a few minutes to a few weeks,” Maxine told her. “To be honest, we have more clients than we know what to do with. Never fear! We will have you matched and married in no time!”

  Alisha turned to Zandra, giving her an excited grin. Zandra smiled back at her friend.

  About ten minutes later, Alisha’s profile was in the agency’s system. Alisha was beaming. Zandra was starving and miserable. She rolled her head back on her neck, listening to the cracking sound. She was concerned about her friend’s choices, but with Maxine in the room, cheering Alisha on as she went down the path of no return, Zandra would never be able to talk any sense into her.

  “Well,” Maxine said at last, we should get you two ladies back out to the party. Unless, Zandra, you would like to create a profile as well?” She glanced at Zandra, with what could almost be interpreted as a hopeful look. But Zandra could see the hard glitter in the woman’s eyes. She knew very well what Zandra’s response would be.

  “No, thank you,” she replied.

  “Well, you’re missing out,” Maxine said. “The universe is full of lifetimes of good things, and you only need to ask.”

  “Then why aren’t you using your own services?” Zandra asked innocently.

  “Well, I may not look it,” Maxine replied, placing her hand over her heart, “but I, too, am a career woman. It is my life’s work to bring happy couples together the universe over.”

  “Good luck with that,” Zandra said, grabbing Alisha by the arm.

  “Well, if you change your mind,” Maxine said, handing Zandra a tiny pink business card with her information inscribed in gold italics, “I have the perfect match in mind for you.”

  “I doubt it. But thanks anyway,” Zandra said. She crumpled the business card in her fist as she stuffed it into the clutch she carried.

  “Thank you, Maxine,” Alisha said.

  Maxine drew Alisha into a hug. Zandra fought to keep from snorting.

  “My pleasure. See you soon,” the matchmaker replied as she let Alisha go.

  Zandra heard an undertone in
Maxine’s voice that she did not like. This woman is one of the phoniest people I have ever met, she thought. The door to Maxine’s office slammed closed behind them.

  “I’m so excited!” Alisha gushed. “There is no way that this can’t work out.”

  “Come on,” Zandra mumbled as they made their way back toward the party. “I need food. Now.”

  “Why do you always have to be so negative?” Alisha asked as Zandra began piling her plate with a huge assortment of premium appetizers that she was going to make into a very late dinner. She hadn’t checked her phone, but she knew instinctively that it was nearing ten o’clock.

  “I’m not! I’m just…thinking realistically. They are probably going to send you to some planet where the species is not as promised, and there will be like, twenty men to every one woman, and they will want you to pop out a million babies, and then I’ll have to come and rescue you in a spaceship.” Zandra shrugged. “Anyway, I’m completely happy with my life here on Earth. I have a job that I love, my mom, good friends…what do I need to leave for?” She glanced around the room, where knots of women were talking to matchmakers. “You know, if they had actual men here, then they would have their work done for them.”

  “Yeah,” Alisha agreed. “It would have been fun to meet a bunch of alien princes tonight.”

  “Please. I doubt that many of their aliens are princes,” Zandra scoffed, stuffing a California roll in her mouth. She moaned as she chewed. “Oh, yum.”

  “You never know,” Alisha murmured softly.

  Zandra looked over at her friend as she chewed. Alisha was nursing a glass of champagne. Zandra swallowed her mouthful. “You wanna get out of here?”