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"What if you offer them a bonus? That always works."
He smiled. "They have prior obligations, so adding days to the cruise is a no-go. We also can't make it back in two days. We were going full speed to get to Acapulco first and then planned to go slow on the way back. It will take us about twice as long to get back to Long Beach, so you need to figure on three and a half to four days. We can still do it and just idle at sea for the remainder of the cruise, but we won't be able to pick up Margo, which is not a big deal. If she wants to join the cruise so badly, she can fly to Long Beach and meet us there. "
Syssi sighed. "That just adds complexity and doesn't solve the problem."
Cupping her cheek, he leaned and took her lips in a soft kiss. "Let me suggest a better plan. We will stop at Cabo like we planned, spend half a day there so people can get ashore and enjoy a taste of the place, and collect Margo. Then, instead of continuing to Mazatlán and Topolobampo, we continue to Long Beach, drop the women off, and head out to sea again just so we can finish celebrating the rest of the weddings."
"That doesn't shorten the time the women have to spend on board by much." Syssi worried her lower lip. "Do you think Vanessa can help them via tele-meetings?"
"That's the best idea you've had so far, my love." He took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. "That way, I don't have to lift the lockdown, and Vanessa doesn't need to leave Mo-red behind. She can choose to do group therapy or have individual sessions with the women."
This latest idea seemed to cheer Syssi up. "We need to clone Vanessa. Do you know if there are any therapists in the other clan locations? Maybe we can bribe them to join the village."
"We can ask my mother. She would know."
Oddly, the study of psychology didn't seem to attract more immortals, even though issues of the mind afflicted immortals as much as humans. Then again, one therapist had been enough to take care of the clan population, but that equation changed when Vanessa took upon herself the management of the sanctuary.
Perhaps now that she was mated to Mo-red, who couldn't join her there, she would be open to transferring the job to an administrator. After all, the humans they rescued were served by human therapists, and the only reason an immortal needed to be in charge of the operation was to make sure that no one figured out who the rescuers were.
Dagor
Toven had arrived with Mia's spare wheelchair before Frankie had a chance to get dressed, but he hadn't entered the room, and wished Frankie a speedy recovery without looking in.
After he left, Frankie sat up in bed and put the garment her friend had brought for her in her lap.
"I can't believe that I'm being allowed to leave here so soon." She fumbled with the ties on her hospital gown.
"Can I help you with that?" Dagor offered.
"I am fine." She opened them one at a time and let the gown drop back.
He loved that she was comfortable enough around him to get naked without asking him to turn around.
From his experience, women got bashful about their nudity when not actively engaging in sex, but his Frankie was a confident female, and rightfully so.
Her breasts were perfection, and he had a hard time telling his fangs to stand down and stop elongating. Despite her rapid recovery, she was still not well enough for rigorous activities.
"I'm not going to bother with a bra." She pulled the shapeless garment over her head, hiding her perky breasts from him. "No one will notice it with this tent on, and I'm going to hit the shower as soon as I get to my cabin, so there is no point." She offered him a hesitant smile that was not like her usual ones.
He frowned. "Is something wrong? Are you feeling any discomfort?"
"No, I don't feel any pain at all, which is freaking me out a little."
Maybe that was why she wasn't smiling at him as radiantly as usual. Hopefully, it wasn't anything he had done or said or something that he had failed to do or say. Females had a tendency to expect their partners to know what they wanted and to get upset when they didn't.
Dagor was in a unique position of being able to peek into Frankie's mind and see what she wanted, but that was an invasion of privacy, and the only time it was justified was when lives were on the line. That left him guessing, and he wondered whether other males had such a difficult time figuring out what the proper thing to say or do was.
As with everything else, there was a spectrum, and he was probably closer to the lower end of the spectrum when it came to the ability to decipher subtle cues.
As Frankie swung her legs over the side of the bed, he caught her before her feet touched the floor. "Small steps." He held her to him for a little longer than necessary before helping her into the wheelchair.
It had just felt so good to hold her like that, but now he was paying the price with an uncomfortable erection straining his jeans.
Frankie lifted her face to smile at him with the full radiance he had gotten used to seeing before her injury. "That was nice. I was afraid that seeing me like this had cooled your attraction to me. I'm glad to be proven wrong." She lowered her gaze to his zipper, which was right at her eye level.
Crouching next to her, he put his hands on her knees. "You are always beautiful to me, Frankie. Even when you are covered in dirt, and your hair is sticking out in all directions."
She cupped his cheek. "That's sweet of you to say, but I know that you like seeing me nicely put together."
