If this is a deluxe cabin, I can only imagine what the commoners must be doing down in the basement,” Emily joked, trying to figure out how she was going to maneuver past Ty to the pile of luggage stacked next to the couch that was to double as his bed. “I don’t know,” he growled playfully, grabbing her by the waist as she attempted to squeeze by him in the tight confines of the ship’s small cabin. “What are we going to do with all this room?” “Let’s have the Connstarr management team over for a dance,” she quipped, glancing around at their cramped quarters, grateful that she didn’t have to spend too much time in here alone with Ty. “Great idea.” He nodded and danced her backward toward the tiny area in front of the couch. “Just five or six hundred of our closest friends. Then again, I suppose I could invite the boss over to kill some time.” “It’s your funeral,” she replied lightly, and shifted in his arms to better see his face. “I wish we could have gotten adjoining cabins with Helga and Carmen.
