Page 29 of Troubled Skies (Blue Skies #3)
“What has you looking so sad, poussin?” Ren asked.
Before Adrian formulated a satisfying answer, Sylvie returned with their meal. As she placed the dishes in front of them, she turned to Adrian.
“Your luggage will arrive this afternoon. I’ve arranged for it to be brought to the yacht and will call for a driver to take you to your hotel. Your flight to Ibiza will depart tomorrow morning at nine fifteen. If there’s anything else you need, please let me know.”
“Thank you, Sylvie,” Adrian said, and the stew nodded at him, then departed.
Somehow, knowing everything had been taken care of, that his departure from the yacht and Ren would occur in only a matter of hours, did not bring Adrian the relief he had anticipated when he demanded to leave the ship.
If anything, his chest felt hollow, his appetite failing as loneliness swallowed him at the thought of walking away from Ren. Something felt undone between them.
As if he recognized Adrian’s inner turmoil, Ren remained quiet and took a bite of his pancake, then a sip of his coffee.
Adrian was aware of Ren’s gaze on him as he scanned the sand-colored walls of the city across the harbor from where they were docked.
While what little he had seen of Ibiza reminded him of parts of LA or the Baja and felt familiar, Valetta was definitely a part of the world he had never seen before.
His own gaze returned to Ren, and he struggled to find something to say around the lump that had formed in his throat.
“It looks like a beautiful city,” he said.
Ren nodded. “It is. There are more luxurious places in the world, but it is lovely. The old city is one of my favorite parts.” He paused. “If you like, I could show you a bit of it before you leave.”
The temptation to say yes was so strong, but Adrian fought against it, the fear of doing the wrong thing again rising so fast it paralyzed him.
He wanted the right decision to be spending a few more hours with Ren, but he couldn’t say it even as he looked at the city across the harbor as if it were a magical land to which Ren was offering him the key.
“Adrian,” Ren said softly.
Adrian felt the warmth of Ren’s hand taking hold of his own, felt the electricity in his touch, and turned his gaze back to find himself staring into the dark chocolate depths of Ren’s eyes.
They were kind eyes, full of warmth and concern, and Adrian couldn’t find anything but honesty in Ren’s expression.
But then he hadn’t been able to see deception in the cuckholding asshole’s either.
Almost as if he could read Adrian’s thoughts, Ren’s hand closed gently around his, as if he was trying to keep Adrian from pulling away but didn’t want him to feel trapped.
“I am offering you sightseeing and lunch, Adrian, not a proposal of marriage.” Ren’s tone was kind, even a bit playful, but Adrian flinched.
“I know.”
“Then why won’t you say yes? Is it because you’ve decided you no longer like to be with me?”
Which was when it hit Adrian that he was afraid of liking Ren too much, of being unable to let go if he stayed with Ren, of wanting more than Ren could give him.
Or he could give Ren, for that matter. He was a mess with anxiety attacks and triggers from both the plane crash and previous relationships that had blown up in his face because he’d fallen too hard too fast and been blind to who he was really with.
He’d vowed to put that all behind him, and here he was still fucking up by making a big deal out of nothing.
Anger burned hot inside Adrian’s body as he silently scolded himself.
He could do casual. He would do casual. Sightseeing and lunch and then he would say goodbye to Ren, get on a plane, and go have the kind of vacation sex with hot guys he’d been fantasizing about before Ren had whisked him away to his yacht…
and had some of the best sex in his life with a man who cared about him.
“Okay,” Adrian said and watched Ren’s expression light up at that simple word.
“Wonderful. I will let Sylvie know our change in plans and have her make arrangements for us.” Ren started to bring Adrian’s hand to his lips but then let go with a whispering caress of his fingertips as he withdrew.
Adrian missed his touch immediately, then missed Ren’s presence when he disappeared inside the cabin to speak with the chief stew.
He was back a few minutes later, and they finished breakfast in a much easier place than they’d started with Ren sharing bits of information about Valetta and his previous visits, none of which had ever allowed him to be a tourist. “I am very much looking forward to seeing a different side of the city with you,” he said.
An hour later, Ren and Adrian walked down the dock toward a black sedan where two men stood by the front of the car. One was clearly their guide while the other…
“Is that a bodyguard?” Adrian asked.
“Oui. Rigo always accompanies me on outings like this.”
“So, he’s your personal bodyguard.”
“Of course.”
Ren’s nonchalance brought home the whole “prince” thing in a way Adrian hadn’t understood before. The bodyguard’s presence wasn’t noteworthy because Ren was used to it. Adrian found that disconcerting and worrying.
“He wasn’t with us in Ibiza, was he?”
“Non. He was not because we had Rachel.”
That was all the explanation Ren offered as they reached the car, and Ren introduced himself and Adrian to their guide, and Adrian got to see a different side of Ren.
This Ren—who had introduced himself as Henri—stood a little straighter, spoke with more formality, and gave polite nods as their guide welcomed them and introduced himself as Emanuel Cassar, the deputy director of communications for Malta Heritage.
Emanuel expressed his gratitude for their visit, and Adrian recognized that even if this had been arranged at the last minute, Ren was still a foreign dignitary and this, though informal, was not going to be the same as if Adrian had hired a local guide.
Which brought him back to the presence of the bodyguard.
“Are we in danger?” Adrian asked once they were seated in the back of the sedan, Ren behind the bodyguard who was also their driver, and Adrian behind Emanuel.
“Not at all, but my father says it is better to be prepared and have nothing happen than to deal with the aftermath if something does. But do not worry, you are safe with me. I promise, you will barely notice Rigo.”
Adrian was slightly reassured and tried to remind himself this was just a part of Ren’s regular life. It worked for the most part, but he was still thinking about Rigo’s presence when the sedan pulled into a parking lot for what looked like a church.
“Our first stop,” Emanuel said. “This is the Santwarju Ba?ilika ta' Santa Marija, the Sanctuary Basilica of the Assumption of Our Lady, or the Mosta Dome. It is one of our most famous landmarks, and boasts one of the largest unsupported domes in the world. In 1942, a bomb penetrated the dome during Mass, but it failed to explode and many consider this to be a miracle. Please, if you will accompany me, I will be happy to show you the interior.”
The interior was stunning, and Adrian couldn’t stop taking pictures. “This is gorgeous,” he told Ren.
“I agree,” Ren said, but he was looking at Adrian when he said it, and Adrian blushed. Ren smiled as he sidled closer and leaned in to whisper in Adrian’s ear, “I have never played tourist before. I am quite enjoying it.”
“You’re not looking at the church.”
“I am looking at what interests me, poussin.”
The look Ren gave Adrian made his insides turn somersaults. While Adrian tried to sort out how he felt about that, Ren turned to their guide and asked a number of insightful questions that showed Adrian he’d been paying attention all along.
When they got back in the car half an hour later, Adrian knew two things: One, Ren had been right about the bodyguard.
After a few minutes, Adrian had barely noticed him.
And, two, Ren had an unexpectedly keen intellect and lively curiosity that were at odds with the playboy image Adrian had found the day before while he’d done a bit of cyberstalking.
Holed up in the cabin to avoid Ren, Adrian had spent a fair amount of time on celebrity gossip sites and scrolling through Ren’s social media accounts.
Google had given him an endless supply of images where Ren was at parties or events, almost always with some conventionally attractive woman on his arm, looking every inch the prince in his designer clothes with carefully styled hair and curated accessories.
The gossip sites seemed to love Ren, and there had been a number of gushing articles about how perfect Ren and Christiana seemed to be for each other.
Adrian had studied the paparazzi photos of them from the LA movie premiere with interest. If he hadn’t known Ren, hadn’t seen the man’s eyes turn sultry with desire or the casual way he lounged by the pool, a smile drifting across his handsome face, or felt the way Ren always maintained contact with a hand on Adrian’s arm or the small of his back, he might have bought the happy couple act.
But he did know Ren. At least he knew Ren well enough to recognize how he left just enough space between himself and Christiana to make it seem like they were together, but they were often looking in different directions, their body language at odds with each other, Christiana’s elbows frequently a sharp angle pointing at Ren’s side or Ren turned so more of his back was visible to her than his face.
In contrast, Ren was by Adrian’s side nearly the entire time they were inside the church.
Even if they weren’t touching—Ren was completely respectful of giving Adrian space—their bodies often overlapped with Ren’s chest so close Adrian could feel the heat from his body on his back.
Except for the moments Ren had questions for their guide about Malta’s historic preservation efforts, he was always either looking at Adrian or at whatever had caught Adrian’s attention, and he never interrupted if Adrian had questions of his own.
This would have been surprising, but Adrian had also read a few articles in which Ren was featured with other young European royals talking about their charitable pursuits.
Though the gossip focused on Ren’s partying and his status as a heartthrob, he was deeply involved with efforts to preserve Belvaux’s historic sites.
His questions to their guide revealed that his interest was genuine and his knowledge deep and insightful.
When Ren showed pleasure at Adrian’s attention to a small architectural detail, Adrian warmed to his praise.