Page 30 of Troubled Skies (Blue Skies #3)

fifteen

Ren

Their next stop was the St. Paul’s Catacombs where they were greeted by an archeological curator from Malta Heritage who would conduct their tour through the labyrinthian tunnels and tombs that went back to Roman times.

Adrian was endearingly excited and asked question after question of their guide as they made their way through the stone crypts that had served as burial sites for centuries.

Ren loved Adrian’s curiosity and enthusiasm and how enthralled he was by the experience.

After his initial misgivings about Rigo accompanying them, it was clear Adrian was caught up enough in what they were doing that he’d forgotten about the bodyguard.

He also seemed to be forgetting how angry he’d been at Ren for being in Malta in the first place, as well as his embarrassment at winding up in Ren’s bed, at least Ren hoped that was the case.

Smiling at both Adrian’s continued questions and his memories of Adrian’s arrival in his room the night before, Ren followed Adrian and their guides, crossing himself at St. Paul’s Grotto where the archeologist told them the apostle had lived for three months after being shipwrecked on the island.

Ren wasn’t particularly religious, but Belvaux was predominantly Catholic, and he had learned his catechism as a child.

Though the site was interesting to him, he was much more fascinated by Adrian.

As they moved away from the shrine, Ren sought out Adrian’s hand without thinking and gave it a squeeze.

When Adrian squeezed back, Ren’s heart soared, but then something caught Adrian’s eye and he caught up to the archeological guide to ask her another question, leaving Ren feeling bereft.

He ran a hand across the scruff on his chin as their group moved on to another part of the catacomb complex, their guide explaining that they were looking at an agape table, a spot where families would gather to eat special meals in honor of their loved ones.

The table, just like the chambers that surrounded them, had been carved out of the limestone that formed the entire island.

The table was a large, flat circle that rose from the floor of the chamber.

“These tables are a feature that is unique to our catacombs,” the woman told them.

As they moved onward, Ren leaned close to Adrian. “Do you know what agape means, poussin?”

“It’s a kind of love, isn’t it?”

Ren hummed at the way Adrian said the word “love” and agreed with him.

“There are many different forms of love,” Ren said.

“And agape has different meanings as well, but one of those is forgiveness.” Taking hold of Adrian’s hand, Ren brought it to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it.

“I hope you will be able to extend that form of love to me before you leave.”

The conflicted feelings Ren had seen in Adrian’s eyes while they were eating breakfast rose to the surface once again even as his lips parted slightly.

Adrian wanted to say yes, Ren was sure of it, and the rosy flush that graced Adrian’s cheeks made Ren believe he was thinking of a much more intimate form of love.

He held his breath as Adrian opened his mouth to speak.

“We’ll see,” Adrian said, but he didn’t pull his hand away as they followed their guide to the next spot of interest on their tour.

After the catacombs, Emanuel led them through the streets of Mdina and explained some of Malta’s history. While Adrian hung on his every word, Ren had grown increasingly aware of Rigo’s presence after seeing the man frown at his and Adrian’s entwined hands.

Now, he heard the bodyguard inhale sharply as Ren leaned closer to Adrian, about to whisper something in his ear so he could have the pleasure of hearing Adrian’s laugh.

Ren paused and looked over his shoulder, trying to convey with his expression that he was not pleased, but Rigo’s focus was on scanning the people around them.

The bodyguard was uneasy about them being out in the open, that much was clear, so maybe his reaction was more about his concern for Ren’s safety.

Ren’s attention returned to Adrian. The man was an absolute delight, an enchanting breath of fresh air in a world about which Ren had been becoming increasingly jaded.

The endless travel, conversations with people with whom he had little in common except a shared net worth and around whom he was frequently disappointed and bored, the sameness of every city he visited because he seldom had time in his schedule for moments like this, even the partying that had been a welcome relief to his official duties…

all of it stood in stark contrast to how the previous few days had felt while he was in Adrian’s company.

Through Adrian’s eyes, the world was reborn as something new and exciting, and Ren was filled with a near-overwhelming sense of gratitude that Adrian had not only ended up seated across from him on the flight to Heathrow but been all but delivered into his arms. “We’ll see,” Adrian had said, and Ren was going to do everything in his power to turn that into a yes.

Emanuel had walked them through the Mdina gate, a Baroque-style portal that had served as a gatehouse for the walled city in the early 18 th century and now turned so they could see its elaborate facade.

“If you’re a fan of Game of Thrones,” he said, “you might recognize this as one of the entrances to Kings Landing.” He smiled at Adrian’s squeak of excitement.

“It’s become one of our most popular tourist attractions.

If you would like me to take a picture of you in front of it, I’d be happy to oblige. ”

“Absolutely,” Adrian said and handed over his phone before moving into position with the gate was behind him.

“Your Highness?” Emanuel asked.

“I don’t think—” Rigo started to say, but Ren glared him into silence.

“If that is something Adrian would like,” he said. “Poussin, would you like some company in your photo?”

Adrian stared at him for a moment, then smiled and held out his hand. Ren went to him.

They stood side by side, shoulders touching, hands brushing against each other.

Having been photographed so often, Ren knew his angles and how to stand.

He also knew how to keep a natural-looking smile on his face for the long seconds it sometimes took photographers to get their shots on a red carpet.

But none of that mattered right now because the way Adrian looked at him was the only thing he cared about.

“May I kiss you, poussin?” he asked.

Adrian’s emerald eyes widened and his lips parted. And then he smiled. “A kiss from a prince at the entrance to Kings Landing? I think I’d be okay with that.”

“Tu es un délicieux trésor, mon chéri,” Ren replied, and before Adrian could ask what that meant, he wrapped his arms around Adrian, dipped him backwards, and pressed his lips against Adrian’s.

He’d truly meant for it to be just for show, the kind of swoony, romance book kiss that would be a reminder to Adrian of the kisses they had already shared, but once Adrian was in his arms again, once their mouths met, all the longing he had felt at Adrian’s absence, the fear that he had hurt this man beyond his ability to forgive, and the physical need he felt for Adrian took control of his body.

He couldn’t hold back from turning this into a real kiss, full of passion and promise, full of emotion and desire.

Wonder of wonders, Adrian responded. His body became pliant in Ren’s embrace as his arms rose to encircle Ren, hands rising to tangle in Ren’s hair.

Non, it was to pull Ren closer, Adrian’s hands pressing against his shoulder blades, urging him to give Adrian more.

Ren smiled against Adrian’s mouth, which only allowed Adrian’s tongue to sweep inside, to tangle with Ren’s, stroking and tasting, lighting Ren’s very soul on fire.

Ren didn’t let go of Adrian as the kiss ended, and they stared into each other’s eyes. “Does this mean I am forgiven, poussin?” Ren asked, his voice husky with the turmoil that roiled in his blood.

“You’re definitely closer,” Adrian said, then closed the distance between them for a quick and very chaste kiss before Ren helped him to stand upright again.

When Ren finally let himself become aware of the world around them, he saw that the expression on Rigo’s face was mutinous. Then his bodyguard jerked his head to the side where there were people who had watched him and Adrian kiss, then nodded at the wall above them where more people stood.

Ren knew Rigo’s concerns were multiple: the area was completely unsecured, the suddenness of the excursion meant he hadn’t been able to check out the area ahead of time, nor had he been able to fully vet their guide or the hired car.

In Rigo’s mind, any one of these onlookers could cause Ren harm.

Perhaps even more importantly, they could be paparazzi or tourists with phones who might post pictures of Ren on social media if they recognized him.

And that kiss? The gossip sites would love another shot of Ren with a guy since Ren’s father had already paid to keep the ones with Maurice under wraps.

Ren knew he should care, but he didn’t because he’d kissed Adrian again, and Adrian had said his forgiveness was in sight.

“What’s next?” Adrian asked as Emanuel handed him his phone.

“This is where I leave you,” Emanuel replied. “So, I believe that’s up to you.”

Adrian turned to Ren as their guide departed. “Are we heading back to the yacht?”

Ren hoped the flatness in Adrian’s voice was caused by sadness at the prospect of their time together coming to an end.

“We are not actually,” he said. “We are going to lunch.”

Back in the car, Adrian immediately scrolled through the photos Emanuel had taken. His sharp inhale of breath made Ren lean over.