Page 31 of Troubled Skies (Blue Skies #3)

“You are beautiful, chéri,” Ren said, staring at the picture Emanuel had taken of them standing side by side in front of the gate.

He was turned fully toward Adrian, his expression almost worshipful as he gazed at the man.

It wasn’t his most flattering angle, and the royal publicist would be horrified if that image made it onto social media, but Ren didn’t care because Adrian was looking at Ren with a similar expression on his face.

His red hair glowed even in the shadows of the city walls, and Ren longed to enlarge the image so the screen showed only Adrian.

“Will you show me the rest?” Ren asked, and Adrian obliged by swiping through the images. They both sighed when they got to the ones where they were kissing.

Adrian smirked. “I should send this one to Luis. He would absolutely lose his shit.”

“You should,” Ren agreed. “If only to let him know you are alive and have made it to Malta unharmed.”

“Are you sure? I could send one of the ones that’s just me, or where we’re standing together, but not…” Adrian waved his hand at the image of them.

“Absolument. You trust Luis, so I am not concerned if this is what you choose to send.”

“Okay. But I take no responsibility for what happens after.”

Adrian sent the photo with the caption: Made it to Malta. Here’s what I’m doing today.

“I don’t expect to get a reply,” Adrian said, “It’s four in the—” He was interrupted by his phone buzzing with the arrival of a message.

Obvs, you mean WHO you’re doing, bitch! I am so jealous!

Ren assumed that was from Luis, but before he could ask, another message arrived.

Love that you’re having a good time, sweetheart.

“That’s from Darius,” Adrian explained. “Luis’s husband. He’s the voice of reason.”

Another buzz and another message appeared: I don’t even want to know you, grrl! JK! Don’t let Henri behead me. ??

It was followed by a more sedate, Glad to know you’re okay. We can still stage a rescue if you want one from Darius. It was followed by a string of heart emojis.

“Sorry about Luis,” Adrian said and began to type a response.

“He is a delight,” Ren said as he took hold of the phone and raised an eyebrow at Adrian to ask for permission to respond. He grinned when Adrian nodded his head then crowded close to watch what Ren was typing.

Bonjour. This is Henri. I do not believe a rescue is necessary as we are going to lunch now but thank you for looking out for Adrian. Perhaps I will get to meet you when I am in LA next.

Pressing Send, Ren handed the phone back to Adrian who laughed at Luis’s single-word response: Swoon

Darius was a bit blunter: Damn, grrl. You better not mess this up. I want to meet this prince of yours.

As Rigo turned onto a street that bordered Valetta harbor, Ren agreed with Darius.

He wanted to meet these friends of Adrian’s who were so concerned about his well-being, but trusted Ren to take care of him.

This prince of yours …Ren watched Adrian as he continued texting with his friends and thought how very much he would like for it to be true.

He knew that was up to Adrian and hoped the meal they were about to experience would help sway the man to stay with him.

Rigo brought the car to a stop in front of a four-story hotel with a subdued and understated facade. As unassuming as it looked, Ren knew it belied the presence of one of the city’s best restaurants on the rooftop.

As they exited the car, Ren held his hand out for Adrian’s and was gratified when Adrian’s warm palm touched his. Then he led them through the hotel lobby to the bank of elevators. They stepped inside the lift, and Ren pushed the button for Iconic.

“Are you familiar with this restaurant?” Ren asked as they began to rise.

“I have eaten at the chef’s other establishments in London, Paris, and Dubai, but never this one,” Ren said after Adrian shook his head.

“They have all been incroyables. Absolument parfaits. I hope you will enjoy this experience.”

“I’m sure I will,” Adrian responded. “I’ve enjoyed everything we’ve done together so far.”

The elevator reached the roof and the doors opened before Ren could unstick his tongue and find the words to answer. So, he settled for stepping into the light-filled atrium where the most delectable smells reached him.

“Oh, my God,” Adrian said as he leaned against Ren. “This place is amazing.”

A besuited man stepped out from behind a desk to greet them with a slight bow. “Good afternoon, Your Highness. I am Jerome, the restaurant manager. It is a pleasure to have you and your guest with us this afternoon. If you care to follow me, I will take you to your table.”

They were seated side by side at a table on the terrace that gave them a spectacular view of the harbor. The Belleza del Sol was visible, and Ren noted with some satisfaction that the yacht dwarfed all others in the marina.

“Is that our ship?” Adrian asked as they settled into their seats.

“It is indeed,” Ren told him.

Adrian nodded, taking in the rest of the breathtaking view of the harbor and city as the manager clapped his hands together.

“If there is anything I can do to make your meal more pleasurable, I will be happy to assist you. Our menu is built around locally sourced ingredients with a premium put on organic and sustainable. Your server and sommelier will be with you shortly to present your first course of pairings,” the manager said before nodding to Ren and departing.

Before Ren could say anything to Adrian, a waiter appeared and placed their first course in front of them. “For your amuse-bouche, the chef has prepared an heirloom tomato tartare with fermented basil gel nestled on a crisp buckwheat cracker and finished with a drop of first press olive oil.”

Adrian lifted his fork, but then the sommelier stepped forward to present them her offering before they could taste it.

She poured them both glasses of champagne.

“For your first pairing, I’ve chosen a Champagne Fluery Blanc de Noirs Brut with notes of crisp apple and brioche to complement the flavors of the tomato and basil. Bon appétit, gentlemen.”

Once the waiter and sommelier were out of earshot, Adrian leaned over and asked Ren if it would be wrong of him to take pictures of his food. Ren laughed.

“Do as you wish, poussin, no one will tell you to stop.”

Adrian pulled out his phone while Ren took a sip of champagne and then his first taste of Iconic’s food.

Flavor exploded on his tongue, and he closed his eyes in appreciation, smiling as he heard Adrian moan softly.

If this was how they were starting, it was going to be a meal to remember.

He opened his eyes and took in Adrian’s beatific smile.

“Is it wrong if I enjoy this meal more than what Rachel has served us?” he asked.

Ren laughed. “Not at all. The chef was one of her mentors, and she is responsible for us getting a reservation on such short notice.” Ren leaned closer. “She will want a full accounting when we return.”

“Then I’ll take lots of pictures for her,” Adrian said, but then he looked at Ren, his gaze turning wistful, and extended his hand toward Ren. “Thank you.”

“There is nothing to thank me for, Adrian, but it is my pleasure to do what I can so I may see you smile.” Ren took Adrian’s hand in his and entwined their fingers.

The shy smile that graced Adrian’s lips might be Ren’s favorite.

While he loved Adrian’s brash side, and adored how fiery the man’s quick temper burned, those moments when Adrian turned quiet and soft as if he didn’t know what to do or say next made Ren’s heart turn tender and want things he wasn’t sure he could have.

“I enjoy your company immensely, Adrian,” he said softly and delighted in the gentle blush that crept across Adrian’s cheeks.

“I enjoy yours, too.” Adrian looked down at his empty plate. “What do you think comes next?”

“We are completely at the chef’s mercy,” Ren told him. “But I have no doubt it will all be delicious.” He gave Adrian’s hand a squeeze and then forced himself to let go as their plates were cleared by a uniformed employee.

All together, there were twelve courses, each dish building on the one before with flavors that blended and complemented each other beautifully.

The second course of locally harvested wild oysters gave way to a remarkable clear autumn mushroom consommé and then line-caught amberjack accompanied by a cucumber and green-apple gazpacho.

The wine pairings were surprising and always on point.

Ren appreciated the sommelier’s palate and nose as well as the variety of domains.

He’d had too many meals where full enjoyment had been denied because of poor wine choices that deadened his taste buds rather than awakened them to the nuances of the food.

Even better than the food was watching Adrian’s hedonistic side rise closer to the surface with each course.

He had seen this happen their first night on the yacht, watched Adrian succumb to the seduction of fine dining.

In skillful hands, food could be a powerful aphrodisiac, the succession of courses building to a climax in much the same way an attentive lover could bring their partner to orgasm.

And while Ren had no expectations beyond sharing this meal with Adrian, he did hope it would remind Adrian of how spectacular they were together.

Watching Adrian savor the house-fermented ancient grain sourdough they’d been served with a “trio of hand-churned butters that will prepare your palate for the richer flavors to come,” Ren realized his attraction to Adrian had gone beyond just the physical.

Their tour this morning had revealed different facets of Adrian to him, and he was as eager to see more as he was fearful he would not have the opportunity.

But he resisted the urge to take Adrian’s hand in his again and beg the man to forgive him and say yes to the entirety of the trip.