Page 39 of Troubled Skies (Blue Skies #3)

nineteen

Adrian

“No.” Adrian crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Ren who had been trying to convince him to wear the Armani suit—sans shirt—to dinner with the officers for the past ten minutes. He had no objection to the suit itself, it was the lack of shirt that bothered him.

“But it fits you so well, poussin, and you look so sexy in it, I will not be able to keep my hands off you.”

Adrian raised an eyebrow. “That’s the problem. I am not going to be paraded in front of the officers like I’m your boy toy while you’re in a suit and tie.” He cast an appreciative glance at Ren who looked devastatingly handsome in his dark blue suit, his sun-kissed hair brushing his shoulders.

“D’accord,” Ren said. “I will mourn the loss for the entire dinner, but I concede the point. You are far more than an amusement for me, and I do not wish the officers to treat you like you are a trifle.”

Ren’s admission warmed Adrian’s heart, and he finished dressing then met Ren by the door.

They exited the cabin and descended to the Main Deck where Ren led him along a corridor until they reached the door for the Officers’ Mess.

Ren held it open and motioned for Adrian to precede him.

The officers had already been seated around the table, but they immediately rose to their feet.

All of them were in formal dress for the evening, and Adrian was surprised to see Rigo among them.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Henri Renard Sebastian de Montclair and guest,” the chief officer called out, and they all inclined their heads in Ren’s direction and murmured, “Your Highness.”

Adrian wondered if he should do the same, wondered if he should have asked Ren more questions about protocol for this evening, but Ren brought him forward. “Gentlemen. My companion, Mr. Adrian Bennett.”

Ren spoke in a voice Adrian had started calling his prince voice.

It was deeper and more formal than his usual speaking voice, and Adrian had heard it in both Valetta and Athens when Ren spoke to their guides.

The soft voice with the French inflections?

Adrian only heard that when they were together, and it gave him a bit of a thrill to know he saw sides of Ren very few others did.

“Mr. Bennett,” the captain said, his voice betraying a slight Italian accent. “How nice of you to join us.”

The captain and his officers gave Adrian a stiff nod, and Adrian felt Ren’s hand tighten around his own.

It was clear he wasn’t pleased with the reception, but Adrian was grateful he’d stuck to his guns and insisted on wearing a shirt and tie with his suit.

He’d have felt so out of place if he hadn’t, even if it would have pleased Ren.

“May I present my officers?” the captain asked.

Adrian nodded, but the names and ranks of the people who were introduced went over his head, and he was distracted by the tension in Ren’s grip.

His glance was as subtle as he could make it, a slight eyebrow raise that he hoped only Ren could see, and got a small head shake in return.

Then Ren led him to a seat at the table and pulled out Adrian’s chair.

Again, the room crackled with tension, and Adrian guessed that Ren might not be following protocol again.

When Ren sat and directed the officers to do likewise, Adrian knew he’d been correct.

He’d have to ask Ren about it later, but then Ren’s leg pressed against his, and he forgot about it.

The conversation was largely awkward and uninteresting.

As Sylvie and Veronique began service—always serving Ren first, then the captain, and then Adrian—the talk was largely about the weather they were going to encounter, their passage through the Suez, and something that was causing the Chief Engineer no end of problems with one of the ship’s systems. Adrian had no idea what they were talking about, which was fine because he was largely ignored.

By the second course—a delicious Vichyssoise—he’d noticed that Ren was also being ignored by the officers and nudged the man with his knee.

Ren nudged back, and Adrian stifled a laugh around a spoonful of soup while Ren hid his smile behind his napkin.

And so it went through the salad, and the main for which Rachel had prepared seared duck breast with a rich dark cherry sauce.

About halfway through that course, the captain cleared his throat and folded his hands on the table.

“Your Highness, we have some items to discuss before we conclude our meal.”

Ren inclined his head. “By all means, proceed.”

“I am afraid I am going to have to restrict you and your companion to the yacht for the rest of our voyage. None of our upcoming ports are suitable for you to explore, and they pose particular risks that I have deemed too great.”

Raising an eyebrow, Ren fixed the captain with a steady gaze. “Because you don’t think I will be safe? Or because you do not think I will be safe if Adrian accompanies me?”

“Both, Your Highness. Unfortunately, it is very clear that your…relationship may endanger you both.”

“I have spent time in these places before,” Ren said. “Maurice and I have traveled together many times without incident.”

“Maurice is not Adrian,” the captain replied.

Adrian saw the flash of fire in Ren’s eyes, the stormy look that clouded his features, and nudged him under the table because he understood what the captain wasn’t saying.

They were traveling to countries that had strict anti-LGBTQ laws.

Having Adrian at his side would put Ren at risk and possibly cause an international incident if something were to happen to the Belvauvian prince.

He understood, and nudged Ren’s knee, wanting Ren to look at him so he could say it was fine.

When Ren didn’t acknowledge the subtle tap against his leg, Adrian put his hand on top of Ren’s.

“And that, right there, is the problem, Your Highness,” the captain said, interrupting Ren as he started to speak, and pointing at the two of them.

“Despite your father’s feelings on the matter, despite the risk of paparazzi catching you in another impolitic moment, you have proved incapable of keeping your hands to yourself when you are in public. ”

Adrian snuck a glance at Rigo, who gave him an infinitesimal nod, and knew Ren’s bodyguard had been reporting back to the captain.

His face burned with embarrassment and a hot flash of anger that his and Ren’s private moments had been a topic of discussion amongst the officers.

As he wondered if Ren’s father had been informed, Ren squeezed his hand, and Adrian tuned back into the conversation as the captain continued.

“Even at this table, you cannot contain yourself,” the captain said, gesturing at his and Ren’s entwined hands.

“If someone were to see you, if you were to touch Adrian in an affectionate way…the risk is too great, Your Highness. You may be unaware of the looks that pass between the two of you, but that does not mean others cannot see them, and there is very little disguising your relationship with each other.”

“Adrian and I are adults. We are capable of controlling ourselves.”

“You have repeatedly failed to do so. I have not spoken to your father about the matter, Your Highness, but I will if you refuse to see reason.”

“I have done everything you have asked of me on this voyage,” Ren said, anger making his voice tight. “Adrian has never been to Jeddah before, and I had hoped to show him the city.”

The captain shook his head. “That won’t be possible. For the reasons I’ve already discussed, and also because Prince Faisal has requested to see you.”

A smile lit up Ren’s face, which surprised Adrian. “I was not aware our itinerary had been made public,” he said, amusement replacing the anger in the blink of an eye.

The captain gave Ren a wry smile in return.

“I am sure the royal family was notified when our request for a berth at the marina was made along with our passenger manifest.” Sobering, the captain nodded at Adrian who found himself lost again.

“Adrian will need to remain on board the Belle while you join the prince.”

“Oui, je sais,” Ren said with a glance at Adrian, who instantly recognized Ren had dropped out of prince mode. “I am sorry, poussin.”

“It’s fine. At least I won’t know what I’m missing.” He gave Ren what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Bon.” Ren squeezed Adrian’s hand and turned to address Sylvie. “I will need to arrange a suitable present for Faisal if we are to meet.”

“Of course, Your Highness, I’ll take care of it.”

“Bon.” Ren turned to the captain, and it was clear to Adrian that the matter was closed.

“D’accord. I understand what you have said.

” He glanced at Adrian who was toying with the food still left on his plate, his appetite having fled during the conversation.

“Are you finished with your meal, poussin?”

Adrian nodded. The duck had been excellent, but it now sat heavy in his stomach, so he gladly took Ren’s hand and let himself be helped from the table.

The officers stood as well, bowing their heads as Ren ushered Adrian from the room.

He conducted them through a door that led to the yacht’s exterior and then to the lounge area above the pool while Adrian’s mind reeled from what had happened in the previous minutes.

There had been too many layers in the captain’s conversation for Adrian to unpack all of it in the moment, and he opted to push aside what the man had said about his relationship with Ren because he couldn’t accept what it had implied.

Nor did he want to think about how Ren in prince mode had been both hot and unsettling.

Instead, he opted for the most obvious question.

“Who is Prince Faisal?”

Ren smiled much as he had when the name had first come up. “He is a member of the Saudi family. We became friends at university.”

“At Oxford.”

“Oui. It is where I met Maurice as well.”