Page 26

26

Hex

Aran and I get dressed, instruct Mong what to do if he finishes the security shift before we are back, and head out. With the make-up both of them are wearing, it really looks like they’ve swapped their ages. I love this version of Aran too, but I won’t lie—I prefer him older.

Maybe it’s because those extra few lines near his eyes add more character, or maybe it’s because of the way his jaw is a little sharper, like it’s set perfectly into the shape it should be. He usually exudes maturity, intimidation and an aura of dependence, all three of which tickle some deep part inside me, while when I look at his face now, I see a rebel bad boy with a short temper.

I chuckle to myself. I can picture him being like that in his twenties. If he got along with dad and since they served together, he must have been a little crazy and dangerous. Not that he isn’t now—quite the contrary—but he isn’t impulsive and nor does he get riled up easily, like he used to when we were both younger.

“Would you enlighten me what’s so funny?” Aran says as we enter the elevator that will take us to the greenhouse level.

I glance at him, unable to help my eyes as they roam him from head to toe. He looks absolutely delicious in Mong’s VIP lounge uniform, which Mrs. Lynx requested he wear. It’s different that the one he, and by extension Aran, wears at the dining hall. More expensive. More exclusive. The vest and dress pants are a deep, almost black, blue, while the shirt underneath is burgundy. We are so lucky both he and Mong have a similar build, or the clothes would have been too small. As it is now, they hug him very tightly, showcasing all of his assets.

“It might also be a good idea to refrain from looking at me this evening. You’re drooling a bit,” he adds, his lips lifting on one side.

Did he just make a joke at his own expense? I knew he had it in him.

“Your ass just looks so… appetizing . It makes me want to bite into it.” I mime just that as a thrill of desire slithers inside me. “You shouldn’t be allowed to wear clothes so snug.”

“It’s part of tonight’s mission. And you better not let yourself get distracted by it.”

Easier said than done, even if he pulls his stern and authoritative voice on me. “Dream on. I’m the pinnacle of professionalism. I never get distracted.”

He pets me on the head. “That’s a good boy.”

My cock takes immediate notice of the praise and the way his facial muscles try to suppress a smirk as he realizes I’ve almost slipped over to being very unprofessional. But I can’t really help it—I mean, all it takes is one smidgen of attention from this sexy man and I’m ready to bend over the first available surface.

Still, I channel my inner Buddha and try to remain calm and collected and to pretend I am not already turned on. I almost succeed, but I’ve never been good at meditating, so it’s Aran’s turn to be amused with me. When I ask what’s so funny, he doesn’t say, ignoring my question the same way I ignored his earlier one. It’s only fair, I suppose, but as we make our way to the fountain, he won’t stop peeking at me.

Is there something wrong with the way I look? But I put on what he and Mong picked for me, since the hoodie and tights I wanted to wear apparently weren’t very appropriate for the kind of party we’ll most likely be attending. Instead of that, I’m now clad in white slacks and a fluffy mulberry purple turtleneck with sleeves that only reach my elbows.

I had a look in the mirror—I’d say I look like the treat that I am, but maybe Aran doesn’t like this hue of purple on me…

Just as I am about to ask, we are spotted by Mrs. Lynx, who waves us over with a big smile. She’s put on a bright red pencil dress which reminds me of Eleanor’s stilettos, and one of those puffy cropped cardigans over it. The mask she wears in the non-VIP parts of the ship is also present. While I expected Mr. Lynx to be with her, she’s alone.

“Hex, dear! You look marvelous in this purple,” she compliments me, hooking a finger under my chin and scanning me with her eyes from top to bottom.

I can feel Aran vibrating next to me. It both excites and scares me because what if he acted out of character like he did when Mong got too close? I’d be thrilled he is so obsessed with and possessive of me, but punching or strangling the woman who’s about to take us to a party full of drunk and distracted VIPs would be the worst thing for our mission. Besides, I am sure he will have plenty of opportunities to show his undying love for me and claim me in public when this cruise is over.

“Thank you, Mrs. Lynx. Mong helped me pick.” I tip my head at Aran.

Her attention shifts to him and a dark spark appears in her blue gaze. He is mouth-watering, I know, but he’s also obviously taken. By me. Once we are off this ship, I will make sure everyone knows it.

“I can tell he has very good taste indeed,” she comments, looking between me and him. “Now, shall we get going? The guests have already started arriving.”

We both nod and she loops her arm around mine, taking the lead. Aran keeps a pace behind as we follow a meandering path through the greenhouse. Blooming flowers, tall trees and colorful bushes surround us, beautiful and sweet-smelling. I spot various butterflies fluttering around too, but I lose interest in them rather quickly as the moon appears above the vaulted glass ceiling and covers everything in a sheen of silvery light.

It’s magical, as if we’ve been transported into a fairy tale and are about to stumble upon a wild ball. The pond to our left shimmers under the caress of the moon, and just beyond it, situated between two trees, is a carved wooden door.

“Very few know about this place,” Mrs. Lynx says, stroking my forearm.

Is that true though, considering how many people we estimated might be in attendance? This is an exclusive event, so the majority would be top VIPs and their PAs, not regular staff or those rich motherfuckers who didn’t make the cut, so I guess she has a point.

“I’m very excited,” I tell her, not lying.

I’m buzzing, because this feels like ten steps forward all at once. Aran is with me too, so I won’t have to worry about anything—at the smallest sign of danger, I’m sure he’ll go Rambo mode for me.

“So am I, dear. I’ve been wanting to invite you to one of my inner parties for a while. Everyone has been asking about you.” She approaches the door and opens a covered panel, where she enters a password and scans her retina. With a soft click and a whoosh, the middle of the carved wood splits, both parts disappearing to the sides and into the two trunks. “I’m sure you will love it. After you.”

A spiraling staircase awaits us on the other side, illuminated by fake sconces. Real ones would be a fire hazard, so I understand why they’ve opted for replicas that run on electricity. We descend maybe two levels before we reach a gilded door that Mrs. Lynx opens for us. I’ve kind of lost my sense of direction, so I am not entirely sure where we are other than somewhere at the back of the ship.

The narrow corridor decorated with blue fairy lights leads us to a busy parlor. People with crystal glasses in their hands have occupied the love seats and couches that are tucked against the white walls, talking agitatedly between themselves. In the middle of the space in an empty cage with a dozen cushions, and while I don’t judge people’s tastes, it strikes me as a little odd in terms of interior design. But what do I know about the trends among the upper class? Maybe it’s an art installation like the Greek archways and columns scattered around the room, and its bars, ceiling, and floor are made of platinum. I’ve also read that precious metals can be a safer way to store your wealth than currencies, so it’s two birds with one stone, really.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Mr. Lynx sighs wishfully next to me as we pause next to the cage and she reaches out to touch it. She’s taken her mask off, just like the rest of her visitors, some of which I vaguely recognize, but not really. “It was custom-made and we don’t go anywhere without it.”

I mouth an ‘ Oh’ which makes her giggle. “It’s yours? And you take it with you when you travel?” That sounds like a ton of trouble to me, but maybe the cage carries some sentimental value to her and Mr. Lynx. “Isn’t it inconvenient?”

“Nothing is inconvenient when you can afford it, dear. But, ah, as I thought, you are curious about it, then?”

The cage? I mean, it’s just a fancy cage, not exactly exciting. But not wanting to be rude, I inspect it again, faking a bit more enthusiasm into my voice when I speak next. “Of course. It’s very, um, intriguing. I’ve seen cages before, of course, but nothing comes close.”

My words seem to please her as her smile grows. “Let’s show Mong to the bar and grab something to drink. I have to say hi to a few people, but then I’ll introduce you to my friends. They have prepared a special gift for you.”

A gift? But they don’t even know me…

“That’s so nice of them. I wonder what it might be!”

We cross into the next room hand in hand, greeting various people as we pass by them. And there are lots of them, like a third of the ship’s VIPs have decided to be here tonight. It tells me this is no ordinary party, but even as I rack my brain, I can’t figure out how just yet.

I’ve also not seen Eleanor, and I doubt she’d be missing something like this. As Mrs. Lynx’s PA, she must be the one who organized it, and now that I think about it, considering the scale of this thing, maybe that’s why I couldn’t get in touch with her—she was too busy making sure everything was ready for tonight.

The strange way Mrs. Lynx reacted when we last spoke about Eleanor pops into my mind. I need to follow up on that, but without making it blatantly obvious that I am fishing for something. As we reach the round marble bar situated in the middle of the crowded lounge, I suddenly have an idea.

Discreetly, I give Aran the thumbs up as he takes his place behind the counter and begins preparing drinks for us. He spins bottles in the air, tosses ice from across the counter into the glasses and in no time gathers a small group of interested guests. It’s like he’s done this his entire life, and he’s so good at it that even the other bartenders pause what they are doing in order to watch him.

Pride buds inside me. He’s amazing, the best. He can do anything. An urge to hug him almost blows my cover, but I grind my teeth down and resist it. Once we are back in our cabin, we’ll cuddle to my heart’s content. We’ll do some other things too, I guarantee it, because I’m nothing if not resourceful when I get horny.

“Mrs. Lynx. Hex,” Aran says in his deep bass, smiling flirtatiously as he slides the two glasses to us. “Your drinks. I based each on your personality and what I have observed about your preferences. I hope you enjoy them.”

Knowing myself, this can be bad news. I am too awesome to be contained in a drink, but I won’t lie—it also intrigues me how Aran sees me.

I lift the blue-tinted drink and sniff it before taking a sip. There is a hint of blueberry and kiwi which persist in the taste too. The tonic he’s added gives the drink a lovely fizz alongside the tinge of bitterness, while the slices of orange at the bottom enhance it with tang and sweetness as the ice slowly crushes them.

My heart gallops as I swallow the delicious concoction. It’s refreshing, but the combination of contrasts also keeps me on the edge, as I don’t know what to expect from the aftertaste. It could be sweet, or bitter, or sour, or a combination of all three. I take a moment and tune in to my taste buds while Mrs. Lynx tries her drink, aw-ing and oh-ing in appreciation.

There is a little bit of everything in the aftertaste, a fusion of the drink’s core elements. It makes me thirsty for more and so I take another sip and then another until there is nothing left. I don’t even realize it at first, but as I stare at my empty glass, my already frantic pulse skyrockets into something wild.

Is this how Aran sees me then? As something he can’t get enough of? Electricity races all across my skin, prickly and pleasant. I’m suddenly on the best rollercoaster of my life, my stomach doing somersaults while my heart tries to beat out of my chest. Aran adores me. I think I’m going to pass out.

“Hex.” His hand gathers mine firmly, as if he doesn’t want to let go. I twist my head at Mrs. Lynx, letting out a sigh of relief as I realize she’s too busy moaning at her drink to notice our intimate moment. “I’ll probably be stuck here for a while, but I’ll slip out the first chance I get. Please, be careful and don’t go anywhere alone with her.”

The growly quality to his voice engulfs me in a pleasant chokehold. I don’t want to separate from him either, but I don’t think we have a choice. We need to play our parts at least until people stop paying attention or they might figure out we aren’t here simply to enjoy the party.

“I’ll try, but I think it’s fine? She said she wanted to introduce me to some friends, so it doesn’t sound like we’ll be alone…”

He squeezes my fingers, using his thumb to caress them. “I still don’t like it. There’s been something about her from the start.” Another growl-like sound has him take a deep breath to collect himself. I rarely see him so worked up and knowing that I am the reason for it does funny things to my insides.

Glancing up at him is a mistake I regret immediately. Because the calm, level-headed man I am used to is nowhere to be seen. Instead of him, I am faced with slanted eyebrows and a tense jaw, with eyes that implore me to stay. Every fiber of me screams to comply—I can’t explain it. It’s like something has triggered inside me, compelling me to do what he asks so he can return to normal, to being in control and keeping me safe.

It almost feels like we’ve developed an invisible connection, a link that ties only us. He’d do anything for me and so would I for him. It’s an urge that’s really hard to fight the longer I gaze into his eyes. I see his soul there, in its rawness, and it is the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed. It’s selfish, it wishes to monopolize me, to lock me up and worship me. We are true soul mates, there is no doubt left in my mind, just like I knew it all along.

“You are really contradicting yourself, you know,” I say playfully, adjusting my collar as a sudden bout of heat crosses through me. “You keep acting all possessive daddy with me, but insist you aren’t into it.”

“I am not—”

I raise my finger and wave it. “Nuh-uh. Just look at the mirror above the shelf behind you.”

My words seem to hit a nail, because in the next moment he’s retracted his hand and schooled his expression into the resting scowl I know and love. As much as I hate to see his mesmerizing vulnerability go, this is better for both of us. Another minute of his soulful pleading eyes and I don’t think I’d have been able to leave this bar even if someone promised to donate a hundred million to my Foundation for Endangered Reptilians.

Aran is the one who helped me set it up last year, so he’s technically my co-founder. So far, we’ve been able to help the organization that looks after the Galapagos Pink Iguana by funding their research and conservation efforts.

“I worry about you. Just… be careful. And try not to get into trouble until I find you.”

Nodding, I slurp the last drops of my drink and hand him the empty glass. The ice clinks inside it as our fingers touch and linger together for a heartbeat. Then he plasters on a fake smile and turns to Mrs. Lynx.

“Would you like a refill, Mrs. Lynx?” he asks, just as her attention returns to us.

Her eyes study him first before moving onto me. They’re even bluer under the generous light from the chandeliers above us, sparkly too, like she already has a buzz going. I steal a peek at Aran.

Was it his doing?

I swear his upper lip trembles with a hint of a smile that’s meant only for me to catch. Shit, I’m dead. His morally questionable inclinations are sexy as hell.

“No thank you, Mong, dear.” She steps toward me and offers me her arm, which I take. We head into the crowd, but then pause almost immediately as she turns back to Aran and taps the fingers of her free hand against her chin. “Actually, can I get you to bring a tray worth of the drink you made for me to the room at the end of the hallway on the second floor? The one with the golden plate that says ‘Skellig’. Let’s say in about half an hour?”

I don’t dare look at Aran so I don’t grin like an idiot. But this is good, isn’t it? This Skellig room must be where Mrs. Lynx and I are going, and if ‘Mong’ is bringing the drinks, then Aran and I have nothing to worry about, right?

“Of course, Mrs. Lynx. I’ll get started on them right away.”

We’re already walking away before he finishes saying that. After we pass an archway decorated with ivy and roses, she leads me to a less crowded part of the room where a short climb up ornate stairs takes us to a bookshelf with a reading nook attached to it. “Wait here for me. I’ll be five minutes.”

“By the way…” I plop onto the comfy armchair and grab a random book. “About that thing Eleanor and you talked about after the party the other night…”

She leans her hip against the marble railing and looks at me as if I have grown horns. “Which thing, dear?”

So, I guess she won’t make this easy. Fine, I can play this game, too. “A holiday, after the cruise. We got talking at the party and it turned out we both wanted to go to this theme park. Katy is also interested.”

Mrs. Lynx’s gaze is blank for a while, but eventually she smiles. “Of course.” She waves me away. “Eleanor sounded very excited. She’s got a few things to sort out for me, but she can take some time off after that.” For a long minute, she studies my face as if looking for something, but I maintain a friendly smile. “Sorry I didn’t let you know, dear. It must have slipped my mind.”

This confirms that Eleanor didn’t talk to her. “No problem, Mrs. Lynx. I’ll just get her phone number next time I see her, so we don’t waste your time with this. Uh, on that note, could you maybe tell her to meet me during her lunch break at the taco place?”

“Ah. Don’t worry about it. She’s been very busy and might not have time to step out, but, well, I’m always happy to chat with you.” She pats me on the head in that way Aran does, her fingers lingering in my hair and pulling gently.

It takes me everything to suppress my knee-jerk reaction. I don’t know where it came from, or why, but I suddenly want her hands off me and not just because she’s hedging like a pro.

Luckily, the noise from the crowd downstairs seems to remind her that she still has guests to greet, so she lets go of me quickly enough. “I’ll see you shortly. Be a good boy and wait for me here.”

My body shakes violently and I have to hold onto the armrests as the shivers get so bad my head spins. I’m confused at my own reaction, but there was just something about the way she said it and how she was looking at me. Maybe I am overreacting because of what Aran said earlier, or maybe I’ve just reached my limit of being around people.

Either way, I hope that when tonight is over, we’ll have what we came for, or, at the very least, we’ll be very close to obtaining it.

Because, if I am being honest, I’m ready to go home, close this chapter of my life, and make things between me and Aran legally binding.