The Marked Ones (13 page)

Ivyanne turned to face him, trying to squelch the urge to audibly sigh with pleasure. He was wearing board shorts and a tight-fitting white tank top. Very un-Tristan. And incredibly hot.

‘You still look like a snake in the grass.’ She teased.

Tristan’s eyes danced with merriment. ‘And you still look like a snake charmer.’ His eyes darted towards the ocean. ‘I swam for two hours just now, to prepare myself for this. So why do I have the sudden urge to get wet again?’

Ivyanne didn’t know. But she was right there with him. No, Tristan wasn’t husband material. And yet somehow, when he smiled at her, reason and logic went out the window. The bottom line was that, like Ardhi had said, marriage for her was a means to an end with
one clear objective- successful procreation. Love, longevity and compatibility were never guaranteed with any marriage-arranged or not, within the human world or the mer world. It was a gamble people took in the name of happiness.

But as far as the objective went-Ivyanne was fairly certain that procreation would come as naturally to Tristan and herself as swimming.

If only she could stop glancing over her shoulder every five seconds, checking for Lincoln’s arrival. Ivyanne swallowed, lifted her beer to her lips, and took a long drink. She needed fortification.

⁓

Tristan almost laughed when he saw the princess take a swig from her beer. He wanted one himself, but he’d been on the planet a lot longer than she had, and knew better. He took the cup from her hand.

‘Hey!’ Ivyanne was the picture of indignation. ‘That’s mine!’

‘I know you’re probably drinking this to calm yourself down.’ Tristan said, holding it out from his body and capturing her with his other arm. ‘And as much as I’ll enjoy how giggly and flirtatious this will make you, alcohol will not take the edge off anything. In fact, drinking this will make you do things you’ll have to add to your stress levels tomorrow.’

Ivyanne was both stronger and faster than he, and she’d swiped the cup back and turned her body away from his before he could react. ‘Then let me worry about that tomorrow,’ she said haughtily. ‘Tonight, I just want to numb my senses a little.’

‘Ivyanne-’

Ivyanne’s green eyes flashed, as she regarded him over her shoulder. ‘I’ve been sheltered for twenty eight years, Loveridge. I won’t be choosing a husband who feels the need to
keep it going.’

That
shut Tristan up. And his immediate surrender surprised him. Ivyanne had gotten under his skin, all right. Their afternoon together had been heavenly, despite her orders that he keep his hands to himself. And he couldn’t believe how smoking hot she looked that night. Everything in Tristan ached for her, from his arms to his heart to his groin, which had never been so aroused without being sated for such a long period of time before. She drove him out of his mind.

‘Fine.’ He conceded. ‘I guess no one gets to know themselves, until they’ve met their own drunken reflection.’ He shook a finger at her. ‘But if you throw yourself at me, you better be prepared for the consequences.’

‘If I wake up in your bed, your consequence will be a damn whipping.’ She shot back.

‘Hey, I’m a gentleman, not a rapist.’ Tristan leaned in and gently pulled her to him, resting one hand on the inverted curve of her waist. ‘But, if you feel the desire to whip anyone, I have some accessories that could accommodate
whatever dirty little scenario you may have in mind. Do you have a leather skirt, by any chance?’

Ivyanne slapped him playfully. The firelight was illuminating her now the way the sunset had, and it seemed like the glow was coming from within her instead of reflecting off her flawless tawny skin. ‘What happened to “No romantic pressure”?’

He feigned surprise. ‘What part of that sounded romantic to you?’

Ivyanne rolled her eyes and looked away, but she didn’t open the space between them or shrug off his hand. He could feel her body heat, and her self-consciousness at being so close to him but unwilling to move communicated her desire to flirt some more. ‘You’re so...
forward.’

‘Would you prefer me to play it more chastely-in a way befitting a princess?’ He asked quietly, making a point of staring at her as she pretended to be absorbed by the turning of the tide, slowly sliding his hand down her hip, until his fingers were brushing against hers. Keeping his voice low, he added: ‘I can be romantic. I could bring roses. I could take you out for high tea. I could send you letters, telling you how much you’ve captured my interest.’ The tension between them was intense, and when he opened his fingers to slide between hers, she didn’t flinch. Knowing that she was silently giving him permission to hold her hand, he closed his hand around her tiny one, rubbing the sensitive part of her palm with his thumb in slow circles. ‘Would you prefer
that?’

‘Been there, done that.’ She whispered softly, still averting her eyes. ‘Roan was big on the love letters. It was….’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Boring. And awkward. It felt like we were trying to create a romance where nothing existed.’

Tristan smiled knowingly. ‘I don’t like boring or awkward either.’ He said. ‘I’d much rather be honest and tell you that you make me so hard, that if you marry me, you won’t be able to leave my bed for a solid decade afterwards.’

Ivyanne inhaled sharply, and whipped around to face him. ‘Tristan!’ She hissed. ‘That’s-’

‘Honest.’ Tristan pulled her to him with his other arm, so she could feel his erection against her thighs. Her pupils dilated, and lips parted-signs of arousal. ‘But I won’t push you, Ivyanne. Some things are worth waiting for.’ He released her, but maintained his grip on her hand, keeping her close enough that he could feel her body heat. He realized that he was holding his breath, terrified that the slightest movement would break the spell. ‘So is this okay for now?’

Ivyanne’s gaze darted back to the ocean, but she nodded her head almost imperceptibly. A charge went through Tristan, partly due to feeling like a small battle had been won, but mostly because he’d never held a girls’ hand before and wanted it to
mean something to her the way it did to him.

And then she sighed softly and leaned into him, resting her cheek against his chest and staring out at the blackened sea. ‘God I love the water...’ she whispered. ‘Doesn’t it just make your heart race?’

Oh my god. Tristan swallowed back the vulnerability which was expanding him from the inside out as her scent invaded his senses and her warm breath buffeted off his bicep. She’s letting me hold her!

All at once Tristan knew that if she were to suddenly step away, he would feel bereft. It had nothing to do with wanting to be king, or pleasing the current Queen, or even locking this sensational looking girl in his bedroom for the rest of his lives. The ocean wasn’t calling to him-the woman nestled against his chest was.

‘Nothing in my life could make my heart race more than at this exact moment.’ He whispered, stroking her hair tentatively. And it wasn’t a line-but the truth. He was falling for Ivyanne Court and that knowledge was terrifying.

13.

‘There’s the boss man now !’ Curtis suddenly shouted, busting the heady moment Ivyanne and Tristan had been isolated within like a finger popping a bubble.

Ivyanne’s heart skipped a beat. She crossed her arms over her chest as casually as she could and inched away from Tristan, allowing herself a quick glimpse, to confirm Lincoln’s stature against the now milky white, moonlit sand, before turning back to Tristan, who was frowning slightly. She knew the act of breaking their contact hadn’t been lost on him and she kicked herself for being so obvious. She’d ruined a lovely moment, and for what? Fear of it being witnessed by someone she still fantasized about sharing such a moment with?

‘Looks like we can finally dig into that pig,’ she made herself say to him. ‘Are you hungry?’ She glanced over and waved at Pintang, who must have shown up while Ivyanne’s back was turned. Pintang raised an eyebrow to see her standing so closely to Tristan, but then waved back, frowning slightly.

Oh god I already feel guilty about your brother. Please Pintang, don’t make it worse!
Ivyanne thought, her mood sinking.

Tristan leaned down to whisper in her ear: ‘You know it’s not
pig I’m craving, princess.’

‘Cool your jets,’ she teased, hoping he couldn’t sense how close she was to hyper-ventilating. His sexually charged words had thrilled her, but she couldn’t bear for him to know how much. ‘It’s the only
pork you can hope for in the near future.’

Grinning, and grateful that she’d made the moment playful instead of tense, Ivyanne did an about-face and joined the others, who were gathering around the rotisserie, eager to first greet Lincoln, then tease him for being late, then sink their teeth into the pig. But as Ivyanne approached the others, she was surprised to see everyone gathered around Lincoln, only inches from his face.

‘Oh my god!’ said Remi. ‘Look at you!’

‘I didn’t know they did plastic surgery here!’ Chimed in Curtis.

‘Holy shit!’ Adele exclaimed. Her hands went to her cheeks.

‘Woot woot,’ Marcus teased. ‘
There’s the kid I hired ten years ago!’

Ivyanne instantly realized what they were talking about-Lincoln’s makeover. The one she had orchestrated and forgotten about. She got up on her tiptoes, trying to catch a glimpse, already glowing with pride at whatever small mercy Aubrielle had granted him.

But when the crowd parted, and his face was revealed to her, Ivyanne had to choke back a gasp of her own. So radical was the change, that the breath escaped her lungs. Knowing she should have some reaction, she managed an: ‘Oh wow,’ before retreating into herself in a stupor of epic proportions.

‘Guys...you’re embarrassing me.’ Lincoln said, his face darkening scarlet.

Lincoln looked incredible. Tall and strong, as a result of his own hard work, but softened in face by Aubrielle’s magic touch. Whatever treatment she had given him must have served to leech all of the water weight and toxins from his flesh, because the man standing there was almost as fit as boy she had fallen in love with in the nineties.

Of course, that had been a gradual result which everyone had noticed. The real shock was Lincoln’s skin, which was glowing as though the sun had blessed it, not penetrated it. He didn’t look eighteen, and never would again. But Aubrielle had shaved at least six years off his appearance. He looked like a man in his prime, not one who had stopped looking after himself a decade ago.

‘Huh,’ Tristan said casually. ‘So he is a little pretty, after all.’

‘I guess so,’ Ivyanne said, as though she was just as taken by surprise as he was. ‘Who would have thought it, hey?’
Ivyanne certainly hadn’t anticipated such a drastic overhaul. Her first thought was to give herself a high five for a job well-done. Her second was to fret that Aubrielle had gone too far. Her third, unfortunately, was an intense desire to throw herself into his arms. It was a horrid, shallow reaction. She had put Aubrielle to the task of restoring Lincoln’s youth as a means to an end-closure for him, less guilt for her. Now the man matched the memories, heating her blood.

Adele pushed through the crowd. The lithe blonde took Lincoln’s hands and pulled him closer to the fire, where the light was better, exclaiming softly and grinning like mad. Her sour attitude had apparently sunk with the sun, and that pissed Ivyanne off.

You were talking about dumping him not ten minutes ago! Ivyanne raged silently at her. And now what? His looks make everything all better? How fickle!

And to add insult to her wounded morals, Lincoln was actually blushing from his girlfriend’s attention, his eyes sparkling. He leaned in and kissed Adele gently, and she responded by curving her body around his, getting a cheer from everyone.

Everyone but Ivyanne. Possession gripped her heart in icy fingers.

‘We’ll wait til the line has gone down,’ Tristan said now, leading her away. ‘I’m not that hungry. Besides, I’m a vegetarian, remember?’

Ivyanne nodded and allowed herself to be pulled down onto a log, but she kept her grip on his hand loose and had to concentrate every bit of energy she had towards not looking back at Lincoln.

Who’s fickle now?
Her sub-conscience taunted as she stared moodily at the gun smoke- red horizon. You wanted him happier and look-he’s happier. You should rejoice-not sulk!

A warm hand brushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear. ‘I know I come off as over-sexed Ivyanne, but I feel like I need to tell you that I really have enjoyed getting to know you. You’re
nothing like I expected you to be.’

His words brought her focus back to him. She turned to smile at him, moved by his honesty. The truth was, that she agreed. She was nothing like
she’d expected herself to be. At that very moment, a part of her she still wasn’t well acquainted with was allowing her to lose herself in Tristan’s eyes. She looked down at their sandy, intertwined fingers, then up at his full mouth, suddenly wishing he’d just kiss Lincoln out of her head.

‘What are you thinking about?’ He asked. ‘You’ve gone really quiet.’

‘Honestly?’ Ivyanne smiled wryly. ‘I’m trying to work out how much of what I feel for you is withdrawals, and how much is, well, you.’

Tristan smiled. ‘That’s easy. Has anyone
else gotten you hot under the collar? Besides me?’

The question caught her off-guard. Ivyanne dropped her eyes and bit her lip, feeling like he could see right through her. ‘Not to the same extent.’ She admitted quietly. ‘But yes, I’ve had impure thoughts when you’re not around.’

To her relief, Tristan didn’t blink. ‘Totally natural hon. It’ll be a bit of both. But let me know if you start thinking about Ardhi more than me, so I know to step up my game, okay?’

Ivyanne laughed. ‘That’s funny. Before you showed up, I was thinking that he’s probably suffered long enough, and that I should cut the poor guy a break.’

‘So you want to date him now?’

Ivyanne squirmed. ‘
No...but I think I ought to try.’ She turned and smiled at him, eager to change the topic. ‘You’re different too.’ Ivyanne finally admitted. ‘I like you Tristan.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Like me, or
like me?’ A foolish grin punctuated this and he rubbed at his forehead with a bemused expression. ‘God, I sound like a school girl.’

‘Well you don’t
look like one.’ Ivyanne teased but didn’t elaborate, hoping that her flirtatious response had communicated her vague feeling towards him adequately enough. She got to her feet and stepped over the log. ‘Anyway this drink is gross. I’m going to get something else.’

‘Okay. I’m going to go say hi to Remi-I haven’t seen her since I got here.’ Tristan looked reluctant to leave, but there was a pleased smile on his face all the same. ‘Could you grab me a bottle of water when you get whatever you’re having?’

‘Sure.’

The voice behind her was low and strong. ‘Actually I brought a drink over for you, Ivyanne,’ Lincoln said softly. ‘I think I owe you one. Or twenty.’

Ivyanne froze, knowing that looking into his eyes was the worst thing she could do at that moment. But unable to resist, she slowly began to turn.

⁓

Please react like Adele. Please lose it. Please please PLEASE. Lincoln thought as he awaited Ivyanne’s verdict on his makeover with baited breath.

But her reaction was better than he’d hoped, better than even his own when he’d caught sight of himself in his bathroom mirror before coming down. Her wide eyes blinked then glanced down the length of him, then back up again, slowly, as though taking in every detail. When her eyes met his once more, he saw her visibly swallow.

‘So,’ he wet his lips nervously. ‘I took your suggestion and went to see Aubrielle. What do you think?’

‘You look...’ she appeared to flounder for a moment. Lincoln didn’t need a mirror to assess his transformation-it was written all over Ivyanne’s face. Eventually, she met his gaze dead on and smiled sheepishly. ‘Like the kind of lifeguard who made good girls break rules.’

The laugh burst out of Lincoln. He couldn’t imagine a higher compliment. She was so flustered in his presence that he didn’t doubt her sincerity. He wanted to pick her up and swing her around with excitement and cover her face with kisses. He felt like he’d been a can of stale fuel, and she had come along as the spark to ignite it. And after the information he’d gleaned from Adele that afternoon about her past, he needed all of the assurance he could get.

But he held back, wanting to preserve some dignity. Not only did he need to avoid annoying Adele, but it was nice to have the upper hand on both women, if only for a second.

‘Really?’ He asked.

Ivyanne smiled shyly back at him. ‘Knee-knockingly good.’ She paused then added: ‘Ivanna would be impressed.’

The mention of her sister took a bit of the shine out of the moment, reminding Lincoln, for the millionth time, why he shouldn’t be invested in Ivyanne’s opinion at all.

‘Well, thanks-and here,’ Lincoln held out the Margarita someone had handed him. ‘This one’s on me. A thank you, for a good tip.’

Lincoln felt eyes on him. He glanced to his right and saw the Loveridge guy watching them with a slight frown on his face from across the fire, where he was conversing with Pintang Kayu-Api. Lincoln bristled as even more of his good mood was sucked away. Sleep with my girlfriend then eyeball me for talking to someone you haven’t even landed yet? Lincoln thought angrily. This is my resort buddy. If you don’t want me around, then you leave.

Ivyanne took the glass hesitantly, smiling up at him, oblivious to their audience. ‘Will I still be glad I took this tomorrow?’

The flare in Lincoln’s temper was fanned by the frank interest in Ivyanne’s eyes, making him bold. He focused back on Ivyanne-he’d deal with Tristan later. ‘As far as I’m concerned, all bets are off for whatever tomorrow will bring.’

Ivyanne raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh?’

Lincoln nodded. ‘I plan on being completely unpredictable from hereon-No one is safe around me,’ Lincoln leaned down and lowered his tone, not letting his eyes budge from hers. She had obviously gone to great lengths to look good enough to eat, and it was making him feel downright predatory. He had no control over his next words: ‘Not even you, Miss Court. You may have created a monster.’

Ivyanne’s mouth fell open. ‘W-what does
that mean?’

But Lincoln didn’t respond. With a wink and a smile, he forced himself to turn away before she could either shoot him down, or say anything to make him lose his tightly reined control. He could feel Ivyanne’s beautiful green eyes boring holes into his back as he left her. He would have given every cent of his fortune at that moment to know what she was thinking. Oh well, time would show it clear enough.

⁓

‘...Yeah I really need to go stay with them for awhile again soon. Mum is a great provider-but she’s really not much of a cook. That’s my thing. Daddy says he’ll kill himself if he doesn’t get some of my lasagne soon. Usually when I have time, I’ll make like, nine for him that he can freeze. But it’s harder, now that I have a smaller kitchen….’

Tristan was only half listening to Pintang. He was watching Ivyanne’s boss with abject fascination as he made a play for what Tristan was rapidly starting to think of as : ‘His.’

Of course, the first time Tristan had seen them interact, he’d worked out that the boss had a thing for Ivyanne. What red-blooded guy wouldn’t? And he’d even noticed Ivyanne sparking back. He’d written it off as an act, as mermaids were prone to acting seductively to get their way, but watching her gaze adoringly up into her boss’s face and then inhale the entire contents of her cocktail glass the second he walked away had Tristan’s heart sinking.

‘...A man’s heart through to his stomach, isn’t it? Maybe I should cook for you sometime. I have a few vegetarian ideas.’ Pintang paused. ‘You are a vegetarian, aren’t you?’

Tristan turned to Pintang, and blinked. ‘Huh? Vegetarian? Oh...yeah.’

Pintang stared at him for a moment, then frowned. ‘Tristan, am I boring you?’

Tristan felt awful. ‘No.’ He said firmly, turning his body to hers. ‘It’s just that Ivyanne’s drinking. And I don’t want her to get too carried away.’

As if on cue, Ivyanne tripped over the log.