“We’ll make more, Liv.”
She touched his lips and smiled. “I hope so,” she said wistfully.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WHEN
Anso made up his mind to face a necessity, he didn’t drag his feet.
The process of throwing a giant celebration was set into motion the moment they returned to the palace and were greeted by Harrison. The stiff-necked butler seemed excited about overseeing the menu and invitations, especially when it became clear the king was giving him carte blanche.
“I’ve seen what you can handle,” Anso assured him as he tried halfheartedly to demur. “Use Belikov for the decorations. She knows how to hammer down a theme while looking like she used a feather. Other than that, you only need to call me if you run into trouble. I trust you to make us look good.” Olivia liked that
us
. She sensed it included quite a few people. For that matter, it might have included Harrison.
Anso’s a good boss
, she thought, a trait she admired as much as being a good leader. As a boss, Olivia thought she was a smidgen better than James. As a leader, he had her beat hollow. Though Anso hadn’t been king long, she thought he’d excel at both.
Naturally, a party that was meant to impress required more than food and guests. Media access had to be organized. Entertainment too, both magical and mundane. Different venues were discussed, the winner a historic banquet hall in the old section of the city. Ty had a snakes nest of security to coordinate, including escorts from air to water for foreign guests. That prospect gave Olivia more than one sort of butterfly. Oceana was amazing enough. Who knew what wonders other Pocket territories might provide?
Less thrilling was the super-chic Mrs. Bonn taking charge of her again the next day.
“I swear I’m good for more than looking pretty!” Olivia burst out after the third ridiculously fussy designer pulled his racks in and out of the blue salon.
She didn’t usually lose her temper this way. She thought the cause might be that she’d been separated from ... well, all three of her men for hours. Last night, she and James had slept in a guest room. Sleeping was all they’d done - and not very well, to judge by her crankiness. That aside, she was an independent woman.
She adored James’s company, but she’d never wanted to chain herself to his hip.
She’d better get over this sense of attachment, or going home again would be hell.
“Sorry,” she said to Mrs. Bonn, once she’d swallowed the sudden and disturbing lump in her throat.
“Oh that’s all right,” the older woman said. “Compared to some of my clients, you’ve been a saint. Wereseal males - especially the aristocrats - can be funny about females. They’re a little frightened of us. We seem safer up on pedestals all dressed up.”
“My husband ought to know better,” Olivia grumped.
“Of course he should,” Mrs. Bonn said so caressingly she startled a laugh from Olivia.
“You are good,” she said. “Like butterscotch and crumpets.” Mrs. Bonn smiled, pleased to have her talents appreciated. Then her smile turned conspiratorial. “I have an idea, which might be brilliant. There’s a royal storehouse of gowns former queens have worn. Some of the older fashions were beautifully simple. Even more important, some of those queens were tremendously popular. Depending on what you choose, you could make a statement without saying a word.”
“I might like that,” Olivia said. “Unless the dresses are museum pieces. Then I’d be worried about spilling.”
Mrs. Bonn tipped her head sideways. “You do realize you’re queen, yes? If you spill wine on a priceless gown, no one’s going to say boo.” At Olivia’s look of horror, she laughed softly. “It won’t matter, Your Majesty. Your husband can afford to send a boatload of dresses to the magical dry cleaner.”
Her husband
. The phrase sounded far too normal, considering the woman wasn’t talking about James.
“Now,” said Mrs. Bonn, clearly thinking the matter settled, “let’s make an appointment for your hair.”
“You aren’t going to do it yourself?”
Mrs. Bonn tapped her nose and grinned. “I’m multi-talented, it’s true, but I recently met this three-quarter faerie who can work miracles.”
* * *
Up close, the faerie was lovely enough to make her lightheaded. And he smelled better than chocolate.
Slim as a reed but broad-shouldered, his silky flowing hair was silver. His eyes were a stormy gray, his nose sharp enough to etch glass. His lips were almost as pretty as Ty’s, but it was hard to decide in what way they were less. Overall, his beauty stunned. Notably, he was the first person she’d seen wearing glasses.
The frames were narrow rectangles with glittering scarlet rims. Maybe she imagined it, but the glitters looked like they were swirling.
“They’re spelled,” he said, noting her attention. “I can see how you’ll look in a style before I work it up.”
“Handy,” she said, embarrassed that her voice came out breathy.
This was a hairdresser, probably not highly ranked in his race, but she was quivering like a schoolgirl meeting a movie star.
“My name is Lajos,” he said, holding out a gleaming long-fingered hand.
“Halt!” Nico barked. He and his brother had drawn their weapons and were pointing them at Lajos. “You don’t touch the queen, faerie.”
“It’s all right,” Olivia said, seeing how startled the slender hairdresser was.
“He was just -”
“No,” Nico interrupted. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but this one knows he’s not allowed to touch you without putting on gloves first.”
“He could enchant you,” Mark explained. “Faeries carry mojo in their skin.” Fortunately, Lajos was more amused than offended. “I’m only here to arrange her hair. And in case you didn’t look up my name in the Magical Registry, I’m not a full blood fae.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re harmless,” Nico growled.
Mark holstered what looked like a laser pistol from a scifi movie, then held out two elbow-length white gloves. Lajos took them, pulling them on finger by finger with an archly suggestive smile. By the time he’d finished the reverse striptease, Mark was flushed and sweating and gripping his gun again in both hands. He was breathing more deeply than Olivia thought he should, like he’d run up a flight of stairs. It was rude of her to notice, but the guard also appeared to be sporting a large hard-on.
Olivia wondered why she wasn’t reacting the same way. Lajos did make her heart beat faster, and his glamour certainly dazzled her, but she wasn’t physically attracted to him as she was to Anso and James and Ty.
Perhaps bonding with them gave her immunity?
As if he knew this, the faerie’s smile when he turned to her was merely pleasant. “Forgive me for indulging myself. Now and then I tire of anti-faerie prejudice.”
Olivia hadn’t known there was such a thing. Nico wasn’t feeling guilty about it, to go by his eye roll.
“Will you sit, Your Majesty?” Lajos asked politely, swiveling the chair for her.
Olivia slid into it, feeling like she did when interviewing a job candidate who wasn’t giving her enough to go by. Were Nico and Mark bigots, or did Lajos have a martyr complex? People could have little chips on their shoulders and still be competent employees. Then again, did it matter? Lajos was here to style her hair.
If Mrs. Bonn said he worked miracles, wasn’t that likely to be true?
Lajos fluffed her waves across her shoulders with his elegant white-gloved hands. A tingle crept up her neck at the light caress. “You
are
beautiful,” he murmured. “King Anso is a lucky man to be able to add you to his treasures.” Lajos’s eyes were magnified by his glasses, their storminess seeming to deepen as she looked into them in the mirror. Like a treasure was
exactly
how Anso had treated her today, one he had to shine up before she could earn points for him. She marveled that this fact hadn’t occurred to her until now.
Before she could puzzle out the reason, Lajos began to brush her hair. The steady swoosh of the strokes immediately relaxed her. “You’re fortunate your husband is understanding. Most men would balk at sharing a prize like you.”
“I’m my own woman,” she replied. She meant it to be a statement. Instead, she sounded petulant and unsure.
“Of course you are.” His smooth tenor voice was more comforting than Mrs.
Bonn’s. “I knew that the moment we met. No one could keep you prisoner. Or prevent you from holding to your vows.”
It was a strangely personal thing to say. Olivia glanced at the guards to see if they’d noticed. They were standing straight as ramrods with their backs against the Edwardian tile, their eyes forward and unmoving - giving her privacy, she guessed. If they weren’t alarmed, chances were everything was fine.
“Do you have family back home?” Lajos asked in his deliciously soothing voice. Listening to it made her feel as if she were half asleep.
“A daughter.”
The corners of Lajos’s mouth turned down, and hers automatically echoed them. “How sad. You must miss her terribly. And she must miss her mother.”
“She must,” Olivia agreed ... or tried to.
The sadness inside her must have been waiting for a chance to get out. How could she have thought, even for a moment, that it would be hard to leave this place? She was a horrible mother. And a horrible wife. Almost before she knew it, she was sobbing too hard to speak.
“There, there,” said the beautiful faerie hairdresser, offering her a nice cool hankie to weep into. “Mustn’t ruin your looks with tears. I’m sure you’ll find a solution to all your troubles soon.”
* * *
James’s knowledge that this cloth had lain against Anso’s skin gave him a charge he wasn’t yet easy with.
Pushing that from his mind, he turned sideways in front of the full length mirror in the guest room’s combination closet and dressing room. The jacket part of the tux draped the back of a chair, allowing James to check the fit of the rest.
Being mated to the king and Ty had changed him. He could see as well as feel the difference in his body. His abs were flat as a board beneath the silver eel cummerbund, his biceps maybe an inch bigger. He’d been in good shape for his age before. Now he looked nearly as formidable as Ty and Anso - and maybe the only difference was that they trained harder. Hell, even the sprinkling of gray hair he’d had was gone.
The elation that rose at this told him he was shallower than he’d known. His only regret was wondering how they’d explain the changes to friends and family.
Contact lenses would cover their eyes, and he could pretend he’d dyed his hair, since - apparently - he was vain enough. The rest, though ...
He pulled a twisted face at his reflection. Would people believe they’d taken a extra relaxing spa vacation?
He sighed lengthily, the gust of air making his shoulders hitch up and fall. Part of him, possibly a not-small part, didn’t want to go home. He adored his parents, and he liked Olivia’s pretty well. If they failed to return, it would cause them pain at a time in their lives they should have been enjoying. Some of their friends he’d miss, but Olivia had always been his favorite companion. Though he was proud of the business they’d built together, he’d leave it in a heartbeat for the sort of fun they were having here.
He knew Violet could take over. In truth, he wouldn’t be surprised if, with her at the helm, Forster Media became a world class firm. Their daughter had the vision and smarts for anything.
Which brought him to the one insurmountable obstacle to staying. James loved Violet differently than he loved Olivia, but he loved her as much - in part because he knew how desperately she needed the unconditional love he and Olivia gave her. Violet could be difficult to get close to. She was prickly and passionate and God help the man who thought he could soften her. She’d have issued that Ellice woman a sharp smackdown - with her fists, if need be. She wouldn’t have worried what happened to her for doing it either, not if it helped someone she respected. James liked to think Violet was a true warrior princess.
Smiling wryly, he lifted the tuxedo jacket off the chair and slid his arms into it. Fastening the single button completed the James Bond effect. He assured himself he’d decided. They weren’t staying in Oceana. This was just an adventure, the likes of which he hadn’t imagined existed, physically or otherwise.
James would work his homoerotic interests out of his system, and then they’d go home, hopefully leaving as little damage as possible behind them. If he’d miss Ty for more than the blistering sex - and maybe Anso as well - he’d get over it.
Sometimes in life you couldn’t have everything.
He glanced at the door to the fancy closet, wondering how long Olivia and that hairdresser would be shut up in the bathroom. He wanted to see what she was wearing, the incomparable Mrs. Bonn having been secretive about it. He wanted Olivia to see him too. She never failed to coo over him in a monkey suit. He realized he hadn’t seen her in hours. That was too long. They were in and out of each other’s company all the time most days. On the few occasions that they weren’t, it made him feel off kilter.
He hoped he wouldn’t go through the same discomfort when they parted from Anso and Ty.
Abruptly losing patience, he opened the closet door.
“Liv,” he called. “How much gilding does your lily really need?” He stepped into the bedroom, grinning as he anticipated her scolding him.
After a moment, Olivia and her entourage trailed out from the big bathroom. If his eyes went to the faerie first, that was only because the guy was sparkling.
He also smelled incredible, like flower shop baked in a chocolate bun. His hair was a silvery blond that floated around a heart-stopping narrow face. The glasses he wore added charm, but James’s cock behaved itself. This reassured him. He didn’t need to be attracted to every man he met.