29. Golden Drink
CHAPTER 29
Golden Drink
ALISTAIR
The luxury beachfront villa looks decent enough. Lucky assures me it’s the best on Koh Samui. I usually prefer five-star hotels, but I suppose you can’t beat a private villa on an island like this. All the top celebrities come here, says Lucky. And the chef used to cook for the king. When I asked why he’s no longer employed by royalty, Lucky just laughed in that way he does, white teeth flashing.
Ivy’s walking around with stars in her eyes. She’s wearing a summery dress, and the warm breeze is blowing the soft fabric along every delicious curve of her body. The entourage will stay in their own villas, set just a little back from this one. We’re booked in under the false names that match our passports and the security is excellent, so we can relax here without constantly looking over our shoulders. It feels odd to be here, in a warm humid tropical place with no immediate danger. We’ve left behind the bomb-dropping drones that destroyed the west wing of the manor, the destroyed Granite line, the shock and anxiety about Ariana—who has been safely transferred to the facility— and we’ve temporarily avoided the violent clutches of the Mirror Bratva. This peace of mind will not last long. There is a world of pain waiting for me, but for the next forty-eight hours I’m going to let my guard down, if only a little, and give Ivy the best “honeymoon” I can.
Ivy’s floating around the place in that flowy dress like some kind of island wood nymph, the infinity pool behind her. Everything is clean and spacious and sunny, and the white cotton curtains billow in the warm ocean-scented breeze. It feels surreal—especially given that just hours ago we were facing off with those Russian fucks.
The doorbell rings. I’m closer, so I get it. A beautiful Thai woman in a traditional shift dress and gold-stitched sash presents me with a platter of snacks and a couple of icy cocktails on a silver tray.
“ Sawadee ka, ” I say.
“Sabai sabai,” she tells me. At first, I think it’s a greeting, but then I realize she’s referring to the drinks.
“Ah,” I point at them with my eyebrows raised. “Sabai sabai?”
“Chai. Yes. Thailand’s welcome drink. Golden drink, welcome.”
I take the tray from her. “ Khob kun ka.”
She bows, grins, and leaves, but not before I tuck a few hundred baht into her palm.
I take the tray out to the pool, where Ivy has wasted zero minutes in stripping down to her bikini and is lying in a sun lounger.
“Isn’t this perfect?” she asks.
“It’s about to get even more perfect,” I reply. “We have golden drinks and bizarre-looking snacks.”
“Sounds like something out of a fantasy novel,” she says. “They’re probably poisoned with some kind of fae magic. Soon we’ll be mesmerized, acting out their every desire.”
I sit down and hand her one of the cocktails.
“As I said, even more perfect. Tell me more about fairy porn.”
“Oh, the fae are very mischievous. Some are downright evil.”
“Mmm.” I lean down and move her strap to kiss her sun-warmed shoulder. “Evil fairy sex. I have a semi just thinking about it. Or maybe it’s because you’re looking particularly fetching lying here in the sun.”
“Bit of both, I reckon,” she replies.
“You know you don’t have to wear that bikini, right?”
“It’s a great bikini, though. I never get to wear it.”
“It is a great bikini,” I agree, taking a sip. “And this is a great drink.”
“Mmm,” she agrees. “Spiced rum?”
“Golden drink, apparently. Thailand’s welcome libation. But yes, it tastes like rum.”
“And lime,” she says. “Soda. Basil.”
“Were you a cocktail connoisseur in your previous life?”
“Nah,” she replies, taking off her top. “I was an evil fairy.”
We spend the morning lazing around the pool mostly naked, recovering from the long flight, drinking in the warm weather and perfectly blue sky. Not a cloud in sight, I keep thinking. A rather on-the-nose metaphor for having left our worries behind, if only for a couple of days. We order more drinks, and more food keeps appearing as if by magic. Perhaps it’s those wicked fairies trying to fatten us up before eating us.
“Will we go out for dinner?” I ask Ivy. “Or stay in and have the chef make something?”
She looks up from her book.
“Oh,” she says. “It’s so lovely right here, I want to stay. But I also want to explore.”
“I’ll make an executive decision, then. We’ll stay here tonight and spend the day exploring tomorrow. I’ll make a dinner reservation for sunset.”
“You mean your team will make a reservation.”
“I thought we’d been through this,” I remind her. “I’m a kraken, remember?” I tickle her sides with my tentacles and suck her shoulder. She giggles.
“Do you think Alex is okay?” she asks.
“Brumilde texted me earlier. Alex is fine. She wants to take him to the beach tomorrow.”
“First beach visit!” she grins, light radiating from her. “How about Ariana?”
“Ariana has been successfully installed. She’s still fighting us, but the staff assure me it’s normal. The progress is usually slow at the beginning.”
Ivy downs the last sip of her coconut milk and pineapple drink. “Jesus. It’s really been a lot, hasn’t it?”
“That’s one way of putting it,” I reply.
“This is the perfect place to decompress.”
“Anywhere with you is the perfect place,” I reply. Particularly when she’s naked.
“Especially when I’m naked?” Ivy says.
“You literally just read my mind.”
She guffaws.
“Speaking of skin,” I say. “I don’t want you to burn.” I pick up the sunblock spray from the woven bowl beside the lounger and squirt her back with it. She braces as the cool droplets hit her hot skin, but soon relaxes under my touch as I rub it in. God, I love her skin. It’s always so soft. I want to keep going, so I follow up with her neck, arms, and legs. When I get to her inner thighs, she chuckles. “I don’t think I need sun protection there.”
“One can never be too careful,” I say. “I don’t want your honeymoon ruined because you’ve been reckless with your SPF coverage.”
She grabs the spray and begins working on me as thoroughly as I had worked on her. By the time she reaches my thighs, I have a raging erection.
“You know what we need to invent?” she asks. “It’s the most brilliant business idea.”
“I can honestly say that there is not one thing I need in the world at this moment,” I reply. “If I died right now, my life would be complete.”
Ignoring me, she continues her thought. “Wait for it … lube with SPF.”
It’s my turn to chuckle. “That’s a pretty … niche market.”
“Not when you’re living in a tropical paradise.”
“You’re right.”
“Coconut oil base. Spiced rum flavor. If we had a prototype here, I would try it out on you right now.”
My erection votes an enthusiastic yes. “You’ll make millions. I’ll be your angel investor. Where do I sign?”