Chapter 16 #2
I went for a joke, not ready to deal with all the feelings his words stirred up. “So what, you'd basically kidnap me and force me to explain Marvel movies to you forever?”
Ricard chuckled, but there was something deeper behind his laugh. “Maybe I would. I could take you back to Avaline, chain you to a bed in the tallest tower, just for me.”
I let myself imagine that too, some fairy-tale castle with stone walls and those arched windows he described. Me in a room filled with books and morning light, waiting for him to return from whatever dukes do during the day.
His tone was light, teasing, yet something in his body shifted against mine, sending a shiver down my spine. I turned towards him again, our faces just inches apart. “Seriously though. Is that what you want? To just... keep me?”
The playfulness faded, replaced by seriousness. “Yes,” he admitted, that single word heavy with meaning. “But not as a possession. As...”
He trailed off, leaning in and closing the distance. His lips brushed against mine in a kiss that was soft, tender, so different from our heated encounters before. This felt like a question, a confession, a dangerous promise.
I melted into him, my hand cupping his cheek, sensing the roughness of stubble beneath my palm. His tongue traced the seam of my lips, and I willingly opened to him, the taste—mint and bourbon—flooding my senses.
For a moment, the world narrowed to just this. Ricard's mouth on mine, his hand at the small of my back, the warmth of his body against me. No clients, no companions, no royal scandals. Just us.
Ricard pulled back, breathing unevenly, eyes dark with desire but tempered by restraint. Instead of pushing, he pressed his forehead against mine, an act of intimacy that felt significant.
We watched the rest of the film in comfortable silence, Ricard’s arm around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder. As the credits rolled, I felt an odd reluctance to break the bubble of normalcy we’d created.
“What did you think?” I asked, stalling.
“I enjoyed it immensely,” Ricard said, his smile genuine. “Though I suspect my enjoyment had as much to do with your company as the film.”
I faced him again, still close. “There are like, twenty more movies in that universe. We’ve barely scratched the surface.”
“Is that an offer to continue my Marvel education?” he asked, eyes crinkling.
“It could be,” I said, remembering the reality we lived in. “But I’m not sure when we’d find the time.”
Ricard’s expression sobered. “No, especially with…” He gestured vaguely to the tablet and the impending family drama looming over him.
“Hey,” I grabbed his hand. “One problem at a time, right? First, you talk to your brother. Then figure out the rest.”
He nodded, fingers intertwining with mine. “You’re right, of course. It’s just... being here with you makes me wish for impossibilities.”
His admission lingered in the air, too honest to dismiss, too dangerous to embrace. I squeezed his hand, unsure of how to respond.
Outside, the sun began to set. I knew I should leave; I’d already stayed longer than wise. But as I turned toward the door, I felt a tug of reluctance to end this moment.
Ricard sighed, glancing at his watch. “It’s getting late. I should let you go. I’m sure you had other plans for your day off besides listening to my troubles.”
“I didn’t. And even if I did, I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.”
The words tumbled out before my brain could catch up and stop them. I hadn't meant to be so honest, but there it was. Ricard's gaze softened as he raised our joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.
“Thank you,” he said. “For everything.”
We rose together, still holding hands as we walked to the door. At the threshold, I turned to face him, aware this might be the last time I saw him like this, relaxed, open, just Ricard instead of His Grace the Duke. “Good luck tomorrow,” I said. “With your brother.”
He nodded, seriousness returning. “I’ll need it.”
“And after?” I asked, unable to stop myself. “Will you come back to The Ranch?”
Something flickered in his eyes, hope mixed with uncertainty. “I want to. But duty has a way of asserting itself, especially in times of crisis.”
I nodded, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in my chest from the idea that he might be gone forever. “Well, if you do come back, I still owe you a Marvel movie marathon.”
Ricard smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Je te tiendrai à ca. When I return.”
Then he leaned forward, capturing my lips in a goodbye kiss, gentle yet filled with a weight that felt like more than just farewell. His hand cupped my cheek, a touch soft as his mouth moved against mine. I leaned into him, memorizing the feel, the taste, the scent of him.
My duke.
When we broke apart, I had to resist the urge to pull him close again, to deepen the kiss into something more, something that might make him stay. Instead, I stepped back, creating space. “Goodbye, Ricard,” I said, voice steadier than I felt.
“Goodbye, Theo,” he replied, gaze holding mine a moment longer before I turned and walked away.
The air felt cooler outside as the sun went down. I walked slowly, in no hurry to get home, my mind buzzing with the afternoon—Ricard’s vulnerability, the comfort of his body against mine, the gentleness of his kiss.
So lost in thought, I almost missed the figure emerging from the shadows of a decorative pergola near the path. A tall, imposing silhouette I recognized immediately.
The Master.
My stomach dropped as he fully stepped into view, expression unreadable in the fading light. “Mr. Bennett,” he said, voice carrying that same authoritative tone that had both intimidated and intrigued me during my interview. “A moment of your time, please.”
Shit. It wasn’t a request. I swallowed hard, nodding. “Of course.”
“Walk with me,” Ibrahim instructed, gesturing toward a side path that led away from the main resort.
I fell into step beside him, my mind racing. Had someone reported seeing me enter Ricard’s villa? Was I about to lose my job? The thought sent a spike of panic through me—not just for my employment, but what it would mean for Casey's care.
We walked in silence for several minutes, following the path through a small grove of trees, before Ibrahim stopped in a clearing, turning to face me. “I understand you spent your afternoon at Villa 6,” he said.
There was no point in denying it. “Yes, sir.”
“With His Grace, the Duke.”
“Yep,” I replied, heart racing.
He regarded me steadily, eyes giving nothing away. “You are aware, I presume, that fraternizing with clients off the clock is against resort policy?”
My heart sank. “I... kinda figured.”
“And yet you chose to go anyway.”
I took a deep breath, deciding honesty was my best recourse. “He asked to see me. He seemed upset. I thought—”
“What you thought is irrelevant, Mr. Bennett,” Ibrahim interrupted, voice calm but with an edge. “The rules exist to protect both our clients and our companions.”
“I hear you,” I said, making myself look him in the eye. “I understand the rules. Won't happen again.”
“Do you?” Ibrahim raised an eyebrow. “Because, from where I stand, it appears you’ve developed an attachment to the Duke that goes beyond professional boundaries. An attachment that could lead to complications for everyone involved.”
Ooof, that stung. I looked away, unable to meet his piercing gaze. “I just… I wanted to be there for him.”
“I see. And yet, you must regard this as a potential distraction. One that could jeopardize your standing here, as well as his.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, unsure what I was apologizing for. “It won’t happen again.”
“No,” Ibrahim agreed. “It won’t. The Duke has requested your services again before his departure, and given the circumstances, we will honor that request. But it will be the last time you are assigned to him.”
The words hit me like a punch. “Got it,” I managed, the thought of never seeing Ricard again twisting my gut.
“This is not a punishment, Theo. It is a protection for both of you.” Ibrahim's voice softened, losing some of its authoritative edge.
“I have seen this scenario play out before. A wealthy client becomes enamored with a companion. The companion develops genuine feelings in return. They imagine possibilities. Whatever connection you feel, whatever connection he feels, it cannot lead anywhere but disappointment.”
I knew he was right. He was spot on about that. Ricard was a duke, part of a royal family bound by duty. I was just a guy, a sex worker here to pay for my brother's medical care. That we could be anything more than client and companion was a fantasy.
But just because I knew that didn’t make accepting it any easier. “I appreciate your concern,” I said, forcing myself to meet Ibrahim’s gaze. “And I understand the rules. It won’t be a problem.”
Ibrahim nodded, gesturing back toward the path. “You're free to go.” Then, as I turned to leave, he added, “The fact that it hurts is proof that it was genuine. That is something to cherish, not regret.”
I turned to leave, relief mixing with a deep sense of loss. I made it a few steps when Ibrahim's voice stopped me.
“Theo.”
I looked back over my shoulder.
“The Duke leaves tomorrow to meet with his brother,” Ibrahim said, tone neutral. “Given the news from his homeland, it’s uncertain whether he will return to The Ranch at all.”
The walk back to the companions' quarters felt like it took forever, my brain spinning with all these emotions. Even the resort itself seemed to mess with me, all those perfect gardens and fancy lighting and people laughing in the distance like everything was totally fine.
I thought about Casey, about the promise I'd made to him. About how I'd come here with such a clear purpose and somehow fucked everything by falling for someone out of my league.
The worst part was, I couldn't even regret it. Whatever happened with Ricard, it had awakened something in me I hadn't known was there, a capacity for connection that went beyond the physical.
In a weird way, loving Ricard (because yeah, that's what this was becoming, wasn't it?) had something in common with how I felt about Casey. Both made me want to put someone else first, to see them for who they really were, to shield them from all the crap life throws at people.
Different kinds of love, obviously, but somehow stemming from the same place inside me.
With a heavy sigh, I pushed open the door to the building. Whatever happened tomorrow, whatever Ricard decided, facing the reality of our situation loomed ahead. He was a client, and I was a companion. That was all we could ever be.
Some things were worth the pain of losing them. I just hadn't expected Ricard to become one of those things.