Heads or Tails (7 page)

‘Up here of course, next to you and across from Link-they each have a small private balcony. Two rooms on either side of the hall, but the one next to you is still empty-it has twin beds.’ Pintang pointed to the door he’d assumed to be a closet. ‘You share a bathroom with that room, and Lincoln and Garridan share another. The main bathroom with the spa, is downstairs.’

‘And Ivyanne?’

She smiled knowingly. ‘She’s has the entire third floor-well, accept for this one empty room, which I suppose it’s intended to be a nursery eventually. It’s a suite really, with her en-suite and spa.’ Pintang smiled. ‘It’s incredible, and it’s only accessible from the interior stairs. Garridan likes it that way.
No
one will be able to sneak in there.’

Tristan sat next to her. ‘Is that a warning?’ he asked lightly.

She shot him a sad smile. ‘I’m sorry you’re still going through this,’ she said softly. ‘After everything you went through... I think it’s crazy that Ivyanne hasn’t thrown herself at your feet.’

Tristan lay back on the bed. ‘That’s nice of you to say,’ he said softly, trying to deduce her mood from her body language. They hadn’t been alone together since the dinner Ardhi had interrupted two months before. ‘I was wondering how you were taking….all of this.’

Pintang turned to him, her blue eyes large with remorse. ‘I’m sorry for the scene I made that night,’ she said softly. ‘I’ve apologized to Ivyanne too. I was so jealous, I couldn’t see straight-’ she raked her eyes over him.

Tristan watched her face carefully. ‘And now…?’

‘I’ve stopped holding my breath.’ Pintang smiled. ‘The way you love her... I can see it now, and now that I have, I couldn’t bear seeing it diluted if you had to settle for me instead.’

Tristan was caught between wanting to make her feel better, and not wanting to lead her on. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ he said softly.

Pintang shrugged. ‘Sometimes, we don’t have to say anything.’ She stood up. ‘Besides if I can’t have you as my husband, then I at least want you as my king. Regardless of her feelings, I don’t think anyone doubts that you’re the best man for that job Loveridge. And I think Ivyanne knows it more than she’s willing to let on.’

Tristan got up and embraced her. ‘I kind of love you, you know that?’

She grinned at him. ‘I kind of love you too,’ she kissed him on the cheek, then backed away. ‘Good night.’

The door shut behind her with a click of finality.

4.

Ivyanne soaked in her private spa after she’d bade Lincoln good night, and had a good cry while she was at it. Not over the boys, for that one amazing kiss with Lincoln not withstanding, she was actually holding up better than she’d expected-but over her parents.

It was important for Ivyanne to look strong in front of others-she had the kingdom’s support, but it was their faith she needed. So she held herself together by day, and allowed herself half an hour every night to lie in the bath infused with rock salt and frangipani blooms and cry, reflecting on her parent’s lives, and the words they’d spoken to her, and the way the millions of frangipani’s had floated on the water during the memorial, and the splash of offerings the guests had thrown into the sea.

That had been Ivyanne’s fourth memorial, but her first official one as queen. The crown on her head had felt like barbed wire. She would never forget the loss or the loneliness she’d felt that day. The pain was ebbing away, as it was destined to, like a dune being broken down by a tide, but her heart felt hollow, without having a man to hold her this time, to heal her with his body, as Lincoln had assisted her in the aftermath of Tristan’s accident. She’d felt herself begin to drain Lincoln earlier that night, and it had been hard to stop. He had such a light within him, and she craved it.

And he’d smelled like apples, cinnamon, new car and that certain ‘Seaview’ scent she couldn’t associate with anything, but almost needed to draw in a full breath on land. She’d wanted to bury her face in his shirt and inhale him until his light was hers.

Ivyanne sat down at her small dining table after she was toweled and dressed in her pajamas, feeling like a swim, but knowing she couldn’t. Garridan didn’t allow her to swim alone anymore, and he’d already indulged her in a four hour frolic in the bay after lunch, even though she’d begged him to take her out for two hours at sundown. Having the saltwater pool helped-but it was still like eating the sugar-free variety of some treat you were craving.

Ivyanne idly flipped through her notebook for twenty minutes, the one Saraya had given her. Every morning, Saraya took calls, opened letters and read e-mails from their people, and after sorting them, presented them to Ivyanne to scroll through and attempt to deal with. There was no council or board of directors, no government-when her people needed her help, they had a direct line to her. It took anywhere from an hour to two hours to adjudicate daily. Most mers were self-sufficient, but some still needed a hand, especially those in smaller, more isolated villages who were trying to benefit a community, either by needing assistance with clean drinking water, requiring loans to build schools or houses, or simply reporting health issues.

After awhile, Ivyanne stopped reading and stretched her back, yawning. That day, she’d received quite a few calls regarding Ardhi. It was amazing how many of them were keeping an eye out for the Kayu-Api boy who had started a war with the royal family. Ivyanne had put a million dollar bounty on his head, and offered a knight-hood, but it still didn’t seem adequate. Ivyanne was starting her reign with a very dark cloud over her crown, and she wanted it gone.

That thought made her glance at the journal she’d found in Ardhi’s stuff the night after he’d broken her heart and stripped her of her family. She’d noticed him reading it once or twice, and was keen to see what had fascinated him so. But so far, it just seemed like a scant collection of various mer-mythology that held little fact. As much as she wanted to read the whole thing, she sighed and pushed it to the back of the table, vowing to take it to bed with her instead. Business first, intrigue after.

She reached for a leaflet of pages instead, frowning down at them in concentration-it was a sketch of the measures she wanted to take in Seaview Bay, to rid it of the shark nets and drum lines and replace them with an enclosure. She’d already mentioned her desire to install a swimming enclosure for the  tourists-keeping the sharks separate from the humans but free to roam their own grounds, but Lincoln had seemed less than enthused at the amount of work that kind of thing would entail.

However, that had been when they were engaged-he was trying to impress her again now and prove himself a king-why not take advantage of that while she could? Was it being manipulative if she was acting on behalf of the environment, not herself?

And do I really care?
She wondered, a small smile turning her lips up. It was the mermaid way-Environment first, personal life after. She had the means to manipulate, so why not for the love of the ocean? A stolen kiss or two, a batt of the eyelids-and she could have the turtles of Seaview out of danger for decades to come!

Ivyanne’s smile grew wider as she realized what good shape her mother and father had left the kingdom’s affairs in. The battle to assist the environment had made such progress over the past ten years, that Ivyanne knew for sure that it was time to focus the mer attention back on the
mers
. She especially needed to rectify the Marked family problem-far too many Marked children were growing old, alone, and it was a waste. She wanted to put a cap on the age-limit at
fifty
years.

Ivyanne made a note to bring it up with some of the parties concerned for feedback, and underlined it, before closing the book and turning out the lights, not looking at Ardhi’s book, knowing the tiny, old-fashioned handwriting wouldn’t be translated by her blurry gaze now.

She made her way across the room, smiling fondly at the dramatic space. She’d acted like a queen after most of the initial moving in had been done and had taken over the decorating for the two spaces she was going to use the most-the library, and her bedroom-leaving the others to do most of the heavy lifting. A silver wrought iron bed sat against the feature treated wall which was inlaid with mauve wallpaper and metallic leaf-like flecks. The bed itself had a headboard and foot rail curved into delicate wave-like shapes, and the whole thing was draped with luxurious white linens and finished with a mauve and gold bedspread that picked out the colors in the walls. The room was lit by golden candelabras and lamps scattered about, on end tables, fixed to the walls-one giant candelabra standing next to the bay window which opened out to the ocean. There was a balcony there, but Ivyanne had been ordered to stay off it-it wouldn’t do for Ardhi to swim by and spy her, but she liked to leave the doors open so the ocean breezes would blow through the white curtains and fill her space with the scent of the sea.

Her furniture taste was eclectic and the room showcased this, the silver bed was contrasted by two antique golden, upholstered chairs and a tall boy that had been in the family for centuries-furniture her parents had favored. But instead of clashing, it made the space glitter in the soft light.

Saraya kept the vases on all surfaces filled with flowers-they were still delivered daily in respect for her parents-and Ivyanne cherished them. Their fresh scent reminding her that life continued even after a heart had been stopped. The flowers softened the room, keeping it from becoming to cold from all of the steel and iron. It was a pretty, feminine space, and Ivyanne didn’t mind being barricaded so long as she had it to retreat to.

It was a romantic space too-a room built to make love in, the high ceilings and silver parquetry flooring needing the sounds of giggles and whispers to resonate. The moment she crawled into that big, empty bed, she started thinking about how much she missed cuddling Lincoln. And
cuddling
Lincoln made her think of
sleeping
with Lincoln, and sleeping with
Lincoln
brought her round to sleeping with
Tristan
.

She looked over at her clock and smiled. It was ten fifty nine. Her cheeks began to warm up, so she pulled a pillow over her face and squealed into it, knowing that acting on Tristan’s suggestion to think of him as he thought of her, was as dangerous as following a trail of blood through dusky water.

Still, her skin was burning, her nerves tingling. The sheets felt like silk against her bare legs and she moved them, enjoying the sensation, luxuriating it. Then she saw Lincoln’s face in her mind, her lips went numb, remembering the touch of his. She pressed her fingers to her lips and allowed her hand to drift down her chin, along her neck, and then across the rise of her breasts, where both boys had melted her with kisses at some point.

Then the phone rang, and Ivyanne flinched, feeling like she’d been caught. It was on her nightstand and when she rolled to check the caller I.D, blushed when she saw it was Tristan. With a shaking hand, she answered it.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked softly, convinced the entire street could hear her, and was aware of what she was doing.

‘I figured you’d need me to guide you through this….’ his voice was as silken as her sheets. ‘I’m in bed, naked, and thinking about you already...’

Ivyanne’s toes twitched. She could picture him too easily. ‘This is
so
bad,’ she whispered.

‘It’s not,’ he assured her. ‘It’s perfectly legal.’

‘But Lincoln….’

Tristan chuckled. ‘This is a fantasy, my love. There is no Lincoln, and no guilt. It’s just you and me, and I’ve snuck into your bedroom and locked the door behind me….’

Tristan’s voice was low and deep and completely hypnotic. His smooth Californian accent coupled with the remnants of his European upbringing made for a heart-pounding combination. Ivyanne squirmed, her eyes flicking over to the door, making sure it stayed firmly closed.

‘You better not,’ she said softly.

‘Only a fantasy,’ Tristan reminded her. ‘But even in my mind, you’re still my shy, nervous Ivyanne.’ His voice was soft. ‘You turn on your side and pretend to be asleep, but I slip under the covers behind you and hold you tight against me….

Ivyanne groaned and rolled onto her side, realizing that this was going to be a very brief call. His accent was going to make her come apart in mere seconds.

*

‘Good morning!’ Tristan bellowed the next morning, an ear to ear smile stretching his cheeks. He was still giddy from his triumph the night before, too happy to even care that Lincoln and Ivyanne were standing at the fridge together, their skin gleaming in the rosy glow of the sunrise streaming through the window. He’d been humming along to ‘Lips of an angel’ all morning.

‘Morning,’ Lincoln said, looking more alert than Tristan had expected a bartender to appear at six a.m. His hair was wet too-had he swum already?

Ivyanne glanced over at Tristan, her complexion flushed, her eyes sparkling, albeit incredibly self conscious. ‘Hey,’ she said softly.

Tristan approached her with a knowing grin. ‘Did you sleep well?’

A sly smile slid across her features. ‘Better than I have been, thank you.’ She turned back to the fridge. ‘There it is Link-orange and passionfruit.’

Tristan came up behind her, unable to stop himself from resting a hand on her shoulder. ‘Mmm... I’m thirsty too.’ He continued singing very softly to the very telling lyrics about a couple having a phone affair.