Special Rewards (The Coursodon Dimension Book 2)

by M. L. Ryan

  Alex’s back was turned and he was fidgeting with the cuffs of his untucked dress shirt when I made my fully-dressed entrance from the bath into the bedroom. He must have heard me, because he pivoted around and gave me one of his patented-Alex smiles.

  “You look beautiful.”

  I planned to swirl around and give him the 360-view, but now that he was facing me, I could see that his shirt was unbuttoned. He looked unbelievably yummy; the well-defined muscles of his chest peeked out from the gap in the starched, white cotton chemise. My gaze lingered on his pecs and then slowly moved down over his rippled abs. He had not yet fastened either the top of his trousers or his belt, and I suddenly could think of nothing else but what was south of the boarder. Damn.

  I mentally calculated how much extra time I would need to re-get ready if I stripped off my clothes and played out all the delicious erotic notions Alex incited. I quickly realized what I pictured would take up most of the evening. Resigned to having to put my libido on hold, I let out a frustrated sigh. “You know, Blondie, if I wasn’t worried about messing up my hair, I would totally jump you right now.”

  Alex sidled up to me and placed his hands around my waist. “Women always think a guy is hot when he’s in a tux,” he drawled, adding a suggestive leer.

  I leaned in and lifted my head. “It wasn’t you in the tux that I was thinking about.”

  Laughing, Alex backed up and continued dressing. “Just think how much fun it will be later. All I will think about this evening is getting you back up here and peeling off those flimsy excuses for undergarments.”

  “Hey, not fair. Now all I am going to be thinking about is you peeling off my undies.”

  He sauntered by and gave me a careful kiss on the top of my head. “That was the idea,” he said, voice full of heated promise.

  I scrunched up my face in feigned annoyance. “Fine.” But to be on the safe side, I’m going in the living room to wait for you. And hurry up, because I can’t sit. I don’t want to wrinkle the dress.”

  To his credit, Alex finished in record time. He didn’t look quite as fine once he was fully clothed, but he still managed to take my breath away. Frankly, I wasn’t sure if I should be ecstatic or embarrassed that I was so taken with his hunkishness.

  “Shall we?” he inquired, offering his arm.

  I took hold of his bicep. “Let’s go, Prince Charming. Take me to the ball.”

  It wasn’t really a ball — there were only about 30 guests and there was no dancing — but it was as close as I was ever likely to get to one. Most of the parties I went to consisted of BYO whatever plus host/hostess provided munchies. On the rare occasion an actual meal was served, it was never a sit-down, best-dishes kind of thing. Pizza, burgers from the barbeque maybe. Here, there were white-gloved waiters meandering through the crowd carrying trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres. This shindig was so formal, I wanted to affect a snooty, upper-crust British accent just to make myself feel like I fit in.

  Many of the guests spoke no English, so I spent a lot of the cocktail hour either waiting for Alex to translate or smiling and nodding as if I understood what the hell someone was saying. Often, both at the same time. But, aside from the language barrier, I was having a surprisingly good time, especially after Tannis did something magical to make my strappy sandal-enclosed feet from aching.

  About an hour after we arrived, Alex’s brother, the Crown Prince Kynkyzalyxch, made his entrance. He breezed in with a beautiful redheaded woman and an entourage in tow – three guys whose sole purpose appeared to be catering to his every whim and/or fawning over each utterance. Kynkyzalyxch embraced his parents warmly, giving both Wyxinorolyxazam and Rexanatyxa a hug followed by a kiss on each cheek. The redhead did the same, and then the King motioned for us to come over.

  Kynkyzalyxch was a handsome man; built like his father – tall and sturdy – but with Rexanatyxa’s round face and bright green eyes. When he saw us, he grasped Alex’s hand. It wasn’t the chummiest greeting I’d ever seen, but it seemed cordial nonetheless. A lot like how I act when I see my sister Nina. I love her, but if she wasn’t related, we probably wouldn’t be friends. We just don’t really have much in common, with the exception of having the same parents. Alex ended the handshake, and gave Red a small peck on the cheek.

  Stepping back, Alex guided me closer with his hand on the small of my back. “Hailey, this is my older brother, Kynkyzalyxch and his wife, Tjryxina.”

  Kynkyzalyxch arched his brow as he surveyed me. “So, this is the famous Hailey. You know,” he said winking, “I believe you are the first woman he has brought home to meet the family in a long time.”

  The Bootlicker Trio, hovering behind the Crown Prince, roared with sycophantic laughter. Everyone else around us seemed to find his comment somewhat insensitive, if their awkward silence was any indication. Me, I wasn’t entirely sure how to take it. It could have been meant as a compliment, but there was something in his tone of voice that made me think otherwise. Maybe I was discomforted by the over-the-top response by his posse. Maybe it was the wink. Whatever was making me edgy, I didn’t need the extra “relationship” pressure heaped on top of the stress of meeting his family. And me being me, rather than letting it go, I decided an equally ambiguous response was in order.

  I smiled brightly and winked back. “Well, technically he didn’t have a choice,” I quipped. “The Queen made us an offer we couldn’t refuse.”

  This time, everyone but the boot-lickers chuckled; even Rexanatyxa seemed vaguely amused. Kynkyzalyxch’s hangers-on seemed uncertain how to react to my humor and glanced furtively at one another as if they just couldn’t fathom how anyone could respond to the Crown Prince with anything other than obsequious adulation. Once they realized that Kynkyzalyxch wasn’t bothered, they relaxed and resumed peering adoringly at their hero.

  When Kynkyzalyxch had moved on to greet others, Tannis came up behind me. “Nice one,” she congratulated as she watched her brother work the room. “He needs people to challenge him every occasionally. Those morons that are always hanging around him never disagree with anything he says or does.”

  “I noticed they were kind of…fawning.”

  “Fawning?” she said as her forehead creased. “If they had their heads any further up Kynkyzalyxch’s ass he’d never be able to sit down.”

  Alex brought his hand up to cover his smirk. He tried to chastise her with a less than convincing, “That’s not nice,” but I knew he agreed with the evaluation.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” I began, “Kynkyzalyxch seems like an okay guy, but the two of you are so different than he is. What’s with that?”

  Tannis shrugged. “I suppose it’s harder for him, being the heir to the throne. He’s scrutinized more in one day than Alex and I are in a year. And people are always sucking up to him.”

  “We are much better adjusted because we only get occasional sucking up,” Alex added playfully. “Seriously, though, I spent a good deal of time away from the palace during my formative years. And Sebastian isn’t the type to put up with any notions of entitlement. I remember once when I first went to stay with him, I complained because there were no servants and I was expected to clean up after myself. Sebastian made me clean not only my messes but his as well for a month. And he would follow me around while I was cleaning and micro-manage everything I did.”

  “What a rude awakening for the poor prince,” I teased, patting Alex on the back with mock sympathy.

  “It was, but it was a worthwhile one. Among all the other things he taught me, I learned how to be a better person.”

  I hadn’t ever stopped to consider that Sebastian might have played a significant role in Alex being who he turned out to be. Or that it was possible that Sebastian could, for all intents and purposes, help to raise a child and do so without completely fucking him up.

  The concept of Sebastian as a positive role model was difficult to wrap my head around. Sort of like if someone had told me that, contrary to
all notions of rational thought, marshmallow fluff was actually good for you. My ruminations were interrupted however, when Lyjwix came by to say hello.

  I was surprised to see him there. Perhaps it was customary at this kind of thing for the head of the Department of Trans-Dimensional Affairs to attend, but I was under the impression that no one was invited unless they were in the royal inner circle. There was no indication at the courthouse that Lyjwix fell into that category. On the other hand, Alex may have neglected to mention any close association with his family while he was busy leaving metaphorical scent posts to indicate I was his.

  Lyjwix was the quintessential metrosexual; impeccably dressed and every hair in place. On his head, that is, because I’d bet money that the rest of his body was smooth and heavily manscaped. But, best of all, he seemed to be over his prior excessive fascination with me. No staring, only a cordial smile.

  “Good evening,” he said, lifting his champagne in recognition to Alex, Tannis and me. “A lovely party, yes?”

  Alex’s shoulders tensed, and no one responded right away. But Tannis, ever the etiquetteinista, covered for him by responding, “It is quite nice,” and clinking her glass against Lyjwix’s.

  “I trust that now that the trial is over, you are enjoying your stay, Ms. Parrish?”

  “I am. Azeryx is beautiful and I’m happy I got the chance to see more of Alenquai while I’m here.” I was going to request that he drop the formal “Ms. Parrish” crap and call me Hailey, but I didn’t want to do anything that might in any way be construed as flirting, given Alex’s obvious issues with Lyjwix. He didn’t seem to be coming on to me, but as long as Alex found his attention suspicious, I wasn’t going to add any fuel to the fire.

  “Your pronunciation is impressive. Courso is not easy; you must have a gift for languages.”

  What was up with this guy? I said two Courso words, short ones at that, which was hardly a display of linguistic prowess. I studied Lyjwix more carefully. There was nothing disingenuous in his expression or demeanor; he seemed sincere. But, there was no reason that I could see for trying to butter me up, and he had to know he was pissing off Alex. He was a bureaucrat, perhaps his position required him to be both clueless and adept at guileless bullshitting. Before I could respond, however, Alex picked up the conversation.

  “She does have a way with foreign tongues,” Alex boasted, adding a suggestive curve of his lips. The insinuation wasn’t subtle, and Tannis and I shared exasperated looks at the ridiculousness of the display. If Lyjwix caught Alex’s drift, he didn’t let on. He did, however, change the subject.

  “You also have a gift for form-bending, I hear,” he said, peering over the edge of his glass as he sipped his drink. “You are full of surprises, Ms. Parrish.”

  Alex glared at Lyjwix. “How did you know about that?”

  “There were many witnesses, and word spreads quickly.” Seeing Alex’s concerned expression, Lyjwix whispered, “Everyone knows she is Yterixa, but they think she is half-Courso. How she came to her magic is still a secret to most, I assure you.”

  “That’s a relief,” Alex declared. “After what happened with Otto, it is best if as few people as possible know that Spiritual Reconvergence is achievable.”

  Lyjwix nodded in agreement. “Whilst there may have been positive aspects of Sebastian’s experiment, the possibility of abuse is too great. Leave it to the criminal element to take something so life-affirming and corrupt it into a way to make money.”

  The reminder of Otto Kashanian’s vile plan made me slightly nauseous. He thought charging exorbitant prices to transfer the essence of old or ailing Courso into young, healthy bodies so they might live forever was a great business opportunity. The fact that the people whose bodies the rich folk would inhabit had to die in the process was just a minor drawback as far as Otto was concerned.

  At least the somber subject seemed to diffuse the tension. They didn’t appear chummy, but at least Alex’s body language suggested he was no longer contemplating beating the crap out of Lyjwix just because he had the audacity to speak to me. In fact, after a few minutes of blissfully light, meaningless party talk, Alex was comfortable enough to break away to hunt down more bubbly. Of course, Tannis was there to chaperone in case Lyjwix felt obliged to use Alex’s absence as an invitation to steal me away.

  “You know, many in my family were Yterixa,” Lyjwix remarked as Alex disappeared into the crowd. “My grandfather changed into a something akin to your ocelots. He was magnificent.” He looked away, as if reminiscing. Returning from his reverie, he studied me carefully. “You have been given a rare gift, you know.” A sly expression came across his face. “I’ll wager Sebastian is green with envy. He has always been quite vocal about longing to form-bend.”

  “Surprisingly,” I joked, “He’s taking it well. I think any jealousy he might feel has been tempered by the fact that the process is being fueled by his magic.”

  Lyjwix nodded. “My position as head of trans-dimensional affairs requires a close association with the Xyzok, so I have known Sebastian for a long time. He can be…difficult, but when it counts, he always comes through.” He glanced across the room and added, “I see Alexander is returning. Before he gets back, please don’t let his attitude towards me color your opinion. Many years ago, we dated the same woman. When we became exclusive, Alexander believed that I had stolen her away. In truth, I was unaware that she was involved with him. I regret any pain the situation may have caused and have tried on many occasions to apologize. Unfortunately, Alexander must still hold a grudge.” He leaned in closer and whispered, “I assure you, while you are lovely, my interest in you is not romantic.”

  I stole a glance at Tannis, trying to ascertain if his story was true. Apparently, she had no knowledge of the love triangle, because she just shrugged. By then, Alex arrived carrying a bottle of bubbly.

  “I couldn’t locate three glasses, but I did procure this,” he explained, topping off our crystal flutes. He set the bottle on a small, nearby table and added, “This way, we will have ready refills.”

  Not to mention making it easier to keep an eye on Lyjwix. I decided not to belabor the point — it was a party after all — and to do my best to tune out whatever animosity Alex directed toward the Head of Trans-Dimensional Affairs. Even if Lyjwix’s account was accurate, and he really didn’t realize he was horning in on Alex’s turf, I could understand how Alex might have trouble sorting out who knew what and when they knew it. Plus, it was probably easier for Alex to cling to the notion that the chick was led astray by a man on the make rather than having to admit he was being two-timed. I was somewhat concerned that the current lull in tension would prove to be temporary, particularly since the evening was still young. My fears were allayed when dinner was served at one ginormous table and Alex and I were seated far away from Lyjwix. Just another unexpected benefit of being in a palace.

  The meal consisted of many, many courses, most of which were delicious. There was one item, presented between the soup and the main course, that resembled biscuits and country gravy, except the biscuit was sweet and the gravy had chunks of some oily fish. Truly repulsive in my humble opinion, but no one asked me and besides, everyone else seemed to like it. Whatever it was, it must be like Spam sushi or Rocky Mountain oysters — you had to grow up eating it.

  The rest of the night was Lyjwix-free, and by the time the party wound down, Alex was back to his normal, relaxed self. As we made our way back to the suite, I deliberated broaching the subject of Alex’s obvious enmity toward the Head of Trans-Dimensional Affairs. On the being-mature-and asking-him side of my internal debate, I could assure Alex that, regardless of what happened in the past, there was no reason to worry about me being wooed away. However, there was definitely something to be said for not saying anything. I wouldn’t be thrilled if the tables were turned and Alex knew details about one of my failed relationships before I chose to tell him about it. Plus, if Alex’s grudge really had nothing to do with me, I’d feel l
ike a complete idiot for bringing it up.

  Of course, there was always the alternative to talking. When we reached our rooms, I excused myself and headed to the bathroom. I carefully hung up the beautiful gown, brushed my teeth and washed my face. Alex was just slipping into bed as I flung open the bathroom door. In what I hoped counted as an alluring pose, I leaned against the doorframe wearing nothing but the slinky bra and thong and the red stilettos.

  Shaking my head, I let my hair cascade about my shoulders. “You said something earlier about peeling off this lingerie?” I purred.

  A devilish grin spread across Alex’s lips. Apparently, I had aroused his interest. Crooking his finger, he beckoned me to the bed and threw aside the covers. He was wearing his usual sleeping attire – nothing – and I could now see that it wasn’t just his interest that was aroused.

  “Nice shoes,” he mentioned casually as I strutted toward the bed. Well, strutted was a bit of an exaggeration but, somehow, I managed to cross the distance with a modicum of panache. Well, at least I didn’t trip.

  I climbed on top of him and straddled his muscular thighs. I planned to say something provocative, but my mouth was preoccupied as Alex chose that moment to show me that I wasn’t the only one talented with foreign tongues.

  ~22~

  The next couple of days were filled with doing not much while being surrounded by people whose sole purpose was to try and anticipate my every want, need or desire. I don’t know how the super-rich tolerate the lack of alone time. Not that the palace staff was overly intrusive exactly, but if I was reading and looked up, someone appeared to inquire if I needed anything. Really, my momentary lack of attention to the written word had nothing to do with being thirsty, hungry, hot or cold. Once, when my watcher-for-the-day wasn’t in plain sight, I tried to locate the kitchen to get some extra ice for my tea. One of the butlers nearly had a heart attack when he discovered why I was wandering around, glass in hand. When he resumed normal breathing, he escorted me back, then fetched the ice — in a silver bucket — and personally plunked each cube into my tumbler. I didn’t see my original attendant again and I hoped she wasn’t fired because I needed ice when she had to pee or something.