Page 51 of Born To Be Bad

“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.”

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