Seducing the Cecaelia Bodyguard (Chapter One Only)

Chapter 1: Dominic

Overenthusiastic whoops and cheers echo off the marble walls of the hotel lobby as a group of women clad in pink and gold phallic merchandise stumble for the elevator.

I scan the space for a sober chaperone. A white-gloved bellhop rolls a suitcase laden cart to a small service elevator off to the side while a large fountain with a stone mermaid at its center spews a stream of water into its teal pool full of assorted coins. But once the elevator doors close and the trickle of water is the only sound remaining, I realize there isn't a chaperone.

Unescorted and drunken in public. Completely vulnerable and under the influence.

I shake my head. That was one difference I'd quickly picked up between humans and cecaelia. Humans didn't think twice about roaming under the influence in public where anything could happen to them. Cecaelia weren't that blind to their own mortality. If a cecaelia were to swim out of the caverns without their wits about them, they could easily get caught in a swarm of jellyfish or stumble into the path of a confused great white. But the biggest threat? Everyone knows it's humans you need to stay away from. Humans, albeit unfathomably idiotic at times, are the apex predator.

I check my watch for the hundredth time and sigh loudly. The receptionist is straining his eyes looking much too intently at his computer, doing his best not to acknowledge me.

My phone pings with an incoming text message from the reason I'm here.

Tabby: Did you sign it yet??

Last night, Tabby and Blythe convinced me to come here for them as a favour. After Blythe's attempt at cooking oysters, both she and Tabby were holed up in their restrooms for the rest of the night and into this morning. That's when they got an email about a cancellation at this beachside resort wedding venue. Naturally they needed to tour and accept the venue in-person today or else it would have gone to the next couple on the waiting list. That's how I ended up sitting on this stiff crème couch for an hour, waiting on the wedding coordinator to get her head out of her ass to come get this thing over with so I can get back to Tabby's side.

Before I left this morning, I'd double-checked the security system and I'm confident they won't be leaving the property — hell, they won't be leaving their golden thrones. But I'll still feel much better when I'm by her side again. A bodyguard's habits die hard.

I respond quickly.

Dominic: No. Still waiting.

Tabby: Okay, keep me posted! And do not decapitate the coordinator for their lack of punctuality. We need them in one piece for the wedding.

Dominic: Mhm.

Fuck this.

I stand, readjusting my pressed black jacket and black dress pants that are creased from the three hour drive here, courtesy of one of Blythe's old drivers, and head for the receptionist who's cowering behind his monitor.

But my progress is interrupted as someone rushes face-first into my side. They ricochet off me like a bumper car hitting a semi-truck.

"I'm so sorry, sir!" a five foot nothing woman sings before twisting back around and stepping up to the counter. She couldn't be more than twenty-five years old, with her round face, headphones hanging around her neck, and a backpack slouched over her shoulder.

The receptionist's shoulders relax slightly as he shoots me a glance around the woman.

"Lovely day today, sir. I sure hope your shift is done soon so you can enjoy it. Now, do you happen to have a restroom I can use?" she asks.