We sat around the table. No one made a move. No one said a word. Bonita looked us each in the eye, quickly passing from one to another.
“What are we supposed to do?” asked Ken.
“We’re supposed to fight for the privilege of pleasuring the queen,” said Trevor.
“Exactly.” Bonita raised her brow. “If you accept the challenge, then turn over your card. The brave and loyal subject—”
“And handsome,” interjected Ben.
Bonita cast him a stern glare, and he bowed his head submissively. “The brave and loyal and handsome subject with the highest card shall be the one to...” She nodded discreetly over her shoulder to the cabin behind her.
“To pleasure the queen,” said Will, unbuttoning his shirt.
“You can keep your shirt on,” said Bonita. “The queen does not demand as much to be pleasured.”
I gripped the table since I did not know what else to do with my hands. I wanted to have a peek at my card. I did not know what else to do with my eyes, either. I couldn’t look at the others. I was too drunk to keep my emotions from showing, and my emotions were all jumbled and disordered. I reached for the bottle and poured myself a drink. “Anyone else?” I raised the bottle. No one took me up on my offer.
“A bit of liquid courage,” said Christian.
“Something like that,” I said and put the glass to my lips to keep me from blurting out anything else.
Will was the first to turn over his card: the four of clubs. “Ah, damn.” He tossed it into the center of the table. It landed on the queen of hearts. Bonita moved it off to the side.
Landon went next: the nine of clubs.
The rest of us turned our cards over together and, in unison, tossed them into the center with cries of disappointment. Landon and his nine of clubs had won.
Without a word, Bonita stood from the table, and, in two steps, she slipped into the cabin.
Landon needed no further invitation.
I poured myself another drink. In doing so, I caught Ken staring at me. He knew. He had to. Ken was far too perspective, and I was far too drunk to hide the hurt I was feeling. My queen was a few feet behind me, in a cabin with another man.
“Fucking three of diamonds!” I said and knocked back a shot of vodka.
“You fought bravely and ferociously.” Ben put a hand on my shoulder in mock condolence. “But you were defeated.” He reached for the bottle of vodka. “We were all defeated.” He filled our glasses and set the bottle down in the center of the table, right on the queen of hearts.
Ben raised his glass. “To the queen, and to her brave and loyal subjects.”
They clinked glasses and drank. I didn’t move. I wasn’t sulking; I was just slow. Ken glanced at me again, and he gave me a sympathetic smile. I smiled back. I’d been found out. But I was glad it was Ken. I knew he could keep a secret.
Bonita returned to the table.
“That was fast,” said Trevor.
Bonita simply offered him a sly tilt of the head and a raised brow.
Landon came out of the cabin, hands on his hips, chest out, head held high. There wasn’t much space between the cabin and the table for a victory lap, but what space there was, Landon made full use of it. He strutted around like a drunken peacock. It was hard to stay upset or jealous when he was being so silly.
When he finally sat back down, all eyes went from him to Bonita and back.
Ken reached for the cards. “Poker?”
“Poke ‘er,” said Landon. “No. I just kissed her.”
I caught Bonita blushing, but even she laughed.
I extended a hand toward Ken. “I’ll shuffle.”
Bonita leaned back in the sofa seat, which might as well have been a throne at this point. She splayed her arms out across the backrest. “The queen has tired of poker,” she said in a wicked yet commanding tone.
I found what I was looking for, an ace, and I slipped it onto my lap. I set the deck of cards down in front of Bonita. “My queen.”
She nodded. “Thank you, my subject.” She took up the deck, gave it a cut and began, “Once upon a time, there was a queen…”
I am by no means a magician. I’ve never practiced sleight of hand. But we were all drunk, and no one was paying close attention. I was the last to go. And when I did, I flipped over my ace. It was met with cheers. It was Ken who cheered the loudest.
Bonita smiled at me. Then, without a word, she stood from the table and, in two steps, slipped into the cabin.
7
Bonita
Iceland is an island resting, literally, on a series of volcanoes. Beneath the surface, there is a friction so intense it could erupt at any moment. That is exactly how I felt when I set foot on that land. I had just spent six days on a small boat, alone, with nine men: nine gorgeous, physical specimens. I knew it wouldn’t be long before my pent-up feelings were released. And when they did, Mount Etna and Mount St. Helens would have nothing on me.