Thomas was right.
He did not have this in hand. He did not have this in hand atall.
It was his own fault. He’d allowed himself to be distracted by what amounted to a youthful crush on the captain. He’d been swayed by Thomas’s handsome face and square jaw, his wonderfully dry wit, and of course, all that magnificent muscle—and in doing so, he’d seriously underestimated Thomas and his powers of observation.
Despite the constant bed-hopping that was both part of his job and a pleasurable hobby, Evan hadn’t been truly drawn to someone in years. But Thomas had gotten under his skin without even trying, and Evan didn’t know what to do with that. He’d been taunted by images of Thomas pinning him down and fucking him through the mattress, and once that fantasy had popped into his head, he hadn’t been able to shake it, no matter how hard he tried.
Not that he’d tried very hard.
In the past he’d always claimed he didn’t have a type—other than willing—but it had become abundantly clear to him over the past few weeks that hedidhave a type and that it was a muscular blond giant named Thomas Malone.
And so he’d made a game of trying to entice Thomas with some subtle flirting, telling himself all he wanted was a little harmless fun, perhaps a night or two in the captain’s bed to get this attraction out of his system. But while he’d been mooning over Thomas and trying to tempt the man into making all his fantasies come true, he’d almost missed the clues that had pointed to the viscount and his skullduggery.
He consoled himself that he hadn’t missed the danger signs when it mattered, and hehadmanaged to prevent a regicide, but it had been far too close for his liking. And now the only leads he had to catch whoever was trying to kill someone in his family were a well-dressed ambassador and a badly drawn cock and balls.
He huffed out a sharp breath that was almost a snort and sat up straight. This was no time to start wallowing in self-doubt. He’d succeeded with less in the past, and he’d succeed here too.
The alternative was unthinkable.
If anything happened to Leo or Felix, it would trigger a war, so it was Evan’s job to make sure that didn’t happen.
And in all his years of espionage, he’d never failed yet.
Of course, Evan hadn’t set out to be a spy. Did anybody?
When he was younger, he’d just assumed he’d spend his days supporting his cousin the crown prince and sort of lolling around the place. Except he’d always been a nosy little bugger, and as he grew from a gangly youth into a good-looking and personable young man, he discovered that his natural curiosity and keen observational skills combined with his easygoing charm meant people seemed to want to confide in him—whichtranslated into a habit of knowing all sorts of things he wasn’t meant to know. After he’d opened his mouth a few times at dinner and inserted his foot directly in it by sharing observations that were better kept secret, the king had taken him aside.
He’d thought he was about to get a dressing-down, but instead the king had said, “Evan, how would you like to travel, use your charm and your skills, and help protect the kingdom at the same time?”
He’d gone on to propose that Evan take advantage of his popularity and privilege to move between kingdoms, keeping his eyes and ears open, and report back.
“You mean… like a spy?”
The king had nodded. “Exactly like a spy.”
Evan had immediately been entranced with the idea. The king had cautioned that there would be danger involved and that he’d be sworn to secrecy, but to seventeen-year-old Evan, who was hungry for adventure, that had just made the whole thing more intriguing.
And so, after gaining his parents’ dubious approval, undertaking intensive hand-to-hand and weapons training, and spending several months learning tricks of the trade from a certain shadowy gentleman of the court who was looking to hang up his knives, Evan had embarked on his first bout of spying—and he’d never looked back.
He’d taken to it like a duck to water, and nobody had bothered to look twice at the young royal who wandered the halls in foreign castles with an innocent air.
Nobody had looked twice in ten years.
Of course, there were disadvantages. He couldn’t take a proper lover, for example. The risk they’d discover his secret was too great. And he had to admit that the role of palace idiot was starting to wear thin—sometimes he wished that instead of pretending he didn’t know his left from his right and couldn’tremember anyone’s name, he could just be himself and finally match wits against someone equally clever, without fear of exposing himself.
He’d bet Thomas would give him a run for his money. The man had a keen wit and a sharp mind, even though he hid it behind a cloak of deference.
Evan perked up at the thought that at least he could be himself with Thomas. The man was ridiculously attractive, and Evan was looking forward to spending more time with him while they were trying to figure out who was behind the attacks on the king. And if Evan happened to charm Thomas into his bed, so much the better.
God. Leo was going to laugh his arse off when Evan told him that the Captain of the bloody Guard had been the one to finally figure out he was the Rogue.
Or perhaps he wouldn’t be surprised at all. After all, Leo was the one who’d appointed Thomas as captain in the first place, so he obviously knew there was more to the man than met the eye.
Evan heaved another sigh and bent to pull his boots off. It had been a long night, and he had to be up before dawn for a meeting with the king. It was how they usually did things. He’d send a message and meet with Leopold and Felix in one of the empty cottages while it was still dark, pass on everything he knew, and then slip away to the castle where he’d go back to bed for a few hours. He’d emerge mid-morning complaining about the lack of breakfast, and nobody would know that he’d been up at the crack of a sparrow’s fart.
He’d stripped out of his shirt and was unbuttoning his breeches when there was a knock at the door. He frowned and debated ignoring it, but the knock came again, more persistent this time.
He ran both hands through his hair so it looked like he’d been sleeping, and shuffled over and opened the door.
