“And you togged to the bricks is fair play?”
“I’m wearing this tux for tonight’s job, not to make you suffer. Whereasyouare purposefully speaking Italian to rob me of what little sanity I have left.” He grabbed Rory’s hands in his own and pinned them to the coats, next to Rory’s head. Rory’s coat fell open, and Christ, he was still wearing Arthur’s shirt.
You’ll be late, Arthur tried to tell himself, but his resistance was crumbling like a sand castle in the waves.
“Baciami, I know, iskiss me.What’s the other bit?”
Rory squirmed. “It, ah—” Pink began to spread across his cheeks. “It doesn’t matter—”
“Of course it matters. You’ve called me thattwice.” Rory ducked his head, the soft skin of his neck exposed by the unbuttoned collar of Arthur’s too-big shirt.Stay strong, Ace. “Let me guess: it roughly translates toasshole?”
Rory winced. “Light of my eyes.”
Oh.
“And so what.” Rory scowled, cheeks red, eyes hot. “Italian was for my mom, it’s where my soft words are. I can still call you an asshole if you like that better.”
So this is what it feels like when your knees go weak.
Arthur glanced at the clock. “We have ten minutes until we have to leave.” He tightened his grip on Rory’s hands and pushed him meaningfully into the wall. “And you still need to put on your waiter’s uniform.”
Rory squirmed again. Arthur was getting the distinct impression he liked being pinned. “Come on, Ace—” and he was actually whining “—I can do that in like thirty seconds—”
“I’m not taking off my tux.”
Rory groaned. “Don’t make me beg—”
“You misunderstand.” Arthur dropped to his knees. “Iamnot taking off my tux.You, on the other hand,are about to lose all your clothes—and Iamgoing to make you beg.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“You’re late.”
The rendezvous point was off Lexington Avenue, some five blocks from Mansfield’s mansion, in the shadows of the skeletons of the new high-rise apartment buildings rising these days on every block. The cab idled at the curb as Arthur and Rory slipped into the alley to meet Jade. Under the bright full moon Arthur could see she’d forgone the suit and heels, although she was still in trousers, paired with military boots and a black coat.
“Of course we’re late.” Arthur took her large duffel bag and shouldered it himself. “You knew we would be. Don’t give us a hard time because the moon has you twitchy.”
“What’s the moon got to do with anything?” said Rory.
She glanced up the tall sides of the buildings to the night sky. “Magic comes in all flavors. Some paranormals have powers tied to nature, the moon most of all.” She sighed. “Itdoesmake me twitchy. But Ace is still late.”
“I’ll take the heat if you’re mad.” In the dark of the alley, away from prying eyes, Rory snuck close enough to tuck himself against Arthur’s side. His curls were free without his cap to clamp them down, and when he tilted his chin to look up it revealed the waiter’s bow tie around his neck. “Ace is worth it.”
Arthur’s heart fluttered. He gave Jade a smug look. “I’m worth it.”
She smiled grudgingly, her eyes soft. “I suppose he’s at least an upgrade over your usual style.”
Arthur’s most recent fling had been a prime example of hisusual style, an English aristocrat who’d prided himself on lavish gifts, gilded speech, and cold disdain for any kind of affection. “Lord Fine would not have looked half this adorable in a waiter’s uniform,” Arthur said lightly, risking tugging on one of Rory’s loose ringlets. He didn’t take warm spring for granted after endless winter.
Her smile grew. “Fair enough.”
“Who’s Lord Fine?” Rory glanced between them. “You don’t know a real lord, do you?”
“He’s no one worth remembering,” Jade said firmly. “Tell us more about Mansfield’s henchman from your visions, the one who always has a knife.”
Rory shrugged helplessly. “’Bout Ace’s age, good looking, paler than me but hair’s darker. He stood up real straight, like Ace does.”
Arthur exchanged a glance with Jade. “That describes half the American and French armies. Could be another ex-soldier, maybe a mercenary Mansfield hired?”
