There were footsteps in the hall, and he looked up to find Ned approaching. “It was kind of you to clean my things,” he started.
But Ned waved the thanks away. “You’re not leaving yet, are you, sir? Mrs. Harrick—that’s our cook, see?—is making breakfast. Her daughter, Elsie, was there when you brought us that painting, in the spring. She’d like to see you again.”
The painting of Barcelona that Lord Fine had destroyed, because Sebastian made him so afraid.
Sebastian swallowed. “Thank you, but it’s best if I go. Please give my thanks to Miss Elsie and the others, yes?”
He stepped out into the drizzly London morning and quickened his steps, leaving the townhouse behind as he went to find a taxi or tube station.
The next time Wesley looked up, the wall where Sebastian had stood was empty.
He frowned. He hadn’t heard the departing steps, and the wall seemed blank without the handsome man.
That made him frown harder. Christ, could he not even look at his own walls now without wanting to see Sebastian?
“Where has Sebastian gone?” he said to Jade.
Jade cocked her head, and wasn’t that sodding bizarre, now that he knew she was listening to her lover’s astral projection. “I’m not sure. Jianwei can’t actually see Sebastian at the moment.”
“Why not?”
“Did you see the tattoo on Sebastian’s wrist?”
Of course I did, I can’t take my bleeding eyes off the man.“I might have,” Wesley said cagily.
“The tattoo is also magic,” she said. “It hides him from magical detection. Jianwei can’t see him from the astral plane unless he’s seen him from the physical plane as well.”
Magic men with magic tattoos. Wesley really was in Wonderland.
He glanced at the empty wall again. There had been a moment of softness on Sebastian’s face when he’d first stepped into the morning room, and it had disappeared as soon as Wesley had insulted his magic.
And so what? Wesley had no cause to feel defensive.Handsome men are just bleeding touchy,he reminded himself.Sebastian is likely so used to admirers he can’t handle a few hard truths.
But another voice in his head pricked at him. Don’t lie to yourself, Wesley. His magic saved your life; you think he’s perfectly incredible. The only hard truth here is that you insulted him because he makes your cock hard without your permission and your ego can’t handle it.
Wesley’s frown became pinched. Sebastian is still a criminal, just apparently a sulky one. Ignore him, he instructed himself.
Ignore him.
Hilarious.
Wesley resolutely looked away from the empty wall, gesturing at the covered painting on the floor instead. “You haven’t yet explained yourgift,” he said, using the word Jade had used.
“Not actuallymygift at all,” Jade said. “It’s from Sebastian. His cousin, the paranormal who created his tattoo, also paints. This is the last of her art he has in this country, and as you don’t have the Barcelona painting anymore, he’s offering this one to protect your home.”
Wesley opened his mouth, then closed it.
He had many of his ownhard truths, and he prided himself on being able to face them like a man. And at the top of Wesley’s truths was that no one would ever seek his company unless they wanted what he had. It might be his money, his status, or possibly sex, but to a one, his social circle, his family, even his lovers only tolerated his near-intolerable presence because Wesley had the things that everyone else wanted.
Except apparently magic was real.
And Wesley didn’t have it.
As he stared at the covered gift, the memory of the brilliant colors of Barcelona swirling down the drain replayed itself in Wesley’s mind. Sebastian had magic. And even though Wesley had apparently destroyed his family’s magic, Sebastian was offering a new painting to protect his home.
Without asking for anything in return.
He hadn’t actually ever asked Wesley for anything, not even to unlock his handcuffs.
