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Ben felt something painful roil in his chest, a feeling he had not had since his ridiculous fears about Nikolas and Squeezy: jealousy. Hehadonce said this—but as a joke. And his version had included the tiny but vital additionif.IfNikolas had slept… It wasn’t even remotely funny without that caveat. He watched Nikolas tie the parcel in plain brown paper and garden twine, something else Nikolas claimed was essential for the overall effect, and his message behind the gift. Despite the scar disfiguring the web of skin between his thumb and fingers, Nikolas’s hands were still as beautiful as the day Ben had first seen them twiddling a fountain pen idly at a desk in Whitehall.
Nikolas looked up covertly from beneath lowered lashes. “Your eyes have never looked so green. I wonder why." Before Ben could rise to this, literally or metaphorically, Nikolas snorted and punched him lightly in the belly. “You are so amusing,Min Skat. Don’t ever change, will you?” He tossed the half-completed parcel away and wrestled Ben to the ground, not easy as he was laughing openly, and Ben was still furious—more at his own stupidity at being so envious than at Nikolas for being sofuckinglyannoying and calling him out on it. When Nikolas finally had him pinned, he panted, still highly amused, “Ben—Ben, stop it. Please. Ouch! I saw this manuscript many years ago in Russia. An acquaintance of Sergei’s owned it, with some other items of equal antiquity. Whenheso charmingly phoned to tell me why all the bells were ruining my ride, I, like you, thought he was inviting us to the wedding. Ididthink Philipa would ask Molly to be a flower girl. Can you picture her? In Westminster Abbey? But, no, I was being sent away like a…like a…” He rolled off Ben, staring thoughtfully up at the ceiling. “Like an old dog put out for the new.”
“So you buy a priceless gift? Something even they could not afford? Oh, that makesa lotmore sense now.”
Nikolas chuckled at the obvious sarcasm, but agreed happily, “Good. I’m glad you get it.”
Ben caught more than a hint of mischief in the amber eyes and rolled his own. “One day your bizarre sense of humour will be the death of you.”
* * *
Chapter 24
Nine Years Eight Months Ago
Over the nearly four years their strange association had continued, Aleksey never got to hotels before Ben, because he considered it beneath him to wait for anyone. But this one time, with nothing better to do to interest him, he had. Ben had been in Syria for a month, although the operation had only been expected to last for three weeks. His flight home had also been cancelled at the last minute, he’d been switched to economy just to get a new seat, and all this had added three days to an already long and convoluted return route.
They had last seen each other just before Ben’s flight out, when Aleksey had invited him down to Barton for the weekend. Ben appeared to enjoy his visits there now as long as they didn’t include socialising of any kind. The rest of the entertainment laid on he appeared to relish. But it had not been a particularly enjoyable meeting for either of them. Ben seemed distracted by the fact he was going to be out of country for so long and didn’t like the cover which had been established for him.
There to extract some English charity workers who’d been caught up in the civil war, Ben was travelling as the fiancé of a young Syrian doctor, the daughter of the country’s top army general. She had trained and was working in London, and knew the youngMédecins SansFrontièresdoctors who had been taken. She had the ideal contacts to enable Ben to navigate the complex situation in Aleppo. She also had perfect skin, long glossy hair, a superb figure, and was smart as a whip and knew it. She was not unenthusiastic at pretending that Ben was her fiancé whom she was taking home to introduce to her father. Not unenthusiastic at all.
She was keen to make it appear as legitimate as possible.
That Aleksey had arranged this cover for Ben, and that by doing so had pushed him and Salma Barakat together as lovers, seemed the main reason why Ben was in such a bad mood the weekend before he left.
And Aleksey knew that he had appeared to Ben even more cold and remote than usual. He’d also been in a very bad mood for some reason. Probably because it had rained all weekend.
After Ben’s departure, it had continued to be a very tedious few weeks of a damp squib of a summer. The rain had not ceased for the whole time, and he’d ridden in drizzle or downpour day after day, getting soaked through but working off a sense of fury with life in general. He and Philipa had bounced off each other, both equally frustrated by being trapped in the house. He had his study, the library, his horses. Nothing held his interest.
He was watching the TV when Ben finally arrived in the small suite he’d booked. It was a fascinating programme on Iron Age construction methods. Ben stood alongside the bed for a while as if waiting for something. Finally, he snatched up the remote and snapped the off button. With an edge to his voice, he muttered, “Hello, sir.” With that, he threw his duffle into a corner and sank into an easy chair, not onto the bed.
Aleksey finished his whisky before replying, “Hello, Benjamin. Good flight?”
Ben raised his head. “No. Have you ever flown fucking economy?”
“Do not swear at me, Benjamin. I have told you this many times.”
Ben didn’t respond to this one way or the other, but rose and went to the desk, opening drawers, clearly seeking the room service menu.
Aleksey narrowed his eyes at Ben’s back, considering this audacity. Food never came first when he was there.
He assumed he was being punished for the provocative TV watching. He needed to get them back on track. Well, Ben onto his cock, which was the track they always followed. But not conversing, not having an actual relationship was tricky when the norms—arrive, fuck, leave—were broken. He needed to say something that would remind Ben of his place in the scheme of things (aforementioned cock receptacle), and yet not be taken for an overture of something more.
Sometimes, he was impressed with his own genius. “You are very brown.”
Nothing.
Aleksey could have thought of lots of interesting replies to his innocent observation, which was why he’d made it.
“Do you want anything?” Ben waved the booklet at him.
Aleksey just let his eyebrows raise and his gaze travel down to the obvious.
Ben glanced at it but pursed his lips mutinously. “Yeah, well. I’m hungry.” TheI’ll get to that when it suits mewas unspoken but clear.
Aleksey swung fast off the bed and kicked Ben back into the chair.
It was very hard, Aleksey assumed, when prelude to sex between two men also resembled assault. Dangerous assumptions could be made. Ben was clearly unsure how to respond to this savagery. Although his senses were perhaps more finally tuned than Aleksey gave him credit for, because Benjamin Rider wasn’t thinking about sex. And he wasn’t thinking about food now either.
