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“How dare you.” Aleksey rose and tugged at his shirt cuff, a gesture he’d borrowed from Philipa’s favourite houseguest. “This is a Savile Row suit. Now, do you mind?” He glanced down at the hand that came to rest on his arm. The fingers were familiar, of course. He knew them quite well. He sighed, but outwardly this time and more genuinely. “Do not do this, Gustav. You only make things worse.”
The Honourable seized the moment, or perhaps the use of his actual name, and stood intimately close. Aleksey recoiled instinctively and knew the other had felt it.
He wasn’t surprised by the bitter, “Why are you always like this? Haven’t we been good to—? Don’t you want to have a proper relationship?”
Aleksey didn’t know where to start. Laughing, he sensed, was definitely not the best place. He put his hand lightly over The Honourable’s and then looked down into the other man’s eyes. Definitely hazel. “Youwereright, Gustav. Very clever of you. I am nothing more than this suit. I have nothing inside me. I am entirely hollow of the things you are looking for. I am sorry.” Before the other man could reply, he continued quickly, “Washington. You once said you wanted it and all the good things that might be available to you there. I will make a post for you.”
Gustav’s eyes raked his, possibly seeking something behind the neutrality of the words. To Aleksey’s immense surprise, instead of responding to the offer of the much-desired posting, he asked slyly, “What would G-Mummy say if she knew about us, hmm? About what her husband does with her wee Godson during those delicious little weekend parties?”
Aleksey allowed the laugh he’d been suppressing to emerge, and he physically broke from the closeness, pushing past the other man and going to the bar. He poured himself a drink and held it to the light in anticipation before replying, “I think firstly she would be excessively annoyed to be bothered with such a trifle. And secondly she would realise that you could not be trusted. What goes on inThe Familystays in The Family, Gustav. Have they never told you that? Oh, dear, do not make yourself a liability to her.Zdorovye!”
He heard his slip as he tossed the vodka down, but could tell from The Honourable’s distracted air that he had either not heard the toast or not understood its provenance. “Take the Washington job. It is the best offer I will make you. The only one.”
The Honourable raised his eyes to stare at him. "Will you...find someone else?"
Aleksey poured himself another drink, his back now to this young Mountbatten, so his frown of confusion was entirely private.
It had merely been a glint of sunlight bouncing off the Thames, he was sure, but he had seen a flicker of light travel across the off-white ceiling like a tiny green flare of desire.
* * *
Chapter 6
Six Months Before April
During the evening, Ben did his best to divert Nikolas’s thoughts from his earlier phone call, but as Nikolas insisted on watching the news on the twenty-four-hour news channel, which featured nothing but the unfolding drama of the royal engagement and proposed wedding, it wasn’t an easy task.
His brainwave occurred to him as they climbed into bed later that night. They were already kissing, which wasn’t usually an activity when Ben thought anything at all, other than an intense desire for more—a need to explore Nikolas further and to be taken by that strong body to places no one else ever had or would. Nikolas willing to delay sex for the pleasure of kissing him was still new enough to delight Ben every time it occurred. He’d endured so many years of this activity being skipped in favour of Nikolas releasing the taut urgency that always consumed him, that each movement of Nikolas’s lips, each smile sensed through the touch of their mouths made Ben swell to intense peaks of frustrated need, which he was then the one to demand relief from. Nikolas, it was clear, could have stayed kissing him for a great deal longer if allowed. They rolled and fought for mastery, even of this; Nikolas on his back, accepting Ben’s lips then surging up and rolling them so he lay strong and heavy upon Ben. Hands possessed and roamed, and yet still their mouths were wide and eager, tongues seeking and receiving, dancing in almost choreographed synchronicity.
“Maybe we should.”
“Hmm?”
“Make ourselvesscarce. Go away somewhere. For a while.”
“Go away?”
“Yeah. Maybe we should—could. Have a holiday.”
Nikolas lifted his mouth from Ben’s, more, Ben suspected, because it was difficult to kiss someone who was talking than from interest in the actual conversation. Before Nikolas could begin an assault on another part of his body, Ben eased over him and repeated, “Wecouldhave a holiday.”
Nikolas’s lips parted a little, and Ben narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Were you about to ask from what?”
Nikolas smirked then rolled away and rummaged in his nightstand and produced the inevitable cigarettes. As he lit up and blew the first long trail of smoke into the room, he pointed out, “Our holidays have not proved very successful in the past.”
Ben began trailing his finger up and down Nik’s hard belly because he knew it tickled and annoyed Nikolas excessively. “We’ve just been unlucky maybe. But there must be something—somewhere—safe…?”
They pondered this together, Ben enjoying Nikolas’s second-hand smoke, although he would never admit it. Finally, he offered tentatively, “How about a cruise? We haven’t tried one of those yet.”
Nikolas pursed his lips, eyes scrunched, whether at the suggestion or the smoke, Ben couldn’t tell. “Poseidon Adventure,” was his eventual, gloomy response.
Ben twitched his nose. It was his fault, he supposed. He made Nikolas watch these kinds of movies.
“Asmallboat then. A private cruise—no upturned hull spaces.”
“Somali pirates.”
“Uh-huh. A small private cruisein the Pacific.”
