Love is a Stranger (10 page)

Ben guessed the cards had finally fallen for Nikolas Mikkelsen.

He was angry, numb, furious, and confused. He was sick to his stomach that it appeared he wasn’t needed now in the aftermath of the shadow dance. This left him in something of a dilemma. He didn’t want to work for a new boss. He wasn’t all that sure he wanted to work in this business at all anymore. He had a moment of clarity about what he did want though and used his charm with Kate once more to find out an address. The next day, he recovered his bike from storage and headed back to the country.

He found the small cottage easily and sat outside, secluded in some trees until he saw a car leave. He removed his helmet, swung off the bike, and approached the house. Tim Watson answered the door in familiar corduroy and crumpled cotton. His eyes widened behind new glasses. “Christ! Jaime! You’re dead!”

Ben laughed. “People have a habit of thinking that and being wrong. How are you?”

Tim’s eyes were still wide. Suddenly, he remembered his manners and waved Ben in. “You’ve just missed John. He had a lecture.”

Ben pretended not to know this and not to have arranged this visit for that very reason. Tim, he noticed, not only still showed the faint traces of a severe beating, but he also walked with a slight limp. “I’m sorry, by the way, for how it all worked out.”

Tim waved a hand in denial. “I’m the one who should apologise. I had no idea. Christ, I’ve had the police here—Special Branch. People I’m not even sure
are
police—questioning me, questioning John. It’s been a nightmare.”

“How are your badgers?”

Tim laughed and sat heavily at the kitchen table, gesturing for Ben to do the same. “Oh,
they
are just fine. Not a hair on their bloody snouts has been damaged. While I’ve had swelling on the brain. I still can’t—Never mind. Anyway, I’m thinking of concentrating on human rights from now on.”

Ben nodded. “Make sure you are on the side of the angels, Tim. Know who the good guys in this world are.”

“Like you?”

Ben looked away.

“I remember, by the way, you telling Sean to let me go so he could have you instead. I won’t forget that. If you ever need—Shit, what am I saying? I don’t even know your real name, do I?”

“No.”

“You weren’t really on that course?”

“No.”

Tim nodded glumly then laughed ruefully. “Hey, did I nearly fuck James Bond?”

Ben laughed with him. “How about you make me a cuppa, and I’ll tell you all about my glamorous life as a ninja assassin.”

They sat for the rest of the afternoon in the sun-drenched kitchen, drinking strong tea, and it was so normal Ben was closer to complete madness than at any time since he watched Allouni’s brains slide slowly down immaculate leather. They talked about Tim’s work, house prices, renovation of cottages, and Ben even got introduced to John on his return. He liked him and felt comfortable with them both. He wondered whether if he stayed there long enough he would become almost human. Finally, however, he had no further excuse to intrude on their lives. He seemed to have a habit of wrecking the lives he came in contact with. As he left, Tim followed him out. He laid a hand on Ben’s arm. “It was never Nate, was it?” Ben stared up at the sky.

“No.”

Tim nodded. “We only live one life, Jaime. Don’t waste an opportunity to be loved.”

Ben glanced over at him, at his beautiful eyes and wistful expression. “Is that your damn ethics again?”

Tim laughed. “God no. That’s my heart telling you that, idiot. Only thing worth listening to when all is said and done.”

Ben pouted. His heart had been strangely silent his whole life, and when it did speak, it fucked him up. He nodded though and jogged to his bike, swinging his leg over and firing it up. He pointed it back to London and drove too fast, as always, back to his empty life and an unappealing, uncertain future.

§§§

Ben was approaching the M25 when he felt his phone buzz. He swung over at the first services to read his messages. There was just an address from a number withheld. His heart skipped and missed a beat. He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t experienced it—literal heart attack material on a Ducati in black leather next to a burger stand. The incongruity of it all hit him and he began to laugh.

The address was a mews cottage in London with a gated entrance. He had to leave his bike in an underground car park and walk. He knocked on the door. A red door—he remembered that later. Someone answered. He didn’t recognise the man at first until his brain caught up with the changes. Nikolas in faded jeans. Nikolas with bare feet and a soft, creased shirt open over an old, cotton T-shirt. Nikolas with rumpled hair and wearing glasses. And, fuck, Nikolas taking a long, slow drag on a cigarette. Ben’s dick caught on long before his brain. He pushed in, kicked the door closed, and slammed Nikolas to the wall, sucking on his smoke-filled mouth. He pulled off the glasses and kissed his face and suddenly discovered he was saying “
fuck you, fuck you, fuck you”
like some blasphemous litany of need. He felt strong arms come around him, and Nikolas murmured, “Calm down, Benjamin. Everything will be well.”

Ben pushed Nikolas’s shoulders back against the wall. “What the fuck! Two months! I’ve heard nothing! Some tit is sitting at your desk, and he didn’t even offer me a cup of coffee. Two fucking bullets and no coffee!”

“Benjamin, calm down. I will offer you a cup of tea. I intend to offer you a great deal more, but you are English, so we will start with tea.” He led the way to the back of the house where the kitchen and dining room had been incorporated and pushed out into a huge, glass-ceiling conservatory.

“Whose house is this?”

Nikolas smiled. “Mine. Actually mine. No shadows, see?”

“Yeah.” Ben turned in place, the light catching his hair.

He found Nikolas’s arms around him suddenly from behind and a kiss placed on his neck. “Sit down.”

Ben’s knees were weak, so he sat heavily. “What’s happening, sir? Are you…? Is Lady Philipa…?”

Nikolas had his back to Ben, unnecessarily watching the kettle boil. “Two months is a long time in the life of a shadow man, I have discovered.” He placed a cup of tea in front of Ben and sat opposite him. Ben couldn’t take his eyes off Nikolas’s feet—bare feet but not in bed. It was unthinkable. As if reading his mind, Nikolas laughed and tucked them under the chair, sipping his tea. “I have resigned, by the way. You were right, the whole Allouni operation was compromised. But I am not to investigate, apparently. It is sensitive. Apparently.” He shrugged. “So I resigned.”

“Oh. That’s bad.”

“For whom, Benjamin? Not for me and not for you.”

“Me?”

“Hmm. Drink your tea and tell me how you are.”

“If you’d contacted me you’d know how I am.”

“I could not involve you in the potential scandal that almost brought everything down around me, Benjamin. Can you imagine? Heir to the throne caught in such circumstances. But now all is well. He is a doting new father with an adoring young wife. Even I was impressed with the level of duplicity displayed.”

“And Lady…?”

“I said
potential
scandal. She still has everything she ever wanted.”

“Oh. And you?”

“Ah. Yes. Me.” Nikolas pouted, seeming to be fascinated with his teacup, which had a picture of his wife’s lover on it. “Life is interesting, Benjamin. I came to England many years ago and was offered a strange opportunity. I took it, and it worked well. Until it didn’t.”

“Until?”

“Until I met you.”

“Oh.”

Nik smiled ruefully. “Then all the worldly things I had been offered were not so satisfactory.”

“The house, the money, the position, the authority, the title?”

Nikolas looked slightly sheepish. “You know me too well. Believe me or do not, but it is true—it all became meaningless. I wanted something I could not have, but then fate intervened and made having it possible.”

“You mean you got booted out on your arse, and now you’re at a loose end.”

Nikolas chuckled. “Resigned. And I am not at a loose end.” He took a drag on his cigarette, squinting thoughtfully at Ben through the smoke. He quirked his lips. “See? I have started smoking again. It is keeping me happily occupied.”

“Fuck me.”

Nik raised his eyes. “You really must stop asking me to do that. I keep promising you that I will. Perhaps that is now my cue to take you to the bedroom.”

Ben stayed still. His heart did one of those odd jigs, but this time not such a pleasant one. “So, you what…? You’re kicked out of your job, and you think I’ll come around to get fucked every so often for your convenience?”

Nikolas pouted. “Something like that, but, Benjamin—”

Ben stood swiftly, his chair tipping over. “I’d want paying, you fucker, now that you’re not stumping up for expensive hotel rooms for us to fuck in.”

“Stop being melodramatic, stop swearing, and sit down.”

“And you can kiss my arse if you think I’m gonna—”

“Benjamin! Will you shut up, please, for one moment?” Ben glared, didn’t sit back down, but was silent. “How would you feel about coming to work for me?”

Ben’s mind reeled. “As…as your—?”

“Don’t be absurd. Not like that. I am setting up my own agency. It is time. I need good people I can trust.”

“Private Black Ops? That’s different. And illegal?”

“Well, I prefer to think of it in terms of necessary operations—as our recent experience has shown. But yes, essentially, a private agency for off-the-record requirements.”

Ben picked up his chair and sat back down. “So, what was that about showing me to the bloody bedroom?”

Nikolas smirked and tried to hide it behind his tea. “I have four bedrooms. I have had one converted into an office.”

“You’re a very funny guy, do you know that? Beneath that bloody irritating exterior.”

“So, what do you think?”

“How much are you going to pay me?”

“That depends on the benefit package we negotiate.”

“I don’t come cheap.”

“I am a very generous employer, but I would want an exclusivity clause.”

“A what? And what the fuck are you implying?”

“How was your visit with Tim Watson this afternoon? You were there four hours and thirty-three minutes.”

Ben leant back. “I take it back. You’re not so funny now.”

Nikolas suddenly looked away, gazing out of the huge windows to the walled garden, and Ben saw something in the gaze he’d never seen before—never thought he would ever see. He said carefully, “You have a very strange way of showing you care, Nikolas. You might want to work on that a bit.”

“That does not change the fact that you were there for four hours and—”

“Thirty-three minutes. Yeah, I got that. We were
talking
.”

Nikolas looked back. Ben held his gaze. Finally, Nikolas’s shoulders relaxed and he gave a tiny nod. He held out a hand. “Then come see the other bedrooms. They do not have mullioned windows, but one is yours. If you want it.”

They stood and climbed the narrow stairs to the top floor. One room was bare except for a large Scandinavian bed with a plain white sheet. For the first time, Ben got to undress Nikolas without urgency and a feeling of stolen time. Nikolas, it appeared, didn’t belong to anyone else now. His body was lean and hard, pale from winter and his northern genes. His prick stood up, full and ready and flushed dark pink. Ben groaned in pleasure and fell to his knees, wincing slightly in pain as his bad knee hit the bleached wooden floor. But with a glance up for permission, he took the head of Nikolas’s cock into his mouth for the very first time. He closed his eyes in bliss as he felt strong fingers snag his hair and heard a soft expletive in the other’s native language. He slid his lips down and consciously opened his throat, taking the leaking cockhead to the very back and fighting the urge to gag. Nikolas was either utterly inexperienced or deeply in love because, unable to hold back, he released, incoherent cries accompanying the warm shots which slid down Ben’s throat and coated his tongue as he gently eased off. He rose quickly and captured Nikolas’s mouth, pushing him to the bed. Releasing himself, urgent, desperate, he turned the willing body and entered Nikolas, leaning on him, heavy and hot, stroking the pale, lean back, easing the thighs apart for better access. The entry was familiar, yet exciting and new at the same time. Ben chuckled against the warm back and found just the right angle. Nikolas scrunched his fingers in the sheet. Ben brought his lips to Nikolas’s cheek. “Do you know how much I sometimes hate you?”