Max and the Prince (13 page)

Instead he was left with shit he wasn’t sure how to get away
from.

“What pattern?” Lucien asked. “If it’s the same person who
killed Oscar Sheiver back home, then isn’t this the same thing, he thought I
was being threatened and he decided to remove the problem?”

“I didn’t mean that, I meant the notes themselves. The other
two were posted or left outside the house; this is far more personal. Whoever
this was went into the house, took every kind of risk placing this on your bed.
Did they do that before they killed Lennox? Did whoever your stalker is
actually kill Lennox? Or did the stalker just take advantage of the door
already being broken?”

“What?” Lucien said. He looked stunned. “What two?” His tone
was firmer, more pointed.

Max was confused for a moment. “Two?”

“You said the other two were pushed through the door.
Letters to the house? New ones you knew about but decided not to tell me?”

Max straightened his back. “You didn’t need to know.”

“Did they threaten Kev? Or Jamie?”

“No.”

“What did they say?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Max attempted to cut this
off at the root, but even as he knew he said it, he was more than aware that
Lucien wasn’t going to leave this. Added to which, he could hear his voice
becoming more clipped and tight with anger.

“Tell. Me.”

“The first just said
welcome home
, the second wished
you luck at the swim meet.”

“That’s all?”

“There was something else.”

Lucien stood and balled his hands into fists at his sides. “And?”

“The second note, whoever wrote it said they’d be thinking
about you.”

“I thought you worked for me,” he said. Ice dripped from
every word. He was angry and he had pulled that mask of civility tight down
over it. He had every right to be angry, but Max was not backing down now.

Max winced. “I do—”

“Then clearly you need to reassess your priorities.”

Max pressed a hand to Lucien’s chest. “It’s my job to
protect you.”

Lucien pushed his hand away and picked up his bag. “In
future I will be apprised of all things pertaining to this case.”

Max stepped back and away. Gone was the lover, in his place
was someone who was in shock and who thought he’d really been fucked over.

“I’ll be next door.” Lucien opened the connecting door and
made to close it behind himself, but Max beat him to it.

“Don’t lock this door,” Max warned.

Lucien stared at him, his expression furious. “Step back,
Max.”

If anything, that made Max more intent. “I didn’t need to
fuck your life by telling you about the letters. If you want to act like a
child, then you get your own room but you keep the main entrance door locked
and you don’t lock this door.”

Lucien closed his eyes briefly, then taking Max off guard,
he shoved hard and slammed the door in Max’s face.

For a moment Max tensed to react, but when he didn’t hear a
key being turned in the lock, he had to trust that Lucien was listening to what
he’d said even in the depths of temper.

I have to keep Lucien safe.

Rolling his shoulders to loosen the tension that resided
there, he crossed to his phone. The police needed the letter, BI needed to
liaise.

He had a job to do.

Max watched Lucien at the Police Station reception. They’d
done their witness statements and were told they were free to go. Not back to
the house, that was still off limits, but they always had the hotel. Reading
week meant Lucien had a few days off and they could always make use of the
rooms back at BI. Lucien had been very quiet at breakfast, but they had at
least talked a little bit. If anything, Lucien was lost in his own world, but
he didn’t still seem angry or pissed about the letters. He said something in
the car about them talking later and Max had to settle for that.

Lucien made animated shapes with his hands as he talked to
the sergeant who in turn watched him with a bemused expression on his face.
Finally the sergeant looked to give in or give up, Max wasn’t sure from this
distance. But when Jamie appeared from a side room looking pale and shaky, Max
sat upright. What the fuck? Why hadn’t they dumped his ass in a hospital or
something?

“He’s coming with us,” Lucien announced. His expression was
fixed, there was no room for maneuvering in those eyes. Lucien had decided what
was happening next and that apparently included Jamie.

“Lucien—”

“We need to get him somewhere where he can get well. I’ve
taken full responsibility.”

“Luke, you can just leave me here,” Jamie said. Max agreed
with the statement, but he and Jamie were apparently up against a brick wall of
stubbornness.

“I’m not
fucking
arguing,” Lucien snapped. The curse
word coming from Lucien underscored exactly how he was feeling: pissed, firm, and
way out of his comfort zone.

Max made a decision. “We’ll all go to BI.”

“I need to find—”

“BI will know somewhere.”

Jamie looked uncertainly from Max to Lucien. “Who’s BI?”

Max sighed. “We’ll explain in the car.”

The clarification went fairly well, and Jamie was quiet for
the longest time. Then when he’d processed, he was like a dog with a bone.

“Luke, you’re really a prince? Like, a real-life prince?” he
said. Max glanced in the mirror and saw Jamie’s expression, a little shocked, a
whole lot curious.

“Yes, but, not… Look… it doesn’t change anything,” Lucien said.

“And your real name is Lucien, not Luke.”

“My brother used to call me Luke.”

Max drove steadily towards BI, and Lucien and Jamie talked
for a while until Jamie went quiet. Max watched the young man carefully and
wondered when he’d last had any kind of meds.

“Four hours,” Jamie answered the unspoken question. Then he
held up a box and waved it. “Empty, see?”

Max didn’t want to have to think about how long it took for
the drugs to leave his system and he hoped to hell they reached BI and could
get Jamie some kind of place to get help soon.

When they drove up the wide gravel driveway to the manor, it
was Jamie who sat bolt upright in the back with a look of astonishment on his
face. Lucien had already been here and Max was immune to the beauty of the old
pile, but to a newbie it probably looked very impressive.

“What is this place?”

“The owner is a guy called Kyle,” Lucien explained. “He
inherited the place and set up Bodyguards Inc.”

“It’s like freaking
Downton Abbey
,” Jamie said.

Max didn’t point out it was nothing like that; instead he
parked in the visitor parking and turned off the engine. Lucien was out first,
Jamie close behind, and Max was left to lock the car and wonder what the hell
he’d gotten into.

Lucien is a client. A client. I need to remember that.

In the past day they’d argued and it was uncomfortable, and
Max had no idea how to get back to that place where he’d felt he was falling in
love.
Who am I kidding? I fucked up.

He followed the other two into the offices and caught the
tail end of a conversation between Lucien and Ross.

“We have several facilities in our records that have good
reputations. Do you want me to make some calls?”

Jamie sat at the long conference table in the main office
looking overwhelmed.

“He’s like a different person,” Jamie said. Max realized
Jamie was talking to him.

“Sorry?”

“He’s taking charge and not letting me think. I’ve never
seen him like this before. He’s always been so quiet.”

Max took the seat next to Jamie. “He’s exactly what you
need.”

Jamie steepled his hands and rested his chin on them. “And
what you need too. He likes you a lot.”

Max huffed a laugh. “That’s blatantly not true at the
moment.”

“So you pissed him off, I get that, and yes I am perceptive.
I know there’s tension between the two of you. But, shit, you look good
together. Look at him, he keeps checking where you are in the room.”

Max glanced over to where Lucien was talking to Ross, but
Lucien very obviously had his back to both Max and Jamie.

“Yeah, right.”

Jamie continued. “And, let’s face it, he leans into you
whenever he’s anxious or upset.”

“I’m his bodyguard, of course he does.”

“You are so blind. Whatever you two are, whatever you
pretend to be for everyone else, remember I’ve seen you together. Seriously,
he’s in love with you, and from the way you keep looking at him, I bet you feel
the same way.”

“I think the drugs have rotted your mind.” Max considered he
might have stepped over the mark with that, but all Jamie did was throw back
his head and laugh.

“Talking of being his bodyguard, what are you? Twenty-three
or something?” Jamie teased. “And you’re kind of on the short side.”

“I’m twenty-eight,” Max said with his usual long-suffering
sigh.

Jamie peered at him. “I wish I had your bone structure,” he
said.

Lucien arrived at the table and Max was happy for the
interruption. He slid in to the chair opposite Jamie.

“You want to do this?” he asked Jamie. “Ross can get you in.
It’s a good place, the one he’s shortlisted.”

“Of course I don’t want to do this,” Jamie answered
immediately. “What addict actually wants to start the shakes and the sickness
and all the other exciting things you get with withdrawal?”

“You’re here, I think you’re ready,” Max said.

“Max will take you,” Lucien said. “And I’ll go as well.”

Max looked up sharply. “After I’ve briefed Ross about what
happened at the house.”

“Agreed.”

* * *
* *

The debrief took all of half an hour, which Lucien spent
watching Max, or rather watching his rear, the way his blond hair was
ruthlessly short at the nape of his neck, the muscles in his back, and the way
the jacket he wore stretched across his broad shoulders. Lucien saw the skin
that he’d kissed, the texture of his hair, and he nearly doubled over with the
pain of everything that was happening to him. He loved Max and he wasn’t sure
how he was ever going to let the man go when this was all over.

“You have it so bad,” Jamie said. He looked tired and was
probably due another dose of those meds that ruled his life.

“What?”

“Max, the bodyguard, your man there. You have it bad for
him.”

Lucien sighed. Yes, he had it bad for Max, which is why it
was so hard to keep that client/bodyguard relationship clear-cut. Finding out
that Max had kept secrets screwed with Lucien’s head. His family had kept
secrets from him, his parents’ advisors, friends, no one was honest with him.
Max keeping the existence of letters from him was hard to swallow.

Of course the rational side of him knew damn well Max had
his reasons. Keeping Lucien safe was a full-time job, and Max took it very
seriously. But the lover side felt wrong somehow, like things weren’t fitting
together properly.

“I like him a lot.”

“What’s not to like, he’s sexy, hot, blond, and those blue
eyes are to die for. If only he had boobs and was called Maxine, I’d have my
tongue hanging out.”

“Ready to go?” Max asked. He stalked out of the office, and Lucien
and Jamie jumped up and followed.

The drive to the place where Jamie would be safe was quiet.
Jamie looked paler by the minute, and when Lucien glanced at him as they got
out of the car, his hands were shaking.

“I can’t do this,” Jamie said.

They stood outside another imposing building, this one newer
but softened with ivy and landscaped gardens. There was a wall, a gate, but there
was nothing to indicate this was anything other than someone’s home.

“You can.” Lucien grasped Jamie’s shaking hand. “Come on.
Let’s go see.”

Leaving Jamie was one of the hardest things Lucien had ever
done. He’d gone quietly, ridiculously thankful that Lucien was covering the
costs of the stay but equally furious that Lucien was leaving him.

“He’ll be okay, right?” Lucien asked.

Max glanced at him from the driver’s seat, then immediately
looked back at the road. “He’ll be okay or he won’t,” he said. “Not everyone
takes to rehab straight away, but Jamie’s a good kid. He got through his A
Levels, got through two years of uni, he’s got enormous potential.”

“You see that too?”

Max worried his lip with his teeth and said nothing. Then he
indicated and pulled over into a small layby sheltered with trees. He killed
the engine and turned in his seat.

“I see him through your eyes,” he said. He was speaking
softly, almost cautiously. “If you think he’s going to be okay, if you see
something in him, then I see the same thing.”

Lucien digested the information. He searched for the anger
he’d harbored for Max but came up empty. Somehow all the shit that they were
going through meant nothing. “Why?”

Max shrugged. “I’m not sure I have it fully figured out. But
I do know one thing. I love you.”

Lucien heard the words, but for a few seconds they didn’t
sink in. Then abruptly his brain caught up with his heart and he opened his
mouth to say something, only nothing came out.

Max smiled wryly. “Here’s where you say you don’t understand
why I kept the letters from you but it’s okay because you still love me too.”

“You really love me?”

“I do.”

“Even after this is done?”

“Especially after this is done.”

They met in the middle, awkwardly stuck in seat belts yet kissing
like there was nothing else. Max cradled Lucien’s face and tilted his head to
deepen the kiss, and Lucien just melted.

They separated and Max was grinning. “Let’s get back to BI.”

He started the car and pulled out onto the main road. Lucien
settled back in his seat, catching a look at his expression in the mirror and
seeing that he was grinning too.

Max switched on the radio and was humming along to some song
Lucien hadn’t heard. He lost himself in his own thoughts.

I bet whoever wrote those letters never imagined I would
fall in love with my bodyguard.

Something about that thought had him closing his eyes to
focus on the words. Whoever wrote the letters didn’t threaten Lucien. They implied
he would end up dead, but the writer never said he would kill Lucien. They didn’t
ask for money or material reward. They spoke of thinking about Lucien, about
wishing him luck at the swim meet. Yes the writer had encouraged Kev to the
pool and Kev had ended up nearly dead, and hell, Lennox had died, and there had
been a letter there. But the letter on his bed after Lennox was killed had told
Lucien that Lennox had put him in danger. The writer spoke of the fact that he
wasn’t having Lucien put in danger.

“Someone else loves me,” Lucien blurted over the sound of
the song on the radio.

Max pulled up at the traffic lights on red and looked at
Lucien. “What do you mean?”

“The letters, think about it, no demands for money, just
statements of caring and support and misguided revenge on anyone that was
causing me issues. What if whoever wrote it saw me arguing with Kev—yeah, we
hugged—but what if whoever it was thought Kev was pushing it too far?”

“That isn’t a stretch, a stalker is someone who has an
obsession.” The lights changed and Max pulled out and turned right onto the
main carriageway. They weren’t far from BI, but abruptly Lucien didn’t want to
go there. He had a puzzle in his head, something in the far reaches of his
brain that was teasing him.

Someone who had been back at home, who was now in the UK,
who loved him. Maybe they’d been looking at this wrong.

“You love me, right? And you want to have sex with me, sleep
with me? Right?”

Max chuckled. “Every chance I get.” Then he became more
serious. “What are you trying to get at?”

“What if the author of these letters thinks he loves me and
needs to look out for me? To protect me? Shit—” Suddenly the nebulous thought
that was out of reach coalesced into something more. “Nanny Hilda? Or Bryce
Norman.”

“Your nanny is in a home, she’s eighty something.”

“But Bryce is only in his early sixties.”

“The tutor, really?”

“He took a position at Gloucester University after Seb died.
There were no more children in our family to teach, but he’d been my tutor for
years and he was my only friend when Seb died, the only one who comforted me
and didn’t expect me to show the world my fake face.”

They pulled into the driveway to BI, and as soon as the car
stopped, Max turned to him.

“Bryce Norman.”

“He’d be sixty-five or so now.”

“I know, I have his profile.” Max frowned. “And you kept in
contact with him?”

“No. That’s it, you see, he never replied to any of the
letters I sent. I thought he was just someone else in my life doing his job and
not really caring about me.”

“Lucien—”

“What if it’s him, Max?” He was losing it here. Max climbed
out the car, and Lucien followed until they stood in front of the car. “What if
he’s been watching me? What if he killed Oscar Sheiver back home, and hurt Kev,
and now Lennox—?”