“Oh.” Yves couldn’t think of anything else to say. He longed to see Yvette again himself and to hold her in his arms more than anything.
“She would like you to spend Christmas with the family,” Bradford went on.
Yves’ heart soared and then plummeted, all within the space of a few beats. “Would that I could,” he said, sagging.
“I am most certain that you can, given the right sort of help,” Bradford said. He still had one hand on Yves’ face, and he added the other one so that he held not only Yves’ head but his full attention. “Mrs. Cavanaugh is planning a grand dinner at midday on Christmas,” he said. “She painted quite the domestic picture of everything she plans to cook, the presents that will be exchanged, and the games that the entire family will play. Your brother’s widow and her children will also be there.”
“I am glad that Yvette has accepted Charlotte so fully,” Yves said. “I am quite certain that poor Charlotte needs a friend rightnow, as Guillame caused her to lose most of hers. She does not have much in the way of family either.”
“She could have you,” Bradford said. “They could all have you, and you could have them.”
“I would love that, truly, I would,” Yves said, his heart breaking all over again. “But you saw what happened when I attempted to leave the club.”
Bradford’s brow creased in thought for a moment. He lowered his hands and studied Yves as he considered things. Finally, he said, “Is it merely leaving The Chameleon Club or are you reticent of all outdoors?”
“I love the out of doors,” Yves said. “I have always adored nature.”
“So, it is London that bothers you, then?”
Yves thought about it for a moment, then said, “Yes,” though without any great certainty.
“Let us venture to test a theory,” Bradford said, standing and offering Yves his hand.
Yves took it, then let himself be led obediently through the dining room to the hall. They walked one room down, to the sitting room that looked out on the open courtyard that stood behind the club. Bradford opened one of the doors with his free hand, then led Yves out into the frosty, dormant garden.
“There,” Bradford said once they’d walked out to the center of the garden, where there stood a fountain that bubbled with life and gaiety in the summer, but that stood cold and still now. “You do not appear to be having a fit out here.”
Yves laughed. “This is still The Chameleon Club.”
“But you are out of doors,” Bradford said.
“I suppose I am,” Yves said.
He glanced up at the grey sky as flurries danced down around them. It felt good to breathe the fresh air, though it was not particularly fresh so deep in the heart of the city. Yves likedfeeling the dried grass and hardened ground under his feet, though. He liked the sight of the birds that swooped into the garden then flew out again at regular intervals. He even liked looking in through the windows at the warm and cozy light of the dining room. The candles that burned in each window made everything feel warm and peaceful.
“You look cold,” Bradford said in a low, sensual voice.
“I am,” Yves said, shivering for more reasons than not wearing a coat.
Bradford stepped close to him. He was still dressed in his greatcoat from the funeral, though he’d left his hat inside. He quickly unbuttoned his coat and wrapped Yves in it as he pulled Yves into an embrace.
Yves sighed and let go of the mountain of tension and depression that his earlier episode had left him with. He slipped his arms around Bradford’s firm body and leaned his head against the man’s shoulder. Nothing had ever felt so wonderful as Bradford’s embrace.
“I think I am as safe in your arms as I am at the club,” he said before he could keep his thoughts to himself.
Bradford laughed gently and not unkindly. “Of course you are, my angel,” he said, then kissed Yves’ cheek.
He did not stop at Yves’ cheek. He kissed the corner of his mouth, and when Yves straightened fully and stared squarely at him, he slanted his mouth over Yves’. Yves sighed as he opened his mouth to explore and let Bradford explore him. It was wonderful to feel so loved and so desired. If he but closed his eyes, he could imagine that Bradford was his and he was Bradford’s not just for a night or a few days, but forever.
Bradford seemed to sense his thoughts. He clasped Yves more tightly to him, deepening their kiss and ravishing his mouth. Every care and worry Yves had melted away into longingand desire. He silently begged Bradford to take him upstairs for a repeat of the night before, no matter how sore he still was.
Bradford ended their kiss suddenly and pulled back to look at Yves, but it was not lust he had in his eyes. It was something far more potent.
“I have an idea,” Bradford said.
“An…idea?”
Bradford’s smile grew. “You have no fear of being outside,” he said as if thinking things through.
