“Mr. Archer,” Liam said in greeting, not fighting the stupidly happy smile that came to his face.
“Colonel Wessex,” Oliver replied with a slow, teasing smile of his own.
“What are you doing here?”
“I asked my father to secure me an invitation. The queen was kind enough to oblige.”
Liam had a suspicious inkling that the last-minute request for him to join the garden party had been for this reason, but he wasn’t going to track down his grandmother and ask. Liam’s hand twitched with the need to touch Oliver, but he knew if he so much as shook Oliver’s hand, he would never let him go.
“You could’ve rung me,” Liam said.
“I wasn’t sure I’d get the green light to come. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“You could never disappoint me.” Liam was about to disappoint everyone else at the garden party by leaving early, though. “Come on. Let’s head into the palace.”
“Are you sure? Don’t you have rounds to make?”
“Oliver,” Liam said, looking him in the eye. “I’m leaving, and you’re coming with me.”
The smile that curved Oliver’s mouth this time was small but so sweet that Liam cursed the fact they were still outside with people all around them.
“All right.”
Extracting himself from the garden party without looking like he was leaving for an emergency meant Liam and Oliver had to keep to a sedate pace as they made their way back to the palace. Liam had to stop a few times to greet people, but eventually, he managed a clean escape with the help of his grandmother when they crossed paths with the queen on the last stretch to freedom. His grandmother smiled at Liam as they approached, with Oliver pausing to respectfully doff his hat and bow his head to her.
“I’ll make your excuses, my dear,” Mary said lightly. “And Mr. Archer?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I’m glad you are here.”
The words could be taken so many different ways, but Liam took them the only way they mattered. Oliver nodded slowly at the queen. “Thank you.”
“Off with you both now.”
Never one to disobey the queen when it mattered, Liam led Oliver to the palace, free of his afternoon duties. Security allowed them inside, and Liam was grateful for the air-conditioning. None of the guests were allowed entrance to the palace proper, and the only people nearby were a handful of servants rushing to and fro.
“Did you want to talk here?” Oliver asked.
Liam turned to face Oliver, giving himself time to drag his gaze up and down Oliver’s well-dressed form before meeting his eyes. “No. I’d rather take you home.”
Oliver bit his lip, a faint flush rising on his cheeks. “I won’t say no to that. Yours?”
“I don’t want to deal with the tourists congregating around Kensington Palace.”
“Mine, then. I haven’t been back for months, though. It might be a bit unclean.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
“I doubt I have any food.” Oliver paused and made a face. “Which might be a problem because I am always so bloody hungry these days.”
Liam threw back his head and laughed. “Yes, I know how that is.”
He remembered the first half a year after becoming a metahuman and how it seemed he could never get enough to eat, always burning through so many calories until the nutritionists and doctors at the UMG got him sorted.
“We’ll order in,” Liam promised. “From whatever restaurant you like.”
With that decided, Liam led Oliver to where he’d parked his car in the courtyard. He still didn’t reach for Oliver, who didn’t take it as a slight in any way. Not even when they were in the car and driving off, the quiet between them heavy with a tension that Liam felt in his cock.
