He lifted a hand to indicate he understood and that he surrendered, and hurried away before she added even more conditions to the rest of his evening.
He pushed the terrace doors open and stepped into the cool night air with a sigh. He shut the doors behind him and walked to the edge of the precipice where he fisted his hands against the edge of the stone wall and leaned there, his head bent.
“I wouldn’t recommend jumping.”
He lifted his head at the voice that came from behind him. Aaron. Slowly, he turned.
“I wouldn’t do something so foolish,” he said, keeping his tone as neutral as he could when Aaron came out of the shadows, and Griffin’s heart leapt.
God, but Aaron was handsome. Ridiculously handsome. He had dark blond hair and a neatly trimmed beard—Griffin had wondered over and over what it would feel like brushing over bare skin. Aaron also had dark eyes that often spoke of deep sadness. Deep loss, though Griffin had never had the nerve to talk to him about it. They never spoke of anything more intimate than the weather.
Aaron’s doing.
“I thought youlovedto dance,” Griffin said, flicking his head toward the ballroom.
Aaron shook his head. “I just pretend better than you do.”
“Well, we are both practiced enough at it,” Griffin mumbled as he forced himself to look over the garden again. “Pretending, not dancing.”
Aaron surprised him by stepping up beside him and placing his own hands on the wall. If Griffin leaned his little finger out, he could brush it over Aaron’s.
“Still, I have a good many years on you. You must be a decade younger than I am,” Aaron said.
That was true. Griffin knew Aaron was older than Letty, but who gave a damn about that? If Griffin were a woman no one would blink at the ten years separating them.
Griffin shrugged. “I suppose I never thought of our age difference. It isn’t age that makes it complicated between us, is it?”
Beside him, Aaron sucked in a great breath before he pivoted to face Griffin. Griffin did the same, his heart suddenly pounding. They were standing very close. So close that it would hardly take a thing to touch him.
“Griffin,” Aaron said softly, his voice rough.
Griffin jolted. Aaron always referred to him as Mr. Merrick. Now his given name rolled off the other man’s tongue, as intimate as a caress. But Aaron was going to reject him. Griffin could see it. He wasn’t ready for it.
“What say we take a brief turn about the garden?” he suggested, taking a step back. “To help me avoid my fate.”
Aaron opened and shut his mouth, as if trying to formulate a response, then sighed. “What fate is that?”
“My mother has negotiated that I dance three times tonight, none of them with my married friends or family. So the longer you help me stay out here, the more you save me.”
Aaron’s pupils dilated in the moonlight. “You want me to save you?”
Griffin swallowed hard. “I would owe you a favor.”
A slow smile spread over Aaron’s face, and then he nodded. “I-I suppose there would be no harm in a walk. Lead the way.”
Griffin stepped out and moved toward the set of stone steps on the opposite side of the terrace. Aaron walked at his side, quiet in the still night air. Griffin watched him with a few furtive glances. Aaron was very graceful. There was a strength and a power to him, yes, but it was a lithe and lean strength. Like he could dance his movements and no one would dare question it.
They maneuvered their way through the dark pathways of the garden, illuminated only be a few lamps. The sounds of the party slowly faded away in the distance and finally silenced entirely as they reached a gazebo far off from the house. During the daytime, it offered a perfect overlook to the lake. At night Griffin could imagine its cushioned seats had provided many a private escape for a pair of lovers.
He shuddered as they entered the little building. Aaron edged away from him, taking a seat and refusing to look at him.
“Why don’t we ever speak about seeing each other in London?” Griffin asked.
He hadn’t intended to say those words and he fought a desperate urge to clap a hand over his mouth and wish them back.
Slowly Aaron lifted his gaze to his. “Because no good will come of it,” he whispered.
Griffin wrinkled a brow. “How is that possible? You and I already know each other. That we share such urges is a binding factor, whether we speak a syllable about it or not. At least if we could discuss it I wouldn’t feel so…”
