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.”
