“Arrangement?Arrangement!”
“Don’t interrupt, and keep your voice down. Yes, our arrangement. We need to return to our… more formal association. You’re my employee and as such you should call me sir—as Kate does. I’m sure he’ll also speculate exactly what we—”
“Oh, I think the fact we share a bloody house might be a fucking clue!”
“I don’t appreciate being sworn—”
“You have got to be kidding. This is a joke, yeah?”
“As I was saying. He’ll undoubtedly speculate, but he’ll have no—”
“Not just a house! A fucking bed! Do you not think the double bed might be a—?”
“If you remember, we weren’t sharing a bed, Benjamin. I remember, even if you don’t.” This was said in a far less reasonable tone.
Ben leant forward, too, their foreheads almost touching. “I wasn’t sharing your fucking bed,Nikolas, because you didn’t actually exist. You’d been dead for ten fucking years, and some impostor had stolen your life. And now that bloody impostor thinks to tell me this?”
Nikolas pursed his lips and made his incredibly annoying gesture of dismissal. “Semantics. And stop swearing at me. You’re entirely missing the point, as usual. I don’t want Gregory to know about us. Is that not clear enough?”
“Oh, trust me, I get that loud and clear. And do you know what? Maybe there won’t be anything for him to suspect in future. No house sharing. No fucking double bed. How does that suit you…sir?”
Nikolas toyed with his phone some more then said sulkily, “Not all that much.”
Ben began to smile. He couldn’t help it. Nikolas glanced up. “Are you laughing at me?”
Ben gave him a pointed look but didn’t bother to explain what he found funny.
Nikolas sighed. “You have to trust me on this, Benjamin. These things aren’t accepted in the world I come from.”
“Being gay you mean.”
Nikolas flinched away from him. “You’re being incredibly obtuse, and I’mnotgay.”
Ben leant even further forward and made his point more forcibly by poking Nikolas on his immaculate new shirt. “I don’t fucking know what obtuse means, but as I’ve had your cock up my arse for the last four years, I reckon it must mean accurate.”
Nikolas got up and walked out, which annoyed Ben intensely as he had no money on him and was stuck with the bill.
When he caught up, Nikolas was standing looking at the bikes in the showroom. They walked together toward the high street, Radulf’s claws clicking on the pavement the only sound between them.
Ben suddenly halted and glanced across at Nikolas. Nikolas stopped, too, his face a mask of stony resolve. “You’re scared—of Gregory. This is personal, isn’t it? You’re scared what he’s going to think about you. You want him to respect you. Oh, my God, you want him tolikeyou!”
“Good grief. It’s like being psychoanalysed by the dog.”
“You want him to still see you as the fearsome, powerful Aleksey Primakov, despite the fact you killedhimoff ten years ago. You want to have your bloody cake and eat it.”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t eat cake. Do something useful and more suited to your intelligence and find a cab.”
“You’re ashamed. Of us. Ofme.”
“Right at this minute I am, yes, because you’re making a scene. A cab?”
Ben flagged down the next passing taxi, and they climbed in, sitting in angry silence, except for Nikolas directing the driver to The Connaught. When they reached their room, Nikolas tipped the porter and they were alone again. Ben was trying to work out the best way to get to his lock-up and retrieve some of his cash so he could just—what?
He felt a hand on his arm and jerked away. Nikolas caught him again, more forcibly. “I’m sorry.” An apology from Nikolas was a very rare thing. Nikolas put a hand against Ben’s cheek, rubbing his thumb thoughtfully over his cheekbone. Suddenly, he exclaimed, “Fuck,” and pulled Ben into a tight hug. He turned his face into Ben’s neck. “When did you get so clever, Benjamin Rider?”
Ben knew that if he didn’t pull away, he would be truly lost. But as he was entirely happy to be entirely lost in Nikolas, he made no attempt to leave the strong arms at all. Sometimes, he wondered if he was so far gone on Nikolas that he’d let him kill him one day. He put his hand into the newly shorn hair and rubbed it up the wrong way, loving the feel of it under his palm. Nikolas held him off a little way, studying him.
“I think I’m going to do something very uncharacteristic and tell you something before you force it out of me with your annoying and incessant questioning.” It was hard for Ben to keep up the pretence of being angry with a hand tucked into his waistband to hold him prisoner and a thumb idly stroking his belly. “AlekseyPrimakovnever existed, Ben. I made him up and acted him out just as I made up all the other people I’ve been in my life. I’ve played so many roles now that I’m not entirely sure who I am any more. Do you understand? When we meet Gregory, he’ll expect to see the Aleksey Primakov he knew only too well. So, where do I find him? You tell me, because I actually have no idea. Aleksey Primakov was birthed and fed and nurtured on pain and betrayal—his and other’s. How do I find him if I don’t start with pain and betrayal again?”
