Nikolas found a tiny ounce of strength more and forced out.“No.Anything but.Ignore me.”
“I can’t believe I suggested that.We’ll tell her.”He raised his eyes beseechingly.“If she loves me, she’ll want to help.Even if she gets hurt?I wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone who wasn’t like that.I just know I wouldn’t.”
Nikolas looked down to where Ben still had hold of his wrist.At the same time, Ben did too.It was too noticeable not to see immediately—obvious.Ben’s voice hitched.“We have matching scars.”He ran his finger not over his, but over Nikolas’s, a gentle trail with a slightly chewed nail.Nikolas caught the finger.Ben kept his eyes lowered, watching their joined hands.
When Ben didn’t say more, or ask about the scars, which he’d been expecting, Nikolas asked evenly, “Will you give me a few days to think about all this?Please.”
Ben kept his head down and just nodded.He extricated their hands and straightened.“I think…I’m really tired now.Do you mind…?”He waved in the direction of his room and backed away a few paces.With a last glance at the scar on Nikolas’s wrist, Ben left the kitchen.
* * *
Chapter Seventeen
Sitting on the unfamiliar bed in the unfamiliar room, Ben thought about the man who had, for one startling, terrifying moment, become a great deal more familiar.For one instant, studying the scar upon his boss’s wrist, Ben had felt an intensity of emotion toward the man that had seized his throat to silence, made his heart pound fast and nervous in his chest.Everything was fear and darkness, chaos, but in that maelstrom he’d seen Sir Nikolas Mikkelsen like a beacon, a blond flash of power in the night.Safety.Nikolas Mikkelsen was shelter.Ben, tossed on a storm of terrifying confusion and doubt, desperately wanted that safe harbour.
He realized he was rubbing his scar.
He looked at the white bed and then around the large, pale room and stood uncertainly.
The kitchen was empty.
He heard an odd noise and followed the sound.
Nikolas Mikkelsen was swimming furious lengths in the blue-glass swim lane.Ben sank down on the walkway, wrapping his arms around his knees.Now he understood the man’s physique—the broad, powerful shoulders, which tapered to such a slim waist.He was doing butterfly strokes, barely rippling the surface of the blue water as his vast shoulders rose, bringing around powerful arms, cutting the water relentlessly.
When he reached the far end of one length, he propelled himself from the water and reached down to a towel, rubbing his face and hair as he came up to Ben.He stood over him, cool drops landing on Ben’s upturned face.Ben rose hesitantly to his feet.“I couldn’t stay in that room.It makes it worse somehow.”His eyes travelled over Nikolas’s scarred, powerful body.His boss tolerated the scrutiny then turned toward his own suite of rooms at the far end of the swim lane.He paused and Ben understood he was supposed to accompany him.They entered the darkened bedroom together.“Do I swim in there?”
Nikolas turned, a wry smile on his face.“You fell in once when you were drunk and pissed in it.I had to have it drained and refilled.”
Ben’s jaw dropped.“Oh, fuck.Sorry.”
Nikolas shrugged.“You’ve done worse.”
“And you still keep me on?”
“Yes.I still keep you on.”
“I must be a very good bodyguard.”
“Oh, I would say so, yes.You’ve cared for my body very well for years.You’re staring at me, Benjamin.”
Ben immediately jerked his eyes away.“I was looking at your scars.Are those cigarette burns?”
“Yes.”
“That’s not good.”
“No.I’ve never told you how I got them.”
Ben frowned.“Why would you have done?”
Nikolas smiled faintly.“We talk about a lot of things.”
“Oh.”He suddenly tipped his head to one side.“I think that’s what I was feeling in my room just now—I was missing…talking to you.”
“Missing…me?”
Ben heard the difference in these two but didn’t know how to interpret it so he just nodded.Then he shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and hunched his shoulders.“I’m not much of a talker normally.”
