“Don’t be like that,” Cassian said as James began to unlock the door to the swimming bath.
“Don’t be like what?”
“Don’t be so critical of yourself.”
Cassian hoped that James might apologize for speaking about himself in such a negative manner, but instead, the man only pulled the door open and continued inside. Irritation flooded Cassian’s veins as he followed.
After James flicked on the lights, Cassian caught the man’s sleeve, forcing him to come to a stop.
“I’m not an easy man to please, nor am I an easy man to impress. And you, James Thomas Morrow, have accomplished both of those things in our short time together. Remember that.”
James’s cheeks became pink, but he still didn’t reply.
Cassian thought that perhaps he should prompt him.
“Don’t be so critical of yourself, James.” He crooked an eyebrow. “Do you understand?”
After a brief pause, James nodded a little, and Cassian could have sworn that he saw the faintest hint of a smile pulling at the man’s lips. Warmth swirled in Cassian’s chest—an intense rush of fondness and care. He released his hold of James’s sleeve but then had to ball his hands into fists to keep himself from reaching out and stroking James’s face in the same manner that he had earlier.
Something about James Thomas Morrow made Cassian want to care for him, to caress him and hold him and make him see how extraordinary he was. Especially now, especially since James had been so wonderful and so clever, thinking of the perfect surprise like this. James ought to have been rewarded for his service somehow. Normally, if Cassian thought that an employee of his ought to be commended for their service, he would have simply paid the person extra for it. But something inside him—some inkling deep in Cassian’s soul—whispered that, for once, money alone could never satisfy this sudden need he had to thank James for his service, no matter how much of it he might offer.
Cassian forced himself to ignore it.
He and James continued to look at each other for a while in silence, the only sound the water sloshing back and forth in the pool. Soon, James rocked back on his heels.
“So, maybe we should swim?” he suggested.
“Did you find some bathing suits for us to wear?” Cassian asked.
“Unfortunately, no.” James paused and rolled his perfectly plump bottom lip between his teeth. “But maybe we could swim in our pants?”
Cassian’s eyebrows shot up. “You want us to swim in our pants?”
“Or, uhm, whatever you callthem in the States. Drawers?”
“Ah.”
“I mean, I think my pants are similar, length-wise, to the bathing suit you wore last time. I know it’s not very... I mean, I know it’s not exactly fitting for a respectable man like yourself, but... well...”
Cassian laughed lightly. Good thing he was still a little intoxicated.
“Yes, James, that sounds fine. I’ll change before bed later anyway. Using a couple of pieces of clothing as swimwear won’t impact me negatively in the least.”
“Oh. Good. Great.” James paused and raked a hand through his hair. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, then.”
He walked off and headed for the changing stalls.
Over the next five or so minutes, both of them removed most of their clothing in their separate stalls. Cassian emerged from his first, feeling strangely naked in his coat-cut undershirt and knee-length “pants” (as James had called them).
Surprisingly, though, the vulnerability of it excited him rather than making him feel unsettled, and the longer that he stood there lingering by the pool, the faster his heart began to race. When he and James were last at the swimming bath together, Cassian had really liked how James had looked at him in his bathing suit. And now he couldn’t help but be eager to see how James might like him in these more intimate pieces of clothing, too.
Cassian had become lost in a bit of self-admiration—smoothing out the fabric of his shirt while imagining James’s reaction to seeing him in it—by the time James opened his stall. When he did, Cassian looked over just as James emerged, and the moment that Cassian laid eyes on the steward, his heart about stopped.
Because James Thomas Morrow looked nothing short of stunning.
He was wearing more or less the exact the same thing that Cassian was, except that the fabric of James’s clothing had blue stripes, rather than being one solid color. And even though neither the top nor the bottom piece was particularly formfitting, Cassian could still make out James’s physique in them. And it was, as he’d expected, exquisite.
James’s face flushed as Cassian continued to stare, mesmerized.
