“It’s from a Mateo de Leon, and it saysnobody called tonight, don’t wake me up.”
“Oh.” Sebastian frowned. “Okay, then.”
Wesley tapped the front desk. “If anyone telephones or sends a message, have it sent straight up to my room. Otherwise I am not to be disturbed for any reason.”
“Yes, sir,” the clerk said.
They skipped the elevator and walked up the stairs together. “We still have no word from the others?” Sebastian asked.
“Haven’t the foggiest why not,” said Wesley. “But our train isn’t until three tomorrow. Maybe they’ll be in touch in the morning.”
They walked down the empty hall together as Wesley produced his key from his pocket. “The Plaza apparently has a butler on the suite floor,” he said, as he unlocked the door. “But it also had Sir Ellery and the major in its smoking room, so I’m quite pleased that we’re here.” He held the door open and gestured for Sebastian to go in first.
The suite was on the corner and the drapes were wide-open, framing the streetlights and the traffic flowing to and from Grand Central Station. Wesley locked the door as Sebastian wandered into the parlor, toward the gold-trimmed settee and two wingback chairs set around a low table. The ashtrays were empty, but obviously Wesley wasn’t anything as inane as proud of himself for managing hours without a smoke. It was the bare minimum, truly; he should have been able to quit long ago.
Sebastian’s words from the pier echoed in his mind:Don’t be so hard on yourself. Wesley pushed the memory away. Sebastian was far too kind when it came to him.
His skin was itching even now, hands twitching for his pocket, teeth clenched against the craving for a cigarette between his lips. He wanted something to touch and taste, to occupy his hands and mouth and sate the urges hounding him.
His gaze fell on Sebastian.
“So you served with Major Langford.” Sebastian had stopped by the settee, already undoing his bow tie. “Do you know Sir Ellery quite well too? You said you traveled with him.”
“He’s a baronet I used to see at parties,” Wesley said, “back when I was still willing to occasionally go.”
Sebastian left the untied bow tie loose in his attached collar and slid the jacket off his shoulders. “Are they going to wonder why I was with you?”
OfcourseSebastian was only thinking of Wesley’s reputation. “Langford will, but not for the reasons you’re worried about,” said Wesley. “He’s simply suspicious. As for Sir Ellery, he won’t wonder that either, because we, ah.” He cleared his throat. “We’re also in a club together.”
“You hesitated.” Sebastian draped the jacket over the back of the settee. It left him in just the dress shirt and black waistcoat, which hugged the sleek lines of his body, no jacket blocking the view of trousers fitted to his hips and arse. “You never hesitate. What is the club?”
“One that makes society assume you couldn’t possibly be the kind of man who wants to fuck other fellows.”
“What club isthat?” Sebastian asked, as he got his top two buttons undone.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Is it a sex club?”
“No!”
“Are you sure?”
“How the devil would Inotbe sure of something like that?”
“Well, you have still never explained where your handcuffs came from.” Sebastian bent his arm, efficiently removing first one cuff link, then the other. “And you seem to know an awful lot about things like floggers.”
Wesley raised his eyebrow. “If you have a question, you can always ask,” he said meaningfully.
“I did ask you a question,” Sebastian said innocently, pocketing his cuff links and beginning to roll up his sleeves. “You still haven’t answered.”
Wesley gaze lingered as forearms were bared, the tattoo coming into view. “I am not in a sex club with Sir Ellery.” He leaned his walking stick against the hat stand by the door. “If you must know, it’s a hunting club.”
Sebastian folded his arms.
“Yes, that’s right, we shoot targets and occasionally game together,” Wesley said. “Sir Ellery did a tour of duty himself and is still an excellent shot.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed.
