Page 43 of Soul of Discretion

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Simon dozed in and out of consciousness and when he finally opened his eyes, he tried to take a deep breath and winced when his ribs protested. He closed his eyes briefly, counting his blessings. His hospital bed was comfy, the room was warm—stiflingly so—and the covers crisp on his broken and abused body. The best thing about the situation though was the man slumbering next to him. Nick was sprawled in the armchair beside the bed, soft snores emanating out of his parted lips.

A wash of emotion flooded over Simon as he watched the sleeping man. He’d never been happier to see the tough Mountie than when Nick had lifted Simon’s head, saving him from certain death. Then he’d put himself in harm’s way when that pyscho sadist had threatened to come in. Simon had never seen anything like it. Nick had taken charge of the room like an avenging angel. Now that Simon could appreciate the moment without fearing imminent demise, he confessed it had been a sexy sight. Nick’s jaw had clenched, his eyes dark with fury as his strong hands had grasped around a gun—it was a wet dream come true; a fantasy played out in living colour.

“Are you staring at me?” Nick mumbled as he raised his head and cast bleary eyes in Simon’s direction. “It’s kinda creepy, you know.”

Simon huffed in amusement. “I was wondering how the hell anyone sleeps with you with the way you snore. Like a bloody rhinoceros.”

Nick yawned and rubbed his eyes. “That’s all you have to say to me?” His tone was teasing but Simon heard the undercurrent of fatigue and relief.

Simon chuckled weakly. His lips were swollen and sore, his tongue painful where he’d bit it trying not to cry out during his ordeal. “At this minute, my mother is probably organising a garden party in your honour and preparing to have you knighted for saving her firstborn.”

Nick squinted, puzzled. “I thought you were an only child?”

“He is,” came the voice from the doorway. Peter Sinclair entered and glared in Simon’s direction. “His parents are about to become childless though. Because I’m going to fucking kill him myself.”

“Oh shit,” Simon muttered faintly. “Pete, I can explain…”

Peter’s eyes blazed with indignant fury. “I’ll take Jeffries, he said. Don’t worry, Peter, my lad, I’ll be perfectly safe. Then you disappear, you tosser, and I’ve been worried sick—” His voice broke off. “I was about to call the Countess and tell her what her idiot son had gotten himself into when I heard they’d found you alive. So that call didn’t happen.”

Peter loomed over Simon, hands gesticulating wildly. “I should have called her anyway, just so she could ream your arse out.”

“Pete, I’m fine,” Simon said softly, reaching out and taking one of Peter’s hands. His valet stilled, face still tight with worry. “I’m sorry I got bloody kidnapped. But please don’t tell my mother about it.” He grinned faintly. “She’ll spank me, and you know how I hate that.” He winked at Nick. “Well, by my mother’s hands anyway.”

His Mountie gave a huff of laughter at that.

Peter sank down onto the end of the bed, hands trembling. “God, when I heard those bastards had you, I didn’t know what to do. I called Collette and she told me to call your mother, but I’d hoped they’d find you before I told her that her only son had disappeared into the hands of murderous mobsters.”

Peter looked at Nick. “Thanks for rescuing him,” he muttered. “I understand you got the guy who did this to him.” He scowled fiercely. “I hope you kicked his arse from here to Timbuctoo.”

“Actually, he’s dead,” Nick admitted. “You can consider his ass well and duly kicked.”

The three men looked at each other then started sniggering. Simon knew it was relief that made them act so callously—a man was dead, after all—but they needed the levity after the seriousness of what had transpired.

“So, what happens now?” Simon asked after they’d finished their crazy giggling fit. “I need out of here as soon as possible. I still need to see Margaret.”

“I’ve been there already,” Nick shared. “I picked up what she wanted to give to you. I haven’t looked at it though, so we can do that together. Perhaps it might offer some more evidence we can use to put Anthony’s father away. The old man’s going to be mighty pissed his son’s dead. He’ll want payback. The sooner we get him behind bars, the better for us all.”

Simon’s gut churned. “Christ, I hadn’t thought of that.”

There was a sombre silence then Peter broke it. “Simon is still in danger? Margaret too?”

Nick nodded. “Yeah. Margaret has agreed to be taken to a safe house while we do further investigation. In fact, she said something about visiting her sister in Somerset for a while. Apparently, they’re keen for her to stay there. My inspector has already spoken to Scotland Yard and they told him they were liaisoning with the local constabulary to keep an eye on her.”

Simon blew out a sigh of relief. “That’s excellent news. The fewer people we have to worry about here the better.” He frowned. “I wonder what’s so important about the cocaine Anthony wanted so badly to find? I mean, surely, they have more than enough to go around. It can’t have such a huge street value that they’d go to all this trouble to get it.” He shifted uncomfortably, the pain in his ribs getting sharper.

“You okay?” Nick winced as if the pain was his. “Can I get you anything?” He reached out and ran a hand across Simon’s forehead. “You’re a bit warm. I hope you’re not getting a fever.”

The touch of Nick’s hands on him made Simon’s skin tingle, not in arousal—he was too damned sore for that—but with a warm, fuzzy feeling. If he were a cat, he would have purred.

Peter made a small noise and Simon looked over at him. His friend smiled at him affectionately and mouthed, “He’s a keeper.”

Simon tended to agree on that one. His recent ordeal had softened his outlook on his views of emotional distancing from people. Especially Nick.

“I still don’t understand what was so important about those two kilos of coke though,” Simon said tiredly.

Nick leaned forward excitedly. “I have a theory about that. Hear me out.” He ran his fingers across Simon’s and kept them there.