Aiden was distracted at first, his gaze raking over Nate’s face, like he was cataloguing features.
What was he looking at? Nate grinned. “Did you finally manage to ditch the dance card?”
Aiden’s eyes widened, a blush spreading across his face, then he nodded. “Payton beat me tonight though. And my friend Bannon wins for the most original card extermination this time. He accidentally dropped his in the punch bowl.”
Nate chuckled. “Is it a contest?”
“It’s ongoing. We judge on promptness and originality of destruction.
Usually, I’m the first one to lose my card. Payton is generally the most original.”
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Pulling the younger man a bit closer than entirely proper, Nate squeezed Aiden’s waist where his hand rested and used his thumb to caress Aiden’s palm. He could feel the heat of Aiden’s body, smell him.
The scent was nice, like bayberry, one of Nate’s favorite scents. Aiden’s ebony curls moved a little on every turn, tempting Nate to run his fingers through the locks. Instead he tried to concentrate on the conversation.
“What do the winners get?”
“The satisfaction of knowing they won.”
The man was charming and competitive…not a bad quality to have.
His innocence was obvious and extremely appealing, making Nate long to corrupt him.
Mirroring Nate’s steps, Aiden never faltered. He grinned, his eyes gleaming. The younger man’s face grew flushed with excitement, then he chuckled, throwing his head back a bit. “Thank you for catching my dance card.”
Nate laughed back, truly enjoying himself. “You’re very welcome. You don’t dance much, do you?”
Aiden shook his head, his gray eyes wide. “Not unless I’m made to, and then my mind is usually on something else.”
“Oh? And what is your mind usually on?”
“My art.” He bit his lip and gave Nate another one of those pointed stares. “I’m an artist.”
“That explains the computers. They’re sketchscreens?”
Aiden bobbed his head.
It made sense. Nate had noticed him watching things closely, as if in a daze. “What do you draw?”
“A little of everything. Still lifes, portraits, landscapes. Anything possible. I want to be good at all of it.”
Something about the way he said it, the zest, made Nate realize how important it was to him. Nate would be willing to bet Aiden was already very adept at it. “I’d love to see some of your work.”
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Aiden relaxed again, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “You would?”
Nate nodded and twirled them around. “I would. I’ve always enjoyed art. I try and visit museums when I go to a new planet. I can’t draw a lick, even with the help of a computer, but I like to look. My mother loved the arts, painting, music, acting, but especially paintings and printed media.” It was one of the few things Nate held onto from his youth.
The smile Aiden gave him was absolutely radiant.
Nate smiled back and before he knew it, they were staring at one another, caught in the magic of the waltz as they danced around the ballroom. It was truly one of the strangest moments of Nate’s life.
The song came to an end but they barely noticed.
Nate gazed into the upturned face right below his own. The man had such a beautiful mouth. Dipping forward, Nate licked his lips.
Aiden tilted his head, his eyes closing.
Nate closed his own eyes, inches away from Aiden’s lips.
“Aiden!”
They jumped apart, the spell broken.
Fuck.
Nate dashed a quick look around to see if they’d been noticed standing in the middle of the dance floor making eyes at each other.
The young blond man Nate had seen talking to Aiden earlier rushed toward them, stealing peeks behind him. Everyone else seemed to be leaving the room, oblivious to them.
When the young man stopped in front of them, he bowed.
Aiden motioned to him. “Lord Deverell, this is Lord Rupert. Rupert, Lord Deverell.”
Rupert bobbed his head. “Pleasure to meet you, Lord Deverell.”
Turning his attention to Aiden, Rupert snagged Aiden’s free arm and started pulling. “You have to come to dinner with me. My sire is trying to get Lord Cromley to escort me into the dining room.”
Aiden glanced at Nate, wide-eyed. “But—”
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Rupert looked at Nate, seeming to realize how rude he’d been. He gave a dip of his head. “Lord Deverell?”
Nate tipped his head. “Lord Rupert?”
“Might I borrow my friend?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to say no. He didn’t want to give up Aiden’s attention, which was rather disturbing. “Of course.” He let go of Aiden’s slender hand reluctantly.
Rupert beamed at him. “Thank you.”
Watching Nate the whole way, Aiden was dragged off the dance floor by his friend.
Nate stood there for several seconds feeling like he’d been hit upside the head.
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My Fair Captain
They left the ball at one a.m.—which was relatively early as far as balls went—but Nate was glad. It may be important for him to look like a guest to the staff, but he wanted to get a head start on the investigation.
Raleigh had given him the pass code to get into Jeffers’ memory and Nate had every intention of using it. But first he went to his room to check on Trouble. With any luck the kid would have gotten some information from the servants.
When he entered his room, his son was sprawled out on his bed on top of the covers snoring. The pest wore a pair of flowered pajamas and the ridiculous white, fluffy bunny rabbit slippers he’d bought last year at one of the ports they’d visited.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he nudged Trouble. “Trouble, wake up.”
The pale, freckled nose wrinkled and he snuffled before opening his eyes. “Huh?” He blinked several times and sat up, his blond curls sticking out at different angles. He yawned, and a goofy, lazy grin slid into place. “Did you get lucky?”
Nate groaned. The kid had a one-track mind. “No, I did not get lucky.
What are you doing in this getup?” Nate motioned to the flannel pjs. “I thought you were given sleep shirts.”
Trouble snorted. “No way am I wearing a gown. Gowns are for girls.”
Nate closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, a smile threatening. Trouble was wearing baby blue flannel adorned by little pink and yellow flowers, with floppy-eared bunnies on his feet, yet he was
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worried about looking feminine. “What are you doing in here? You are supposed to be sleeping in the room over there.” Nate pointed to the small room adjoining his.
“I was waiting on you. Besides, that bed isn’t very comfy and the room is tiny.”
Ignoring the gripe he’d heard at least three times since Trouble saw the room this afternoon, Nate stood and went to the nightstand on the other side of the bed. There was a decanter of scotch and two tumblers.
Thank Galaxy.
He poured himself a drink. “Did you learn anything?”
“Nah, not really. Can I have one?”
“No. And what do you mean not really? If you didn’t learn anything, why were you waiting up for me?”
Trouble eyed the glass of liquor and frowned. “You’re no fun, you know that?”
“Yes.” Nate made a “continue” motion with his hand.
Trouble sighed. “I was waiting to see what you’d learned.”
“Not a lot.” Crossing to the window, he peered out into the garden.
The way the moonlight fell over the ivy-covered faux Greek ruins was picturesque. A sudden vision of Aiden lying out on the grass in the center of the fallen columns flashed across his mind. Damned, if that wasn’t a pretty picture. His prick threatened to harden. Nate took a drink. He had to get the man out of his mind. Maybe learning more about him would douse Nate’s interest. It sure couldn’t peak it any more, he could hope anyway. “Have you heard anything at all about the princes?” Nate turned his head from the window.
“Oh, I’ve heard a lot about their studlinesses.” The pest waggled his eyebrows.
Nate quickly downed the rest of his scotch. Something told him he was going to need it to get through the conversation without choking the shit out of Trouble.
“What do you want to know? There are five of them, all dark-headed, all gorgeous and available. But every last one of them is a virgin.”
Shaking his head, Trouble made tsking sounds.
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“Trouble…” he warned.
“Whaaat?” He held up his hands and smiled. “I’m just saying… Come on, even you have to admit it’s a shame. There is some prime male flesh there, all of age and all unconquered. It should be a crime.”
It should, damn it.
Crossing the room, Nate poured himself another drink.
“Okay, okay. The staff has nicknames for them. Rexley, the oldest, they call him Lord Responsible. He’s a bit of a stick in the mud. Great ass though and he—”
“Jeremy.”
Trouble groaned. “There is Payton, his nickname is Lord Plague. He’s a little too brainy for his own good and the absolute plague of the staff because of it.”
“How so?”
“Apparently, he’s the one responsible for shutting the computer down. And he is always making messes doing experiments and stuff.
He’s a computer genius.” Trouble hopped off the bed, went to the washstand and poured himself a glass of water. “You sure I can’t have scotch instead? All right, all right. Stop glowering at me.” Taking a drink, he set the glass back and padded to the bed, perching himself between the large end posts. “Tarren is the youngest—he’s known as Lord Terror.
Which is pretty self-explanatory. Personally speaking, he seems like a lot of fun. He likes to hunt and has a lot of dogs. And from the looks of him in those tight pants…hung like a— Oh and speaking of horses, Colton is the horseman. His nickname is Lord Calamity, again it’s pretty obvious why, but boy does he have some great thighs. Muscular and—”
“What about Aiden?” If Nate sounded a little anxious, Jeremy didn’t seem to notice.
“Lord Audacious. He sort of has his head in the clouds. He’s an artist and a rather gifted one if the rumors are correct. Some of the maids and footmen were going on about a portrait he did of the king’s consort. The whole staff has a bit of a crush on Raleigh. And who can blame them.
The man is gorgeous. Lord Aiden looks a lot like him. Don’t you think?”
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Nate started to inform Trouble that Aiden was much more attractive, but grunted instead. Who knew what his son would do if he thought Nate had a thing for Aiden. It didn’t bare thinking on. “What else? Do you know anything about Payton shutting Jeffers off?”
“Nah, just that Tarren had something on him and blackmailed him into doing it.”
Interesting.
“See if you can find out what he used to blackmail him with. Anything else?”
Trouble shook his head and yawned, lying back on the bed. “Nope, other than daily operation stuff. All the servants were here the day the guns disappeared, but no one saw anything unusual.”
“Figures. All right, I’m going downstairs. Go to bed.”
“Okay.” Trouble scooted to the middle of the bed and started plumping pillows.
“Your bed.”
Groaning and mumbling, Trouble got off the bed and headed toward the valet’s room. “You should have to sleep in here, Hawk. You’re the one who makes sure we’re both dressed right, not me.” He shut the door, still grumbling about how small and uncomfortable the bed was.
Nate made a mental note to see about getting the pest a softer bed.
It was quiet downstairs, all the servants having gone to bed, which suited Nate fine. He didn’t want to be bothered. Slipping into the study, he went to the desk. “Jeffers?”
“Yes, Lord Deverell?”
“Please secure the room.”
“Yes, sir. The room is secured. You will be notified if anyone approaches it.”
Nate sat in the chair behind the desk, stretching.
What a night.
It had been forever since he’d gone to a ball. Oddly, he’d enjoyed it. He’d expected this entire ordeal to be nothing but a pain in the ass, but he was finding it rather refreshing. As much as he hated to admit it, given the circumstances of him leaving, he missed home. He missed his father
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and Jared, he even missed the attention that came from being the Duke of Hawthorne’s heir. As strange as Regelence’s customs were, it was too bad he hadn’t been born
here
. His sex life would have suffered, but he’d still be an earl and he’d still have his family. If only Englor had been more open-minded and accepted all types of relationships, not just the norm. Sighing, he ran his hands over his face. It didn’t matter. That wasn’t his life. He was an IN captain and he was here on a mission.
Scooting back from the desk, he looked for a button to bring up the access panel to the house computer. There had to be one, because there was a hairline seam in the top of the desk. Ah, there on the inside of the opening. Nate pushed the button, and a screen came up. Where was the keypad? The computer was voice controlled, but he’d need a keypad and thumb scanner to access it. “Jeffers, where is the keypad?”
“Top left-hand drawer, milord.”
He opened the drawer, punched in the numbers Raleigh had given him and pressed his thumb to the scanner. Thankfully, his print had been added to the system earlier.
Jeffers acknowledged him as soon as he set his thumb down.
“Welcome, sir. What can I help you with?”
Nate shut the drawer and got comfortable. “Jeffers, please show me the video you have of the basement right before you were taken offline and right after you were brought back online.”
A video of an empty corridor flashed onto the screen. It looked like an ordinary hallway with mahogany wainscoting, pale wallpaper above and sconces interspaced throughout. Except for the color of the wallpaper it could have been the hallway outside of Nate’s room, but there were only two other doors, one to the left and one at the end.
“Jeffers, where is the room with the weapons in relation to this shot?”