A Lover of Men (5 page)

It worked, if only momentarily. The fellow cursed, and the sound of a knife ripping fabric immediately followed.

“Damn it all, man, that’s my good coat!” Rafe stepped into the next thrust, grabbing the man’s arm and spinning, pushing out with his hip to send the figure staggering away. The fact that the man smelled of expensive tobacco rather than rotted teeth and filth furthered the idea that this was no average footpad.

This man was after Rafe specifically.

Discretion really was the better part of valor this evening, so Rafe turned about to flee, which was when he came face to face with another assailant, naturally. This one was more what he would expect for this time of night in London—large and lazy, with fetid breath. He bore a cudgel, and he managed a stunning blow to Rafe’s upraised arm, causing his hand to go numb.

He grunted, then stepped up and kicked the big one right in the privates, swinging his knee in a short, vicious arc.

A high-pitched whine sounded, the man sagging toward the ground, and Rafe spun, ducking the whoosh of the knife over his head from the other bastard. They were a determined pair, weren’t they?

He pushed past the one with the knife, intent on running for his life, when another man appeared out of the darkness. Really, what on earth was this about?

“You there! What do you think you’re about?”

Rafe smiled, relieved. Tall, broad, and forceful. Phineas. Rafe stepped aside and let his former soldier charge past him.

Phineas drove right into the man with the knife, shoulder against the man’s chest. The knife flew one way, the attacker the other, and the man fell backwards over his larger companion.

Phineas bent to grab the knife, the wicked blade evident in the light shining dully from the open window and the lit lamp at the far end of the street.

The man who had wielded the knife jumped to his feet, then grabbed his companion, yanking him toward the dark garden alley that ran along the side of the house. When Phineas made to follow, Rafe grabbed his arm.

“There will be nothing to identify them and I believe we have awakened the master of the house there. Let’s move on.”

Phineas stared at him a moment, then nodded shortly. “To mine, then. Are you injured?”

“No. At least I think not. My coat is rather the worse for wear.”

“Mmm.” Phineas peered into the darkness. “You were lollygagging, it seems. Must have presented what looked to be an easy target.”

Rafe tugged Phineas toward the safety of home. “That was no footpad. Oh, the stupid one was a hired criminal, no doubt, but the other was dressed finely and smelled of tobacco. Good tobacco and coffee.”

“Did he? Well, now. I wonder what you did to upset someone.”

Rafe snorted. Knowing his life, he’d upset more than one someone recently. He kept a careful eye out until they slipped inside Phineas’ front door, locking it carefully behind him.

An older man in shirtsleeves met them just inside the drawing room, eyebrows raised. “Are you quite all right, Sir Phineas?”

“I think so, Gaines. I believe we need a bath drawn for Mr. Gaudi. He’s had quite a fright. Set upon by footpads, he was.”

Alarm filled Gaines’ expression. “Shall I summon anyone? A doctor or such?”

“No, no. I would just like to soak away the bruises.”

“Something to eat and drink, as well, Gaines,” Phineas said. “In my rooms. Come, Rafe, we’ll get a brandy on the way up.”

“That sounds most congenial,” Rafe murmured. No matter how accustomed one was to violence, the rush of it still made one’s hands shake afterward. He felt at once alive in every nerve and exhausted. Rafe opened and closed his hand, still somewhat numb from the cudgel blow.

“What can you tell me about them?” Phineas asked.

“The men who attacked me?” Rafe closed his eyes and paused in the hall. “The first was my height, maybe a bit taller. Lean and wickedly strong. He smelled expensive. The second was tall, heavy, perhaps seventeen stone. He was soft around the middle, clearly used to using his bulk not speed. He had a cudgel and rotting teeth. I saw neither face clearly.”

“Very precise.” Phineas returned to him, pressing a snifter into Rafe’s hands. “I approve. Upstairs with you so we can make sure you’re uninjured. You have holes in your tailcoat.”

“Do I?” Rafe peered at his arms. “The bruises will be worse, I imagine.”

“Well, come along.” The portrait of efficiency, Phineas led him upstairs, strong thighs and buttocks moving enticingly under his trousers.

Rafe followed that stunning backside, humming deep in his throat.
Que bonito.

“Are you hurting?” Phineas asked, frowning over one shoulder.

“Not in the way you mean.” Rafe was worried he’d begin to ache soon, the way his cock was taking an interest.

“Hmm.” Phineas stepped aside to let past a footman bearing hot water. “Well, you’ll feel better as soon as you’ve had a soak.”

They finally gained the bedchamber, and Rafe looked about, curious to see what he could learn of Phineas. A sitting room held a comfortable chair and a footrest, as well as a campaign desk strewn with papers and an inkwell. Wax seals marched in a neat row across the back of the desk, various colors indicating different occasions. A letter writer, then. Conscientious. Sentimental, perhaps.

A pipe lay in a bowl on the side table, and a pair of slippers lay lined up under the table legs. Neat. Habitual. Interesting.

“I can hear you thinking. Stop it.” Phineas smiled for him, and another round of hot water appeared. “Come on. You can use my dressing gown until the tub is full.”

The copper tub sat in splendid isolation in the middle of the bed chamber floor. Rinse water had already been deposited on the hearth, which burned with a bright new fire. Such efficient servants.

“Your butler. He was your aide de camp?” Rafe asked.

“More my valet, but yes. He accompanied me to war. He’s a good man. Solid.”

“Clearly he runs a tight ship.”

Phineas laughed. “Mixing your metaphors there.”

“I suppose so. Be my valet?” The damned tailcoats so popular now were cursed hard to get in and out of alone.

Phineas stepped close to him without comment, helping remove his coat and waistcoat. The slash on his upper torso had drawn some measure of blood, which sent another sharp spurt of anger through him and he slipped out of his shirt, studying it with dismay.

“Damn it all, this shirt cost a pretty penny.”

“It’s worth far less than your life,” Phineas said, his tone strangled.

Rafe turned to stare. “You hardly know me.”

Phineas stared right back. “You’re a better man than you pretend, I think.”

“Yes, well, I think it’s no coincidence that has someone besetting me when I leave Lelia August’s home. Someone is watching her.”

“I agree.” Phineas’ scowl deepened. “My God, look at your arm.”

Rafe glanced down. A panorama of bruises was popping up where the cudgel had bashed him. Still, feeling had returned to his hand, so he was pleased in the main.

“It will heal.” Rafe unbuttoned his placket, then bent to tug at his boots. “Really, why are these blasted things so stiff?”

“Sit. I’ll help.”

Rafe cast about, finding a chair tucked off to one side of the tub. He sat, then raised one foot.

Phineas came to him while yet more water arrived, carried by the footman. Strong hands grasped his boot, and Phineas tugged, grunting when Rafe’s boot popped off. They repeated the process on the other side, and Rafe turned to the footman.

“That’s enough water, I think. Thank you.”

The young man looked to Phineas, who nodded. “Thank you, Will.”

Will disappeared, so Rafe stood and stripped out of his trousers. The tiny touches Phineas had afforded him had aroused his interest, and his cock rose half-hard, ready for any encouragement.

Phineas cleared his throat, then turned his back. “I suppose I ought to send a message to Lelia to warn her to be on her guard.”

“Not yet,” Rafe countered. “So far they’ve contained their attacks to public places, and honestly, I think they were shooting at you in the park. They want any competition out of the way.”

“Do you think so?” Phineas snuck a glance over one shoulder, and Rafe smiled.

“I do. Now, come and wash my back.”

“Certainly not,” Phineas said after a loud sniff.

“I cannot reach with my injured arm,” Rafe complained. “I cannot see it, either. What if the knife did more damage there?”“Damn you.” Phineas came to him, kneeling behind the tub. “I see no indication of injury.”

“Only sweat, hmm? I did fight rather hard. Scrub.”

“Oh, blast and damn.” Phineas took the sponge from his hand and scrubbed efficiently. “You are determined to seduce me, aren’t you?”

Was he? Oh, yes. “Is it working?”

“Shut up.” Phineas reached about to scrub his chest. “You do remember I’m engaged.”

“Mmm.” The sponge scraped over his nipples, and Rafe sat up straighter, his cock rising to full hardness. “She’s a jealous one, too. For someone not interested in the marriage bed. I like her.”

“I do, too.” Phineas sat back, sighing. “What a tangle.”

“It doesn’t need to be complicated, Phineas.” Rafe turned to peer over one shoulder. “It can be as simple as us taking a bath together.”

“There’s no way we’ll both fit in that tub.” Lines crinkled up around Phineas’ green eyes, which gleamed with humor.

“We will if I sit on you.”

“You tempt me beyond reason,” Phineas said, raising his hands to begin unbuttoning his shirt.

“Good.” Water sloshed when Rafe rose to his knees so he might turn about and help Phineas remove his shirt. He slid his hands over the bare skin of Phineas’ chest, then grabbed the wide shoulders to draw Phineas to him for a kiss.

The world froze for a few long seconds. Then Phineas moaned and took Rafe’s mouth with a force he’d never experienced, lips pressing against his, tongue pushing inside to plunder.

Rafe found himself clinging to Phineas, his cock pressed against the lip of the copper tub, warm now from the steam and from his body leaning against it. He couldn’t let go, and he couldn’t get enough of the kisses that burned his lips and tongue like too hot coffee on a cold Italian morning.

Reaching down behind Rafe, Phineas grabbed Rafe’s asscheeks and pulled, moving them both to standing in a single powerful move. The strength implied in the gesture took his breath. Rafe was used to being the stronger in his bed partnerings, but Phineas could easily overpower him in sheer size and brawn.

He worked feverishly to divest Phineas of the rest of his garments. The boots presented a challenge, but soon they splashed back into the tub, both of them sinking to their knees to continue the kisses. Their cocks met below, rubbing along each other’s lengths, and Phineas moaned, the sound rough and desperate.

Rafe grabbed their cocks in his hands, working them together, giving them the friction both of them craved. Phineas jerked as if he’d been slapped, body sawing back and forth, and Rafe thought it had been too long since someone had touched this beautiful man. Far too long.

He gritted his teeth against the need to shoot and rubbed his thumbs over the tip of Phineas’ cock, moving the looser skin at the tip.

Phineas shouted, hips rocking madly, and Rafe knew the little death would happen soon. He broke the kiss they shared to watch, speeding his movements. He stroked twice more, perhaps three times before Phineas shot for him, face creased in an exaggerated grimace of pleasure that seemed to border on pain.

Rafe surprised himself by spending immediately after, as if he were an untried youth rather than a man of vast experience with both sexes.

They cleaned on one another, panting, for long moments. Then Phineas took up a cloth and scrubbed them both clean. Neither of them broke the silence, which seemed fragile enough to shatter, until Phineas stood so he could grab a bath sheet. “Shall we rinse?”

“Yes.” Rafe stood as well, while Phineas brought a bucket of warm water to sluice away the suds. He touched Phineas every time they came close enough, testing the muscled chest and flat belly, fingering the rise and dip of one hipbone.

“We need to tell Lelia,” Phineas finally murmured.

“About this?” He raised his brows, sliding his hand down to cup Phineas’ heavy testicles.

“No.” Voice rising, Phineas went up on tiptoe. “About the attempt on your life.”

“We can meet with her in the morning. Let me stay with you tonight, Phineas.”

Phineas stared into Rafe’s eyes for a long moment, then nodded, lips quirking into a smile. “No doubt it is a mistake, but I want you.”

His heart, which had begun to slow, kicked back into a heavy, hard beat, and Rafe stepped out of the tub, leading Phineas to the giant bed. Yes. It was, no doubt, a mistake to get involved with this man, but Rafe couldn’t imagine saying no and leaving now.

****

“This is intolerable. We need to call off the engagement.” Lelia paced back and forth, her dressing gown flapping around her where the tie had come undone.

Phineas and that infernal Rafael Gaudi both sat in her parlor, watching her pace. Neither seemed as concerned with the situation as they ought to be.

“Nonsense,” Phineas said. “I won’t leave you unprotected.”

“And I won’t have either of you getting killed for me!” Really, Rafe had shown her his arm. The bruises appeared vicious. She shuddered to think what could have happened with the knife.

Rafe smiled, resembling a cat who’d found a cache of cream. “Oh, I live for this kind of intrigue, my dear. Now, tell me who has a stake in your cousin’s inheritance.”

“That’s just it.” She flapped a hand, a habit she abhorred but couldn’t seem to be rid of. “I’ve made lists. I’ve talked to Amelie, Eustace’s wife. No one comes to mind.”

“What of your many suitors, then?” Phineas asked. “I believe you told me they were like wolves at your door.”

“Well, yes, but hiring assailants? They need me for my fortune. I cannot imagine them paying someone.”

“Men will do awful things for very little money,” Phineas said.

“I know that. Therefore, we’re calling it off.” She advanced on Phineas when he stood, poking a finger at his chest.