Love is a Stranger (3 page)

They began to walk their horses back toward the headland separating the two beaches at high tide. “I was curious when you would tell me, though.”

“No, you weren’t. Jesus. Is this about the job or is this about us? You think his death has something to do with…It was just a kiss. People kiss.
Normal
people kiss.”

“You think you are not normal?”

“I think
you’re
not normal! With all due respect. Sir.”

Nikolas laughed. “So, you think I will become a substitute Nathan for you?”

Ben groaned. “No. Christ. Look, forget it, yeah? I…You won the fucking race. You
always
win, okay? I thought…” They were in the shelter of the cliff now, wind worn and hollowed into shallow caves all along the lower edge. “I just wanted…”

Nikolas’s hand suddenly cupped him around the back of the neck and pulled him close, his lips landing on Ben’s, silencing him. Their lips were cold, skin cold, but Nikolas’s leather gloves were soft on Ben’s face as they tested and tasted the kiss. The same height, they were a natural fit. They pulled apart, a rare smile on both their faces, and then they kissed again, this time with lips eagerly opening, tongues exploring. Ben thought his tongue had already discovered the most intimate places on his boss’s body, but he was wrong; this was something very different. He doubted either of them could kiss like this and keep up pretence or habitual detachment.

It was only Ben’s horse rearing and snorting that alerted them to the presence of others on the beach. Ben heard a yapping and saw two dogs come racing around the headland, chasing seagulls, barking joyously. They eased apart and remounted, walking their horses slowly, side by side. Ben couldn’t think of a thing to say, and he was fairly sure Nikolas was equally stumped. There was a lot to process. On the wind-blown promise of something better, something almost tangible and real, things had suddenly changed between them. They clearly both sensed it, and it silenced their front of easy familiarity. Ben felt a knot of sick tension in his belly. He’d rather things stayed as they were than lose Nikolas entirely. He knew very well who held all the power in this strange relationship—and it wasn’t him. Finally, Nikolas laughed ruefully and ran his fingers through his hair in a gesture so familiar that Ben knew things would be okay between them. He hadn’t ruined anything. He glanced at Nikolas to find the look returned. He shook his head fondly. “I’m sorry I blew up about Nate, sir. I guess I feel guilty because I pulled him into my life and it got him killed.”

“Did you intend for that to happen?”

“No! Of course not.”

“Then I see no cause for you to feel guilty. Sad, yes. But sadness always passes.”

Ben watched his boss’s lowered eyes as he spoke. He was tempted to ask when Nikolas’s sadness would pass but knew the question wouldn’t be tolerated. Instead, he announced cheekily, emboldened by the kiss, “Last one back buys lunch!”

He was a length ahead when they reached the stable, but then he’d been allowed to win. Who was indulging whom in this little victory, Ben wouldn’t have cared to say. They dismounted, and Nikolas handed the reins to a stable boy, fishing in his pocket for a last treat for Ben’s horse and murmuring something to her in the wild language of his conquering forebears.

CHAPTER FOUR

They walked side by side back to the house, and Ben saw that Philipa’s other guests had arrived. The lower rooms would now be noisy with people, bags, dogs, and assorted accoutrements for a pre-Christmas weekend in the country. Nikolas gave Ben a nudge, and they went around the back of the house to the offices from which a private staircase rose to the upper floors. He followed Ben to the large bedroom in the original Elizabethan part of the house, which was almost called “Ben’s Room,” so frequently had he stayed there. Low mullioned windows let in a weak winter sun that only penetrated the room for an hour or so each day at this time of year, the gloom not helped by the thick ivy growing over this ancient part of the house. Ben went to the window, leaning on the sill, peering out. “Have I ever mentioned that I love this house?”

Nikolas smiled. “Once or twice. I will send you the upkeep bills if you would like. Were you adequately insured?”

Ben nodded. “I think I could afford one of your dogs’ kennels now.”

Nikolas came closer, standing behind him. “I’d give you preferable rates, Benjamin, you know that.” Ben turned. The frisson of anticipation surged back, but for the first time ever it wasn’t for rough sex. He wanted Nikolas to kiss him again. He wanted Nikolas to
initiate
another kiss, to admit his need—to admit finally that this, what they had, was
more
than sex. He could see the hesitation. Unbelievably, he could see confusion in Nikolas’s eyes. He wondered if this secretive man had ever been confused about anything in his life. That
he
was the one confusing his boss only added to Ben’s mounting excitement. Finally, some decision seemed to have been reached in the impenetrable brown eyes. Nikolas put out a hand and snagged Ben’s sleeve. With his other hand, he cupped Ben’s face, brushing his thumb over the prominent cheekbone.

“So…luncheon?” He flashed a swift grin and turned away, walking to the door.

Ben groaned. “You sod.”

Nikolas went out onto the landing. “Do take your time to shower and change. There is plenty of hot water.” He turned with an inscrutable look. “Unless you need a cold one, of course.”

§§§

Ben wouldn’t have dared call the meal lunch. It deserved the name luncheon, twelve people around a Georgian table in the huge dining room, servants hovering as the guests helped themselves to a sumptuous buffet laid around a beautifully decorated fifteen-foot Christmas tree. A fire crackled in the original fireplace, the mantel decorated with yet more greenery. Ben recognised most of the other guests from his many weekends staying with the Mikkelsens. Truth be told, they all looked alike to him—wealthy, entitled, landed. As he was none of these, he preserved his dignity by wrapping an air of silent mystery around himself, eating anything offered him as it was all free, and entertaining himself by watching his boss dissemble, charm, and seduce. He had a lot to learn from Sir Nikolas Mikkelsen. A space opened up next to him, and Lady Philipa slid into it, her plate unfashionably heaped with good things. “So, darling, do tell me that you’ll join us this afternoon.”

Nikolas turned from the woman next to him and said calmly, “You know Benjamin and I never hunt. And we have work to do.”

“Oh, tosh, you can’t let him bully you like this, Ben. You don’t come here to work.”

Ben kept his eyes lowered. “I’m sorry, but if Sir Nikolas needs me…”

Nikolas flashed a smile at his wife but turned a meaningful look on Ben. “You have made yourself invaluable to me, Benjamin.”

Ben kept his eyes on his plate and gulped some more wine.

§§§

Going shooting apparently required a huge amount of barking and shouting, so it was with some relief that Ben finally heard the door to the gunroom slam, a few final raised voices, one yelp, and then silence. He was in the billiard room, lazily knocking balls round by hand. He heard the door open and turned. That was all it took—the sight of Nikolas walking towards him. All his pent-up need broke free, blindsiding him with desire. It didn’t help to have the edge of the table under his butt. That table evoked a lot of memories. Nikolas came closer, running his hand over the polished edge, seeming lost in thought. Ben closed his eyes with anticipation.

“What do you know about badgers, Benjamin?”

Okay…
“I’m sorry?”

Nikolas chuckled at his expression. “They are small, and black and—”

“I fucking know what they are. I mean…sir. Sorry, but I—”

“Why do you always call me sir?”

“Why do you always call me Benjamin?”

“Touché. But,” he ran his fingers through the short hair at the back of Ben’s head, “you can call me Nikolas, you know. Especially when I come inside you. That would be appropriate, do you not think?”

Ben swallowed. “Then call me Ben.”

Nikolas laughed. “You would have to put a gun to my head first, I abhor nicknames. Besides, I like Benjamin. It is very you.”

“No, it’s not. It’s some poncy public school boy my mother wanted me to be.”

“But not the hard tearaway who joined the army at sixteen and passed Selection the first time he tried it?”

“No, not him. He’s Ben.”

“Maybe I like public school boys.” He unbuttoned Ben’s shirt.

“Then you’ve got your pick out there, sir. Why waste the afternoon in here with me, and did you really start this off by asking me what I know about badgers?”

“Hmm. I think I did. I believe you have distracted me though.” Nikolas stroked briefly over the bullet wound, now just a scar on Ben’s ribs. Then he bent his face closer and totally unexpectedly nipped at the warm skin.

“Ow! Jesus!” Ben widened his eyes in disbelief at the visible bite mark around his nipple. “That hurt!”

“Good.” Nikolas did it again to the other one. Ben’s head went back, his knuckles gripping the table until they went white.

He felt his belt being undone and strong hands slid in under his waistband to cup his cheeks. Nikolas pressed against him, need evident, their cocks connecting and rubbing, creating delicious anticipation. “Turn around, Benjamin.”

Ben did, his hardness now pressing into the edge of the solid table. Nikolas eased Ben’s jeans down just enough, and then all Ben felt was dry friction until it wasn’t painful at all, until it was good and then great—and then the long, slow build up to the very best. Nikolas slid a hand up under Ben’s shirt, spreading his fingers over Ben’s back, holding him down. The other hand gripped Ben’s hip determinedly as he rode the hard muscular figure. If Ben thought about Nikolas riding his horse, primal and ferocious, it only added to the great wrongness of the whole scene. They didn’t say much; they never did. When it was like this, this was all they needed. Ben suddenly grunted, “I’m gonna come…”

Nikolas leaned over his back, thrusting harder. “Do not mark my expensive table.”

“What? Fuck!” He put his hand down and caught his release awkwardly, wiping it on his jeans in disgust as Nikolas came inside him, swearing something in his own language, draping boneless and drained over Ben’s back. Then he straightened and slapped Ben hard on the backside as he pulled out. “Good boy. Now…badgers.”

Ben sank to his knees. “Oh, God. You’re insane.”

Nikolas came to his side, tucked away and immaculate as always. “I’ve been called that before.” He offered Ben a hand and uncharacteristically assisted in tucking him in and making him presentable. Then he caught Ben’s gaze and added thoughtfully, “You make me mad this day.”

“Huh?”

Nikolas flushed slightly, high on his cheekbones, an even more uncharacteristic gesture than the helpfulness. “My English has failed me.”

“I’ve made you mad today? How? Why?”

Nikolas pouted. “You do not say mad then. Let me think.” He laughed at himself. “Insane was right all along, Benjamin. Today, I am a little insane for you. I—” He caught Ben’s chin in a tight grip. “Because I want to do this.” He leant in and kissed him. It was a hard, savage taking without thought, until it wasn’t—until it became soft and seeking and very, very good. Then he drew away to gauge Ben’s reaction.

Ben pulled him back, so close Nikolas would be able to feel Ben’s breath on his lips. “That’s not insane, that is absolutely perfect…” He practically ate Nikolas’s face with his urgent kiss. He was desperate for this—this affirmation, this level of attention. It was sick, and he hated himself for being so weak, but when Nikolas wanted to share the intimacy of kissing with him, it made Ben feel real. It was pathetic to have his existence validated in this way, but that was how it was. Nikolas finally pulled away, wiping his mouth, running his fingers through his hair. He batted away Ben’s attempt to seize him once more. “No, you must shower and change, and then I will tell you a story about badgers.” He laughed at Ben’s expression. “Come, I will indulge my insanity and watch you shower.”

“Err…no, you fucking won’t. Sir.”

“My house, my rules.”

Nikolas leant against the counter in the bathroom, playing idly with Ben’s razor while Ben stood under the shower. He’d made a feeble show of protesting this was kinky and weird, but secretly he was pleased and incredibly turned on knowing he was being watched and enjoyed. As he came out, Nikolas handed him a towel. Ben didn’t take it but stood, arms wide, an expectant look on his face. Nikolas huffed but began to dry him off obediently. “I have to do this for the dogs.”