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“Freddie.”

“Indeed. Why don’t you take him upstairs to his room, Freddie? He could probably use a rest after all the excitement.”

Anthony nodded.

“Beautiful. I’ll stay and finish my scone. See you at rehearsal tomorrow.”

Freddie gestured for Anthony to walk in front of him. Anthony moved forward on shaky legs, wondering if he was now going to his room with a serial killer. Some flaws, even a gorgeous face and a perfect body couldn’t overcome.

As the elevator ascended, Anthony breathed deeply and regained the power of speech. “Listen, I don’t know—”

The elevator door opened and Freddie held up his hand to quiet him. Anthony rolled his eyes. All this spy stuff was a pile of baked bullshit. He stepped out and took a right.

Freddie cleared his throat. “Wrong way.”

Anthony had arrived a few hours ago. He couldn’t be expected to remember where his room was. He trailed behind Freddie in the other direction. How had he known? When they reached Anthony’s room, Freddie waved a card and the door unlocked. He opened it.

“What the hell?” Anthony was unable to control the trepidation in his voice. How had Freddie gotten a key?

Freddie shrugged. Shooting him the look of death, Anthony stepped into the door frame, and was immediately stopped by Freddie’s arm across his chest. It was a nice arm. Anthony felt the solid muscle against his torso, even through the suit jacket.

“Let me.”

Freddie gestured for him to wait and went in. Anthony stood awkwardly, staring helplessly as Freddie checked the closet and disappeared into the bathroom.

Every second he spent waiting in the hall, he got angrier and angrier. Who the hell did this guy think he was? Even if his accent was fucking perfect, he had no right to order Anthony around.

Freddie stuck his head out.

“Okay.”

Anthony stormed through the entryway, facing off with Freddie as the door slammed shut behind him.

“I didn’t hire you.”

“Your uncle did.” Freddie’s tone was even, and his face betrayed no emotion.

“Uncle Danny hired you? I don’t believe you. He wouldn’t know how to find someone like you.”

“Master Hughes has many connections.”

“Master Hughes? You mean Oliver?”

“Yes. I go where he sends me.”

“I don’t believe you,” Anthony repeated. He pulled out his cell phone and hit Daniel’s name. Freddie crossed to the window and pushed the curtain to the side, surveying the streets below.

“Hi sweetie!” His uncle’s voice was cheerful, but Anthony pegged it as fake. It was the tone Daniel took when he had done something he shouldn’t have, like the time he’d called the high school to complain when Anthony hadn’t gotten the lead in Anything Goes.

“Uncle Danny, did you get me a bodyguard?”

“Aww, you only call me Uncle Danny when you’re angry.”

“Well, I am! Did you or did you not hire someone to be my bodyguard?” His uncle wasn’t going to wriggle out of this one.

“Oliver and I were worried about you, honey. We knew Freddie would be right for the job.”

“I can’t have a bodyguard!”