Page 43 of First Snow
“Yes. No. I don’t know,” Arttu stutters.
Jareth must attribute Arttu’s tension to the fact that they’ll be attending a high-profile orgy. That’s good, Arttu tries to tell himself. Jareth will be more compliant if he thinks Arttu is out of his depth. He’s learned quickly how to use Jareth’s protective instincts for his own gain, and Jareth, after all, has no idea that his sub isn’t who he claims to be. Arttu’s chest goes tight with guilt. If Jareth turns out to be innocent, then Arttu has taken shameless advantage of him.
“We can call the whole thing off if you aren’t comfortable,” Jareth offers.
“Hell, no!” Arttu hurries to reassure him. “I want to go. I really do.”
Jareth hasn’t started the car yet. He lets go of Arttu’s hand to brush over his chest, then places it on Arttu’s stomach. It radiates comforting warmth that makes Arttu immediately more relaxed.
“Where do you feel the tension? Down here? Or does it sit higher?”
Arttu’s shoulders unwind and he slumps into the soft leather of the seat. The warmth of Jareth’s touch makes some of the nervous energy bleed away.
“Both,” he admits sheepishly. “Makes my chest feel tight, before it pools lower. And then it bubbles in my stomach. Feels as if I swallowed a pack of effervescent tablets.”
Jareth hums in understanding and starts to rub small, calming circles over Arttu’s belly.
“You have never been to such an event before, I assume?”
Arttu shakes his head.
“Are you worried about meeting someone you know?”
Damn, Jareth is really good at reading him. It’s a miracle that he hasn’t become suspicious of Arttu yet. And of course Jareth is right. Arttu is worried about meeting someone who knows him—he is the son of a politician, after all. And there’s still the small fact that he exposed his father’s criminal machinations, leading to his arrest. His father’s party, of course, excluded him after everything came to light, but Paavo Palosaari still has many friends in the party. People who would love to get back at Arttu for causing a scandal, and probably costing them an election.
“Well, I see a lot of politicians at work. Would be kind of awkward to meet one of them there,” Arttu mumbles.
Jareth turns to him, assessing him with dark eyes. For a moment, it almost seems like there’s something dangerous lurking underneath his calm exterior. Arttu shudders, but it’s not from dread. Part of him relishes the danger. Maybe he should get himself a psychological evaluation when he’s done with this shit.
“Okay.” Jareth brushes some unruly stands from Arttu’s face. “But there will be measures to ensure anonymity. You’ll wear a mask, or face paint if you prefer.”
“Sounds good.”
“Also, I want you to alert me if you recognize someone. I’ll make sure they won’t notice you.”
Arttu opens his mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. His pulse, which had just calmed down, starts racing again. If they meet someone Arttu knows, it’s crucial that Jareth never learns of it. He can’t trust Jareth with information like that if he wants to make sure Jareth never finds out who he truly is.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Arttu croaks.
Cupping his neck, Jareth draws small circles under Arttu’s ear with his thumb. His mismatched eyes bore into Arttu’s very soul. Jareth sighs deeply.
“Shit,” he breathes, startling Arttu out of his jumbled thoughts.
“What’s wrong?” Arttu asks, alarmed, looking around as if some kind of physical threat might have materialized next to the jeep.
“Okay, sweetheart, we have a problem here.”
Arttu’s stomach plummets. What’s happening? Did he give himself away somehow? Did Jareth figure him out?
“Breathe, Arttu,” Jareth orders gently. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? You simply don’t trust me, which is fair. You don’t know me all that well, after all. But how am I supposed to make sure that you feel safe at a public BDSM event when you can’t trust me with personal information? How can I ensure you enjoy yourself when you can’t tell me what’s bothering you?”
Arttu wants to scream in frustration. Why does Jareth have to be so obsessed with his well-being? Arttu needs to go to this event. It’s the only chance he might get to figure out what’s going on with Lord Briar, and what kind of business he wants to do with Jareth.
“That’s not—” Arttu starts, fumbling for words. He needs to convince Jareth to go through with their plan. “I admit that I’m a bit nervous about tonight, and I don’t fancy meeting someone from work. But what are the chances, right?” he laughs, sounding more nervous than he’d planned.
Jareth bites his lip. “I know that you want to go, sweetheart. And I don’t want to punish you for being honest with me by taking it away from you. But at the same time, I need your trust. Public events can be stressful and I need you to alert me when something’s wrong. Do you understand my dilemma?”
Damn, Jareth is precious. Nodding, Arttu drops his gaze.