Page 45

Raindrops tapped a gentle rhythm against the window of the private study adjacent to Evander’s bedchamber, the dismal weather matching the turmoil of the past week and his mood.

He stood in front of the enchanted map of London above the marble fireplace, his gaze lost amidst the orange dots glowing warmly beneath the glass case while he sipped a glass of brandy.

Though his body ached with exhaustion from the events of the last two days, his mind refused to quiet.

Solomon’s abduction, the confrontation with Musgrave, the rescue of the missing thralls and professors, the reports to Winterbourne, and last but not least, the summons he had received that afternoon to appear before the Ministry of Arcane Affairs—all of it had left him drained to the marrow of his bones.

And yet, beneath it all, a fierce elation burned. They had succeeded against tremendous odds. He, Viggo, the Met, Nightshade . Even if the mysterious “ I ” remained at large, they had dismantled a significant portion of his operation in London and saved countless innocent lives in the process.

A gentle knock at the door pulled Evander from his thoughts.

“Your Grace?” Hargrove appeared, his eyes twinkling despite his neutral expression. “Mr. Stonewall has arrived.”

Evander’s heart leapt in his chest. “Show him in, please.”

“Of course, my Lord.” Hargrove hesitated. “Shall I have a light supper prepared?”

“Yes, that would be appreciated.”

The manservant bowed and departed, leaving Evander to smooth down his waistcoat and run a hand through his hair. He’d returned home that morning to quickly shower and change out of his dirt-stained clothes. He was in dire need of a proper bath still.

Soft footfalls in the corridor announced Viggo’s approach. It never ceased to amaze Evander how quiet his lover could be for a man his size.

The Brute entered the room and paused on the threshold, his massive frame filling the doorway. Although he too had changed, the shadows beneath his eyes betrayed his exhaustion.

Their gazes locked across the room, Viggo drinking in the sight of him like a parched man.

“You look terrible,” he said, his lips quirking in a half smile.

Evander smiled back, his muscles finally loosening. “Your flattery never ceases to amaze me.”

Viggo grinned. “It’s the truth.” He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Have you slept at all since yesterday?”

“Have you?” Evander said softly, walking over to him.

The Brute’s smile faded as he accepted his embrace. “How could I? Every time I close my eyes, I see that laboratory and those poor souls trapped in those glass tanks.” He sighed into Evander’s hair, his arms tightening briefly on his back.

“How’s Solomon?”

“Chomping at the bit to be discharged,” Viggo drawled, exasperation underscoring his words. “If it wasn’t for Ginny lambasting him, he would have sneaked out of the damn infirmary by now.”

Evander chuckled. “I really need to thank her for everything she’s done.” He let go of Viggo and crossed the room to pour him a glass of brandy from a crystal decanter.

“To survival,” Evander said quietly, raising his glass.

Viggo clinked his glass against Evander’s, his eyes darkening. “To survival.”

They drank in companionable silence, the tension of the past days slowly ebbing away. Evander found himself studying Viggo’s face, tracing the lines of weariness around his eyes, the set of his jaw, the way the firelight played across his skin.

“What?” Viggo asked, catching his stare.

Heat rose to Evander’s cheeks. “I was just thinking that despite everything, I’m glad we met.”

Viggo’s gaze softened. “Even with all the danger and mayhem it’s entailed so far?”

“Even with that.” Evander set his glass down on the mantelpiece and cupped Viggo’s face with a hand. “It brought you into my life, after all. And had it not been for that fateful meeting, we might not have been able to save all those people.”

The Brute’s expression turned tender. He put his glass down and covered Evander’s hand with his own before pressing a kiss to his palm that ignited his nerve endings.

“You know, for a man of your standing, you say the most remarkably sentimental things at times,” he said gravely.

“Only to you,” Evander murmured, aware he was baring his heart and not caring.

A banked heat ignited in Viggo’s eyes at his vulnerable tone.

He lowered his head and claimed Evander’s mouth, his lips warm and insistent.

The kiss began gently before deepening into something more urgent.

Evander’s arms wound around Viggo’s neck, drawing him closer as the Brute’s hands moved to his waist.

Both of them were breathing heavily when they finally broke apart.

A discreet cough made them jump.

Hargrove stood in the doorway with a serving cart and a salacious smile.

“My apologies,” the man servant said in a syrupy voice. “I did not want to interrupt.”

Evander sighed. “Jasper?”

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Get out.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Hargrove wheeled the cart inside the room before departing, still grinning.

Viggo’s stomach grumbled loudly in the silence.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

Evander’s expression softened. “Let’s eat.”

They spoke of trivial things while they partook of the food, both avoiding the grave matters that would have them busy again come morning.

Viggo sat back in his armchair after they finished their meal.

“That hit the spot,” he groaned. “Your cook is the best.”

Evander chuckled and took a sip of his wine.

Viggo watched him broodingly over his glass.

“What is it?” Evander said quizzically.

“I just realised I’m missing something.”

Evander frowned. “You are?”

“Yes,” Viggo said with a solemn nod. “My daily dose of the Duke.”

Evander blinked. He flushed. “We just kissed. Rather spectacularly I must add, judging from Jasper’s expression of delight.”

Viggo arched an eyebrow. “That’s not what I meant.”

Lust started a siren song inside Evander, quickening his pulse and sending a shiver of anticipation dancing down his spine.

“You know, sometimes I think you’re with me just for my body,” he fake grumbled.

Viggo’s mouth curved in a sensual smile that made his heart skip a beat, his expression telling him he wasn’t buying his protest.

“It’s a spectacular body, if I say so myself.”

Heat pooled in Evander’s groin as the Brute put down his wine glass, rose, and pulled him to his feet. The air sparked between them, so charged with sexual tension Evander found his breath catching.

Viggo rubbed the pad of his thumb over Evander’s lips. “How about we take this to the bathroom?”

Evander swallowed and nodded.

Viggo took his hand and led him through the door at the back of the study that opened directly into his bedchamber, and from there to the luxurious bathroom beyond.

He headed over to the shower and turned the array of taps.

Hot water immediately burst from the multiple heads in the ceiling and walls.

Steam began to fill the room as he turned to Evander.

He closed the distance between them and began working on the buttons of Evander’s waistcoat, his fingers moving with practiced dexterity.

Evander finally gave in to the passion singing in his blood, grasped Viggo’s face, and yanked him down for a hungry kiss.