Chapter 1 #4
Joshua’s gaze snagged to settle on Leo. His voice held a defensive note. “I was raised to believe that a person’s word actually means something.”
Well. Now that was just naive. It was also strangely sweet, and a little sad. Leo wondered whether he might have said the same at age seventeen, before he’d crash-landed in reality.
“Look,” he said slowly. “Where I come from, the only currencies are money, sex and power. More often than not, they’re one and the same.” He raised his brows. “You can’t expect a blackmailer to operate by the ethical code preached in College Chapel, you know?”
At Joshua’s surprised glance, Leo realised that he might have betrayed a familiarity with Eton’s traditions that not everyone possessed.
Fuck, he was usually better at guarding himself, but Joshua’s presence was disorienting, cut through walls Leo had diligently erected and exposed the shoddy foundation underneath.
Joshua was a fragment of Leo’s past. He didn’t belong in this present.
“How—” Joshua began, and Leo cut him off.
“A gentleman’s agreement only works if both sides are behaving like gentlemen. Not applicable in this case.”
It was highly, highly impolite to interrupt a member of the Royal Family.
There was a distinct possibility that in dark and long-gone times, people had been hanged for this kind of thing.
Joshua merely blinked at him though, and yes, his eyes were still so very green, and his mouth was still a tad too wide for his face—the same mouth Leo had fantasised about with a hand stuffed down his pants, face turned into a pillow to muffle all sounds.
Back then, sex had been a sticky-sweet promise.
“Because blackmailers aren’t gentlemen? Or because you consider me a coward?
” Joshua was looking directly at Leo as though challenging him to say…
something, Leo didn’t know. It was strange and unwelcome to have that kind of focus turned to him, like a spotlight that would catch each twitch of a muscle, each blemish on his facade.
He opened his mouth without any clear idea of what he was going to say.
He was saved by Nate inserting himself into the conversation once more. Bless him.
“What about your friend?” Nate asked carefully, and he didn’t twist the word “friend” into a mockery of itself, the way Leo would have done. “What’d he say?”
When Joshua glanced away, the claustrophobic pressure around Leo’s chest eased just slightly. He watched Joshua direct a tiny smile at Nate before answering.
“Mo told me he’s fine with whatever. And he’s mostly already out as bi, so there’s that, and since he doesn’t come from a noble family, it’s not like…
They’re not…” Joshua paused. For someone who had likely been trained in elocution from an early age, he had a surprising tendency to ramble and trip over his own words.
“He’s a model. So he’s not too keen on having his private bits on the news, but it wouldn’t be quite as bad for him. His words, not mine.”
A model, huh? Now that it had been brought up, Leo supposed that the man straddling Joshua had seemed vaguely familiar, someone he might know from the pages of glossy fashion magazines.
Not that Leo was into that kind of reading material, really.
He only flicked through GQ when he was high-strung and overtired, and because James insisted on a subscription for their waiting room even though they only consulted by appointment and dealt in clients thoroughly unused to waiting.
Also, trust bloody Prince Joshua of Wales to hang out in the closet and still get to shag models. Just went to prove that clichés existed for a reason.
Leo was about to make a comment along those lines—screw appropriateness—when Joshua took a step back, shaking his head. “Anyway,” he said. “Could you point me to the gents?”
“You mean you need to piss?” Leo asked pointedly. “Or is that too plebeian for you?” It was barely out when Nate pinched him in the hip, hard. He may have deserved that.
Joshua drew himself up, clearly aware of his height advantage. “Yes. I need to piss. Because I’m human, surprisingly.”
Nate interfered before Leo got a chance to dig himself into an even deeper hole. “Loos are down the corridor, last door on the left.”
“Thank you,” Joshua said, all dignity. With a blank look directed at Leo, he headed off in the indicated direction.
“What the actual fuck?” Nate hissed as soon as Joshua was out of earshot.
“Don’t.” Abruptly, Leo felt tired. Like water rushing down his body, the energy that had been sizzling in his blood drained away and left him mildly nauseated. This wasn’t him. “Just don’t, please.”
“Leo,” Nate began, not as harsh anymore.
“Please,” Leo repeated, and the wrinkles in Nate’s forehead smoothed out.
“Okay. Just remember that he’s a client, yeah? Remember that we’re on his side.”
“I know.” Leo inhaled, held the air in his lungs while he counted to five, and exhaled. “I know. I just think he’s making a mistake.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had a client make the wrong call. What’s your personal stake in this?”
Leo swallowed around the lump in his throat. “None. Absolutely none. I should probably apologise or something.”
It was clear Nate didn’t quite believe Leo’s claim, but he also didn’t stop Leo from dumping his untouched tea into the sink before setting off for the toilets. He’d apologise, yes. That was what he’d do. He’d apologise, and he’d be professional and calm about it, and he would give it a rest.
Really. It was exactly what he’d do.
Just as soon as he’d had a chance to explain his reasoning.
Joshua’s lumberjack of a bodyguard assessed Leo with a rather distrusting expression when Leo stepped around him to enter the toilets, but made no move to stop him.
So far, so good. Letting the door shut, Leo found Joshua at the sink, washing his hands.
He stiffened when he caught sight of Leo, then made a point of acting as though he hadn’t even noticed his presence.
On second thought, there might have been places better suited to this conversation than the loo. Too late, though. Leo had made his move.
“Hey. Princeling?” In the mirror, he caught Joshua’s eyes and held them.
Joshua cocked his head and levelled Leo with an unreadable look. He remained silent as he shut the tap off, shaking water off his hands.
“Allow me to ask a question,” Leo said. “Just one.”
Joshua didn’t break their eye contact in the mirror, and Leo supposed that was enough of an invitation.
As a teenager, Leo had dreamed of something a little like this: happening upon Joshua in the toilets, the Prince alone for once, less intimidating without his usual entourage and hangers-on.
They’d bump into each other somehow, Leo would make a clever comment and Joshua would laugh, the one where he threw his head back to expose the bare column of his throat.
Then they’d become friends and fall in love and into bed. In that order.
Teenage Leo had been mildly ridiculous. Teenage Leo had also been funnier, brighter, more optimistic and social, high on life and unfamiliar with worrying about his next warm meal and a roof for the night. He might have been Joshua’s type.
Not the point.
“How closely have you examined the idea that someone might have tipped them off?” Leo asked slowly. “Because that camera in your hotel room was no lucky coincidence.”
“I told you that Mo wouldn’t do that.” Joshua’s tone was sharp, and Leo raised both hands, palms up.
“I’m not saying it was your Mo. Just someone.
Someone who would know what to look for, and who knew you’d be staying in that hotel.
That couldn’t be more than a handful of people, correct?
” When it looked as though Joshua was about to interrupt, Leo continued quickly, leaning forward as he turned his head to study Joshua’s profile rather than a reflection of his face.
“And yes, it might have been a stranger who stalked you long enough to know things. But maybe it wasn’t.
You should at least consider the possibility. ”
After a frozen moment, the stillness all-encompassing, Joshua ducked his head. He ran damp fingers through his hair, making it stick up in odd strands, the corkscrew curls at his temples reminiscent of the teenager Leo had once been infatuated with. Joshua’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t reply.
Something about that ached in Leo’s chest, made his next breath feel as cold and smooth as liquid nitrogen. “I know it sucks, having to doubt everyone around you,” he murmured, softer than he’d intended. “But you shouldn’t trust blindly.”
“I don’t.” Joshua glanced over, a flicker of darkness in his expression. “I’ve learned as much.”
“Okay.” Leo inhaled and kept the air in his lungs for a beat. “But how about you give us a chance to find out more? Nate is one of the best hackers in this country, so really… One day, all right? Give us one day to find out something, see whether his computer wizardry reveals anything.”
The stark overhead light made Joshua’s lashes cast shadows on his cheeks.
When he abruptly raised his head and turned to look at Leo, it was too quickly for Leo to pretend that he hadn’t been staring.
Joshua exhaled in a rush. “What if you stir them up? Like, what if they notice you’re on to them, and they release the stuff before we have any kind of plan? ”
Who’s rushing you? Leo didn’t ask. Instead, he settled for, “I wasn’t kidding about Nate being one of the best. If you keep your mouth shut, don’t tell anyone about it—not even your Mo—”
“Not my Mo,” Joshua cut in, followed by a tiny twitch of his shoulders. “I mean, not that it matters, I guess, but I’d prefer if you stopped it with the mocking undertone. He’s one of my best friends, and I’d rather you didn’t… belittle that.”
Leo squashed the impulse to argue just for the sake of it. “Fair enough,” he allowed.