[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

candles stationed about. Instead of waiting for a maid to see to the tasks, he lit the candles on the side
table between two of the leather armchairs. The hearth he left dark no reason to bother with it. The
bit of dampness lingering in the air from the earlier summer rain certainly wouldn t harm them.
Max sat and motioned Tristan to the other armchair.
 Did you finish with your ledgers early today? Tristan asked, settling his lean frame into the chair.
 No. Said ledgers and a fat pile of paperwork were exactly where he d left them, in neat stacks
awaiting his attention. Tomorrow, he reassured himself. He d deal with them tomorrow.
 Oh, Tristan replied, slightly taken aback. He gave his shirt cuff a tug, straightening it beneath the
sleeve of his coat. The cuff arranged to his satisfaction, he looked to Max again.  Thank you for
serving as my guide this afternoon. The edges of his mouth quirked up in a hint of a sinful smile.
 My pleasure. And it had definitely been Max s pleasure. It had taken all his self-control to keep
the groans inside as Tristan had sucked him dry.
The snick of a knob turning cut through the silence, tearing Max s thoughts from those full lips, the
decadent feel of Tristan s throat caressing the head of his cock. A maid entered the room bearing the
requested brandy.
Tristan pulled his gaze from Max, to the shelves upon shelves lining the walls.  You certainly have
a lot of books. Have you read many of them?
With a light clink of crystal against silver, the maid set a tray with the brandy on the side table. A
short curtsy, and she left the room.
 Yes, years ago. My tutor used the library as a source for teaching materials. He used to dread
when the man would walk into the schoolroom, arms full of new finds from this room s shelves. Max
reached for the decanter, poured two glasses of brandy.
Tristan took the proffered glass with a murmured,  Thanks. The candlelight picked up the pale
blond strands in his ginger hair. Max flexed his free hand, the memory of those silken strands still
fresh on his skin.
 But not recently? Tristan asked.
 No.
 Too busy in your study?
Max tipped his head and took a long swallow of brandy.
 Do you spend every day behind your desk?
 With the exception of this afternoon, yes. Unless I m in London to attend Parliament or to deal
with business matters there.
 Don t you enjoy hunting or shooting or some other pastime? You have a stable full of prime
horseflesh. Do you ever take one out just to go for a ride, enjoy a sunny summer s day?
 A dukedom does not manage itself, Max said, repeating the phrase he d heard too many times to
count.
What would his father think if he knew Max had turned his back on the dukedom in favor of an
early afternoon orgasm?
His choice of a bed partner would most assuredly raise an eyebrow. Though his father wouldn t be
surprised in the slightest to learn Max had neglected his responsibilities. Was continuing to neglect
them at that very moment.
Yet tonight... Tonight he wasn t of a mind to dwell on it or let guilt weigh him down. The way
Tristan had dropped so eagerly to his knees in that narrow, dark corridor had turned his attention to the
locked trunk beside his writing desk. The one he had yet to open since arriving at Arrington Park.
He took another long swallow of brandy.  Shortly before we left London, and after I d played
footman for you, I stopped at a shop off Bond Street.
 What sort of shop?
 One for discriminating gentlemen.
Tristan s brow furrowed. He wasn t familiar with that particular shop, hadn t a clue as to the variety
of merchandise sold there. Yet the way Tristan held his gaze indicated he suspected there was a
meaning to Max s words that he didn t quite catch.
He d become familiar with a few of the shop s goods soon enough.
Max set his glass on the side table and stood.  I believe I shall retire a bit early tonight.
* * *
Tristan watched as Max s broad-shouldered back disappeared into the corridor, the library door left
open behind him. He sat there, half-empty glass in hand, as the rhythmic sounds of Max s footsteps on
the marble floor faded into nothingness.
With a quick shake of his head, he jolted himself to his senses. If Max was retiring early, then so
should he.
He made his way up to his bedchamber. As he turned at the top of the stairs, he caught sight of a
servant in a plain black coat opening one of the double doors leading to Max s rooms. Likely the
man s valet, which meant a good half an hour or so until Max opened the door at his end of the
passageway between their rooms.
Plenty of time for Tristan to get ready for the night and rumple the sheets on his own bed. He d
spent one of the hours before supper soaking in the tub, which had worked wonders his arse hadn t
objected to the lengthy formal meal. As he went into his dressing room, he unbuttoned his coat.
Discriminating gentlemen...
A shop that sold objects of an erotic nature? Including, perhaps, leather goods?
He shook his arms free of the coat sleeves, tugged at his cravat. He d never had need to look for
such a shop, hadn t a notion where they were in London, yet he knew the drawers in the chests at
Rubicon s hadn t filled themselves. There had to be some places in the City that dealt with such
goods, and it appeared Max might know the location of at least one of those shops.
After stripping off the rest of his clothes and putting them in the basket for a maid to see to, he went
into the washroom, anticipation building in his veins. Max was a damned tease, but he was a very
good tease and one who always followed through, never disappointed.
Oh hell no, Max never disappointed when it came to activities in the bedchamber.
Clad in a fresh pair of trousers and a white shirt, he was surprised to find the door at the end of the
passageway open when he peeked inside. He d expected it to still be shut, for Max to leave him in
suspense a while longer. Though Tristan certainly wasn t going to object if Max wasn t in the mood to
allow his valet to dally.
He found Max not in bed waiting for him, but in an armchair situated near the fireplace and wearing
a pair of trousers. Reaching behind him, Tristan shut the door to the passageway.
 Remove your clothes, Max said, voice lusciously deep.
Shirt and trousers were soon on the floorboards. Arms at his sides, he waited for Max s next
command.
 You were a very naughty man this afternoon.
Tristan nodded. He couldn t argue the statement. Sucking Max off when there could have been a [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]