Joe laughed and it echoed up into the high ceiling and reflected back from the walls. He covered his mouth. “Shhh, don’t tell anyone. I’ll be sent to the Tower for that!”
“I’d smuggle in a rope ladder in my hair and save you.” Alejandro looked at the altar, then at Joe. He fluttered his eyelashes, teasing. “What do you think, prettier than Princess Kate?”
“Yes. Even in ballet slippers.” Joe glanced down at the shape of Alejandro’s toes through the supple leather. “I didn’t know I had a thing for feet until I met you. Or perhaps it’s only your feet I’m so fond of.”
“My little feet.” He laughed. “Do you like them, Sergeant?”
“I do,” Joe replied. “They’re adorable. All of you is adorable.”
Alejandro stepped forward and buried his head against Joe’s shoulder. His arm encircled Joe’s waist. “I’ll blush,” he whispered.
Joe slipped his arm around him. It was odd to find the chapel such an intimate place when it was so well-known and funerals and weddings performed there had been broadcast around the world into people’s front rooms. But it was the light from the windows that held Joe spellbound as he ghosted his lips across Alejandro’s hair.
“If we were a couple, I’d always look after you.” Joe gently stroked Alejandro’s cheek. “You’re very precious, Alejo. I hope you know that.”
“I’d look after you too, I’d do anything for you.” He lifted his head and blinked at Joe. “Don’t say if. Say when.”
Joe leaned in a little closer, gently touching the tip of his nose to Alejandro’s. “I try not to, but I think of our kiss when we barely knew each other and I wonder how long it’ll be until I can kiss you again.”
“A little peck couldn’t do any harm,” Alejandro whispered.
Joe lightly pressed his lips to Alejandro’s cheek, just where he had stroked it. He smiled against Alejandro’s soft skin and turned his head a little, wondering if Alejandro wanted more than a dainty kiss on his cheek.
“Do lips count as platonic?” Alejandro asked, as though reading his mind.
“If we don’t linger, perhaps?” Joe turned his head a little farther, the edge of his lips just catching the corner of Alejandro’s mouth.
Sergeant Wenlock, this is disgraceful behaviour!
But Joe didn’t care. There was no disgrace in how he felt. There never had been.
And there was nothing platonic in the way Alejandro’s lips caught his, reawakening that kiss they had stolen on Halloween. And it was wonderful. It was like coming back to life.
Joe tightened his embrace, holding Alejandro close to him as if he feared he’d slip away again. In his arms was all he’d ever wanted. A man who looked at him with heat and affection in his gaze, who’d never be dull because he had no idea how to be. As Joe explored Alejandro’s mouth, his heart beating as fast as if he’d run a race, he wondered if he deserved to be with his Alejo, his Paloma. But Alejandro didn’t seem to mind.
“Sergeant Wenlock,” Alejandro whispered, “I’m yours if you want me. Muscles, kisses and sweet too. You’re the perfect man!”
Joe rested his forehead against Alejandro’s. How could he feel drunk? “I do want you. You and your lovely feet and your big eyes, and your… I’m not making much sense, am I? Bloody hell, this feels amazing!”
“And in a chapel! Naughty us!”
“They always kiss at the end of a wedding, don’t they?” Joe said as he gazed at Alejandro. “We’re just carrying on a noble tradition of kissing in the chapel.”
Alejandro kissed Joe’s cheek very tenderly and asked, “Can I show you Nana’s house, Officer?”
Joe smiled so broadly that he had no idea how he’d hide it in front of anyone they might meet. “I’d love you to.”
Going behind the velvet rope had long since ceased to be a big deal for Joe, who had been privy to some of the most personal moments and places in the lives of his charges. Going behind the velvet rope with Alejandro, however, proved a different matter indeed. His guided tour was focussed entirely on everything that was scandalous, on mistresses and saucy secrets and the most fabulous, gaudy rooms he could find. He plotted drag gowns inspired by Napoleon’s scarlet cloak, tutted disapprovingly at the ivory throne and took beaming selfies of the two of them at every opportunity.
“Not for Insta,” Alejandro promised. “For us.”
Joe now saw Windsor quite differently from how he had before. He didn’t want the tour to end, but eventually they wound their way back to Alejandro’s apartment.
“And who were these rooms for? I suppose my bedroom was just for show and was never slept in? And all the sleeping, so to speak, was going on in yours!”
“Cynical old you!” Alejandro took the ballet pumps from his pocket and dropped them beside the hearth. “Even mistresses needed a gal pal to keep them company when the men played cards! Think of the stories Lady Conyngham must have whispered in these rooms, all about her plump little King George!”
Joe laughed. “Discussing his bedroom peccadillos over her embroidery! My dear, he eats pies in bed and leaves crumbs in the blankets!”
“Pies everywhere!” Alejandro hooted. “I’d love a pie, you know. All those forbidden carbs! What tickles your tum, Sarge?”
“After all the walking we’ve done around the castle today, a pie wouldn’t go amiss here either,” Joe replied, patting his stomach. “And you’re most definitely allowed carbs if you want them. You’re a slender chap, we don’t want you to disappear!”
“And I need my energy for the show.” Alejandro nodded, seemingly having convinced himself. “I’ll call the people that do food, see if they can produce a massive pie for me and my man. Because my man needs taking care of!”
Joe kissed Alejandro’s cheek. He felt all warm inside. All soft. “I’ll lay the table. I know there’s staff who do that, but…” But it seemed right and nice and domesticated to do it for Alejandro. And he knew how Alejandro felt about servants anyway.
“I hope none of the old sailors will mind Paloma being a boy,” Alejandro mused as he crossed the room towards the phone. “I wouldn’t want them to be upset. I’m not doing anything too naughty. Lots of old wartime tunes, not much skin and a nice uniform. And I think their charity should get lots of coverage if there’s a drag queen with royal connections on the stage, don’t you think?”
“Well, Abuelito asked you to perform, so I’m sure they won’t complain. Might even bring back happy memories for some them!” Joe winked.
He opened the canteen of cutlery on the sideboard and selected what they needed for dinner from the antique collection. As he laid out the knives and forks on the dining table, he wondered who had used them before him, one hundred, two hundred years ago. Perhaps King George himself had tucked into a pie using this very set.
As he set their places, Alejandro was engaged in a cheery conversation with someone, more like ordering a takeaway than a member of the royal household speaking to the kitchens. Eventually he said his goodbyes and threw the phone onto the sofa, then came to join Joe at the table. It was ridiculously domestic, Joe realised, and ridiculously right.
“Do you think Sir Robert and Paloma have had a nice time without us?” Alejandro slipped his arm around Joe’s waist. “Windsor is better than Japan, you know. Maybe it isn’t, but I think Japan is too far away for my Osito to be.”
“It’s much too far away if you’re all the way over here.” Joe kissed Alejandro’s cheek again. “I do hope they’ve behaved themselves. Who knows what a bear and a toro might get up to while our backs are turned!”
“Whatever it was, I hope they had fun.” Alejandro turned his head a little, peering at Joe. “I haven’t always had much good luck with my men, you know. I choose badly too often. Even when my friends tell me somebody’s bad, I tell them, ‘Give him a chance,’ and they’re always right. I don’t know what’s going to happen for you and me—you might end up tired of little feet and huge wigs and Mariah—but I know I haven’t chosen badly this
time. And I am sorry about everything with your wife and moving away…that must be horrible.”
Joe didn’t reply at once, instead pottering about as he searched for napkins in the sideboard. Then he closed the drawer he’d been rummaging in and looked up at Alejandro. “We’re getting a divorce. It’s okay, we’re trying to be amicable. At least, I think we are. She told me—” Joe pressed his hand to his forehead, then let it fall to his side. “She’s had affairs, Alejo. I wish she’d told me before.”
“Oh, Osito, I’m sorry.” Alejandro remained where he was for a second, then took a few steps forward and touched Joe’s hand softly. “Does she know? Did you tell her you’re gay?”
Shaking his head, Joe took Alejandro’s hand. He swallowed. “I don’t know how to,” he replied in a small voice.
“I don’t think anyone ever gets married intending to be unhappy or to have an affair or to break someone’s heart, but maybe one day you can both be friends again.” He cocked his head to one side, studying Joe. “I can’t imagine not being able to be me, Joe. Whatever happens in the future, promise me you’ll be you from today? I don’t mean just this amazing suit, I mean you. Because everything you are is wonderful.”
Wonderful? Me?
Joe lifted Alejandro’s hand and kissed it. “I’ll try my best. You’re a good example to follow.”
“I think what I’m trying to tell you, and you can ignore it if you like, is to remember that you and Mrs Sergeant must have been happy once.” He caressed Joe’s face with their joined hands. “Be friends if you can, please. The world needs more friends.”
“Maybe we can be friends. I don’t hate her. I just…” Joe sighed. “It’s sad. I wish I’d been able to be honest from the start. She’s not a bad person. She’s ambitious, certainly, which makes her seem a bit ruthless, but she needs to be in her work. She’s quite funny, really, but we forgot how to be friends as we saw so little of each other.”
“I bet you can. She’ll have the life she wants, you’ll have whatever life you want and I bet you’ll both be happier.” He leaned forward and kissed Joe’s cheek. “But it’s okay to be sad now, you know. I really am sorry.”
“You know, it’s a relief,” Joe admitted. “And weirdly, whoever broke into the house smashed, of all things, our wedding photo. Maybe it’s coincidence. Maybe they thought that was the most hurtful thing they could do.”
Alejandro’s mouth fell open. “They smashed your wedding photo? Who would do that?”
Joe shrugged. He didn’t want to alarm Alejandro, even if Leviticus had been behind the break-in. “Someone who thought we had a perfect marriage? I really don’t know. But whoever it was, we’re safe from them here.”
He nodded and replied, “And I bet your boss has made sure she’s safe too. There’re some bastards out there, aren’t they?”
Happily, Alejandro’s bastards did not extend to those responsible for dinner that night. Instead, the kitchens of Windsor Castle did the couple proud, with generous helpings of dinner arriving in the apartment as they’d requested. There were carbs to spare, just as Alejandro had wanted, and together they dined as they watched the moon rise over Windsor in a clear sky, studded with bright stars. They were safe tonight and Alejandro was right, Joe knew, for no harm would come to Wendy as long as she had the Greenhouse’s finest looking out for her.
After dinner, they sat on a sofa in Alejandro’s room with Sir Robert and Paloma. The bed was constantly in the corner of Joe’s eye and even as he allowed himself the occasional kiss with Alejandro, the bed’s looming presence kept reminding him of what might follow.
And we really mustn’t.
Even if Joe craved the closeness of Alejandro. He cuddled him tight instead. They had gone past platonic now, he knew. Not too far, but far enough that Alejandro clung to him in return, like young lovers on their first date.
Joe ran his lips across Alejandro’s hair. When he spoke, his voice was soft with affection. “When all this is over and you don’t need a CPO anymore, then…then I wouldn’t need to sleep in the bedroom along the corridor. If you’d have me.”
“And even if this isn’t over and you get lonely or just want a cuddle and a heart to heart, you don’t need to sleep along the hallway anyway.” Alejandro snuggled even closer, his silky shirt warm beneath Joe’s fingertips. “Sleeping is still platonic, after all.”
A delicious ripple of excitement went through Joe at that moment. “Well, it is a very big bed. We could easily avoid rolling into each other. And Sir Robert and Paloma would be excellent chaperones.”
Alejandro lifted his head to gaze at him, prettier than ever tonight. “We could open a bottle of something and snuggle up?”
“I shouldn’t drink on duty but you’re in one of the safest places you can be.” He’d already broken several protocols, so who would notice another? “Go on, open a bottle!”
“Let’s have a full-bodied Spanish red, just like Señorita Picante!” Alejandro planted a kiss on Joe’s jaw and rose from the sofa. “Then I’ll throw on my most extravagant fringed shorts and we can hop into bed!”
Joe’s heart leapt. So he was going to do it. At last. Go to bed with a man.
“Are my shorts okay? They don’t have fringes but I like to call them my Fighting Pants. Y’know, ready for anything in my boxers.”
“Maybe one day, when Fuckface is safely locked away, I’ll see what you’re ready for out of them.” Alejandro winked and took a wine bottle and corkscrew from an ornate cabinet. He plunged the corkscrew into the neck and twisted it then gave a few experimental pulls before he turned to Joe and in a voice that was more Paloma than Alejandro asked, “Will you help a girl in trouble, Officer?”
“That’s what I’m here for, Ms Picante.” Joe stood behind Alejandro and reached around him, holding the bottle and the corkscrew with Alejandro. “Ready for a bit of a tug?”
“Thank heavens for those muscles,” Alejandro purred seductively. “You might need to pull super hard.”
Joe brushed his lips against Alejandro’s ear. “Really, really hard.”
With a soft grunt, Joe pulled the corkscrew and with a pop the bottle was opened. “I think we’ve earned ourselves a drink!”
“In bed, Osito?”
“Well, yes.” Joe kissed Alejandro’s ear. “Which side do you sleep on?”
“In the middle, like a glamorous starfish, but I’ll fit around you.” He pecked a kiss to Joe’s cheek. “I just need to change!”
Joe let Alejandro out of his arms then, after standing at the foot of the bed feeling puzzled as to how they managed to find sheets that were big enough to fit it, he placed the bottle on a side table and kicked off his shoes. Then he carefully took off his new suit and draped it over a priceless gilt-edged chair with his shirt and his covert vest. Dressed only in his shorts, Joe climbed into the huge bed.
Usually the thought of anything forbidden repelled Joe, the good copper, but he stretched his arms above his head, happy to be reckless. And very happy to have an audience.
Alejandro, having watched the impromptu show appreciatively, blew a kiss towards Joe, making no secret of the way he was sweeping his eyes over his bodyguard’s exposed torso. He put two crystal glasses down beside the bed then, with a pause just to ruffle Joe’s hair, he gave a coquettish wave and stepped behind a chinoiserie screen. Joe was perfectly content to listen to the sound of Alejandro’s melodic hum as he studied the screen, on which lacquered fish darted and weaved through colourful underwater plants. Perfect for Alejandro and Paloma, bright, beautiful and exotic. When Alejandro emerged, he was dressed only in the fringed shorts that Joe had packed for him, scarlet tassels swirling around his hips.
The scarlet shorts that Alejandro had put in his list, presumably because the turquoise ones were in the wash.
Joe propped himself up on his elbow to watch Alejandro. “Have you ever worn those on stage?”
“Should I?” He gave a twirl. “I’ve got lots of colours!”
“You should!
They’re very…” Joe murmured as he toyed with the tassel on the corner of his pillow, his gaze never leaving Alejandro. “They’re very exciting.”
“They give a boy hips,” Alejandro confided, another twirl setting the fringes twirling again. “Can I join you, Sarge?”
“Please do.” Joe rolled over and peeled back the sheets for Alejandro. And, of course, there it was. “I know we need to keep this platonic, but the contents of my shorts missed the memo. So…pretend there’s nothing going on down there. It’s those fringes of yours, Alejo, and those lovely bare feet.”
“Have you bought your truncheon?” Alejandro climbed in beside him and pulled the sheets up. Then he turned onto his side, fixed Joe with a gaze filled with mischief and asked, “Do you like my tassels?”
Joe slipped his arm around Alejandro’s waist, snuggling as close as he dared. Desire lanced through him and he wanted to kiss Alejandro into the pillow. Not yet, Sergeant! “Truncheon ready and correct, sir. And those tassels…“
Joe stroked down from Alejandro’s waist to cup his fringe-covered buttock. “What a perfect way to clothe a bottom!”
“I feel safe with you. Like nothing bad could get near me.” Alejandro’s voice was gentle.
Joe touched the tip of his nose to Alejandro’s, the scent of Alejandro’s exotic cologne filling the air between them. “Nothing can. I won’t let it.”
“I’ve struggled, Joe,” he admitted quietly. “When Papá died, it was like the world ended. It was easier to play the brat so it didn’t hurt so much. But if someone like you likes me then I feel like maybe, well, maybe Alejandro’s pretty good too. Like Paloma’s not the only one who deserves to feel fierce.”
“Alejo, you’re wonderful.” Joe relinquished Alejandro’s exotically clad bottom and played with his hair. “That bratty exterior is armour. It’s like that vest I wear. But you don’t always need it. If you can be fierce when you’re Paloma, then you can be fierce when you’re Alejo.”
The Reluctant Royal Page 21