“Lord Audacious. He sort of has his head in the clouds. He’s an artist and a rather gifted one if the rumors are correct. Some of the maids and footmen were going on about a portrait he did of the king’s consort. The whole staff has a bit of a crush on Raleigh. And who can blame them. The man is gorgeous. Lord Aiden looks a lot like him. Don’t you think?”
Nate started to inform Trouble that Aiden was much more attractive, but grunted instead. Who knew what his son would do if he thought Nate had a thing for Aiden. It didn’t bare thinking on. “What else? Do you know anything about Payton shutting Jeffers off?”
“Nah, just that Tarren had something on him and blackmailed him into doing it.”
Interesting. “See if you can find out what he used to blackmail him with. Anything else?”
Trouble shook his head and yawned, lying back on the bed. “Nope, other than daily operation stuff. All the servants were here the day the guns disappeared, but no one saw anything unusual.”
“Figures. All right, I’m going downstairs. Go to bed.”
“Okay.” Trouble scooted to the middle of the bed and started plumping pillows.
“Your bed.”
Groaning and mumbling, Trouble got off the bed and headed toward the valet’s room. “You should have to sleep in here, Hawk. You’re the one who makes sure we’re both dressed right, not me.” He shut the door, still grumbling about how small and uncomfortable the bed was.
Nate made a mental note to see about getting the pest a softer bed.
It was quiet downstairs, all the servants having gone to bed, which suited Nate fine. He didn’t want to be bothered. Slipping into the study, he went to the desk. “Jeffers?”
“Yes, Lord Deverell?”
“Please secure the room.”
“Yes, sir. The room is secured. You will be notified if anyone approaches it.”
Nate sat in the chair behind the desk, stretching. What a night. It had been forever since he’d gone to a ball. Oddly, he’d enjoyed it. He’d expected this entire ordeal to be nothing but a pain in the ass, but he was finding it rather refreshing. As much as he hated to admit it, given the circumstances of him leaving, he missed home. He missed his father and Jared, he even missed the attention that came from being the Duke of Hawthorne’s heir. As strange as Regelence’s customs were, it was too bad he hadn’t been born here. His sex life would have suffered, but he’d still be an earl and he’d still have his family. If only Englor had been more open-minded and accepted all types of relationships, not just the norm. Sighing, he ran his hands over his face. It didn’t matter. That wasn’t his life. He was an IN captain and he was here on a mission.
Scooting back from the desk, he looked for a button to bring up the access panel to the house computer. There had to be one, because there was a hairline seam in the top of the desk. Ah, there on the inside of the opening. Nate pushed the button, and a screen came up. Where was the keypad? The computer was voice controlled, but he’d need a keypad and thumb scanner to access it. “Jeffers, where is the keypad?”
“Top left-hand drawer, milord.”
He opened the drawer, punched in the numbers Raleigh had given him and pressed his thumb to the scanner. Thankfully, his print had been added to the system earlier.
Jeffers acknowledged him as soon as he set his thumb down. “Welcome, sir. What can I help you with?”
Nate shut the drawer and got comfortable. “Jeffers, please show me the video you have of the basement right before you were taken offline and right after you were brought back online.”
A video of an empty corridor flashed onto the screen. It looked like an ordinary hallway with mahogany wainscoting, pale wallpaper above and sconces interspaced throughout. Except for the color of the wallpaper it could have been the hallway outside of Nate’s room, but there were only two other doors, one to the left and one at the end.
“Jeffers, where is the room with the weapons in relation to this shot?”
“The camera is over its door, milord.”
“Show me.”
The screen changed. It looked to be the same hallway, only it was a shot of double steel doors and a single door to the right of it. On one of the double doors and on the single door were thumb scanners and keypads. Both entries needed security clearance.
“The double doors lead to the storage room?”
“Yes, milord.”
“Where does the other door go?”
“My maintenance room.”
Nate yawned again, then focused back on the single door. That was more than likely where Jeffers’ off button was. “Let me see all the shots in this general vicinity before and after you were out of commission.”
The next shot was of the inside of the storage room. Three flights of stairs led down into the huge storeroom where large wooden crates lined the walls. There was a large metal cargo door along the far wall. The screen continued to change views, showing the same room. There appeared to be only two points of entry, the doors leading into the hallway and the cargo door. The video suddenly went dead. When it came on again it started where it had left off. When Jeffers showed him the first shot again, Nate noticed the door on the left was partially opened. “Jeffers, where does the open door lead?”
“Into the main house.”
“And where does the other doorway lead?”
“Into the servants’ corridor.”
“Can you show me the other side of the door, before the outage?”
“Yes, milord.”
The computer showed another hallway, this one with dark green wallpaper above the wainscoting. There were three doors spaced evenly along one side and two doors on the other. Nate frowned. There was no activity in the hallway. Which didn’t mean much, Jeffers was off for nearly two hours. The theft could have happened anytime during that time. “The camera is above the door leading to the basement?”
“Yes, milord.”
“Are there any other views of this hallway?”
“No, milord.”
“Damn. What is this hallway?”
“It is the corridor outside the princes’ suites.”
He wondered which one was Aiden’s, then quickly dismissed the thought. “Show me this hallway immediately after you regained power.”
The monitor blinked, indicating the picture had changed, but the screen was the same as the prior one. There was no activity in the hallway or any sign that anyone had gone to the access panel. Why wasn’t Payton in any of the prior shots if he was responsible for Jeffers’ hiatus? “Is there any video of the inside of Payton’s room?”
“No, milord. I only have audio access to the bedchambers and no information is recorded like it is in the public areas.”
Interesting. “Which rooms belong to what prince?” Nate didn’t want to think too much about how he’d phrased that question. He only needed to know the location of Payton’s room.
“The rooms on the right, starting at the closest, belong to Rexley, Tarren and Colton. On the left are Payton and Aiden’s rooms.”
So Payton and Aiden were next door to each other. “Do you have thermal access to this hallway?”
“No, milord, I only have full access to the public and secure areas. I have video and audio to the private corridors.”
He knew it was Payton who flipped the switch. He really didn’t need to know how, but he’d have felt better if he could see it. “Do you have full access to the servants’ hallway?”
“Yes, milord.”
“Show me the servants’ hallway leading to the basement directly before and after the shutdown.”
A narrow white passageway came on the screen. There were doors interspaced throughout it. It was empty. The screen blacked out and came on again. The hallway appeared the same except there was a door partially open. “Jeffers, where does that open door lead?”
“The valet chambers adjoining Lord Aiden’s room.”
Nate closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. His gut instinct said the man was inn
ocent of anything involving the IN investigation, but he kept turning up in the oddest places. Aiden made him desperately want to be the trusting man he’d been before he left home. He made Nate want a normal life, the life he’d left. But Nate wasn’t that man anymore. He was a captain, in charge of a whole ship full of people…in charge of this investigation. Resorting back to his old life wasn’t an option. That unquestioning, relaxed attitude led only to heartache, he knew that. So what if no one had ever stirred the feelings Aiden inspired.
Love at first sight? Nate groaned, sitting back up and opening his eyes. Complete and utter bullshit. It was a case of him not having gotten laid in forever. He had to get Aiden out of his mind. But the coincidences were just too many to ignore—Aiden spying on him, the vow of secrecy he’d tried to extract from Nate, and now this, his door being open. It was coincidental, he knew it was—it had to be—the king and his consort were good men, he couldn’t see them raising a traitor. Somehow Aiden was tied into this case and Nate was going to find out why, whether his idiot body and mind liked it or not.
He couldn’t sleep. Aiden rolled over and plumped his pillow again, trying to get comfortable. It was no use, his prick was so hard it ached. Getting those laughing chestnut brown eyes out of his mind was a lost cause. Nathaniel’s smile, the heat of his body when he was near, his powerful shoulders and intimidating height, the way he smelled, it all haunted Aiden, refusing to let him doze off.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had as much fun. Dancing with Nathaniel had made him feel special, not just one of the royal brats. Deverell had truly been interested in his art. It was something they had in common. The attention had nothing to do with Aiden’s title and everything to do with mutual attraction. Nathaniel saw Aiden as a person, and Aiden liked what he saw in Nate.
Aiden pressed his hips into the mattress, trying to get some relief. What would those big, strong hands feel like wrapped around his cock? Aiden groaned. Nathaniel wasn’t the only one who saw what he liked. The man made Aiden want things he shouldn’t. Realizing he was grinding his prick into the bed, he stopped. He flopped over onto his back, his cock throbbing. The heck with it, it wasn’t going away.
Snaking his hand underneath the covers, he lifted his sleep shirt. If his valet caught him, he’d get another lecture on how he shouldn’t touch himself and how he should save it for his future consort, but Aiden couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. Benson was asleep and the door adjoining their rooms was closed—he wasn’t likely to come in Aiden’s room at this time of night without being summoned. Wrapping a hand around his erection, he tightened his grip. Ah. He stroked up, then back down. What if Nate were his consort? Would they do this together?
Nathaniel’s prick would be as big as the rest of him, Aiden just knew it. The earl’s arms would feel good holding him. They’d kiss the whole time they touched each other, their fingers exploring, driving each other mad. Aiden’s hand sped up. His testicles pulled closer to his body. There was a little tingly sensation at the base of his spine.
Using his thumb to rake over the tip, Aiden squeezed harder. He imagined Nathaniel’s fist around him, Nathaniel talking to him in that low deep voice, encouraging him to take his pleasure. Then they would rub against each other like Aiden sometimes did against the mattress. All that bare skin—Nathaniel would be so warm and hard. Using his other hand, Aiden pinched a nipple, making it stiffen. Maybe Nathaniel would take the nipple into his mouth? Aiden trembled and moaned at the thought. Nathaniel would suck and bite. Then he’d lick and nibble his way down Aiden’s chest, swirl his tongue around Aiden’s navel. Continuing downward, his lips would brush across Aiden’s prick—
“Unh.” Aiden’s eyes flew open, his body convulsing as his climax rushed out of him. Semen shot against the sheet. The heated spunk oozed down his shaft, over his hand, onto his stomach.
Aiden gasped, surprised. The image of Nathaniel’s mouth on his prick should have scandalized him, but it didn’t. He’d heard Rexley and Payton, having caught two of their footmen in the act, whispering about it once. Aiden shivered.
Climbing out of bed, careful not to let his shirt fall into the mess on his stomach, he went to the washroom to clean up. He brought a wet cloth back and cleaned the top sheet to avoid Benson’s lecture when the bedding was changed. After returning the cloth to the hamper in the washroom, he got in the other side of the bed, avoiding the wet spot. He lay there for several minutes, waiting for the usual drowsiness that a release brought. It didn’t happen. His mind kept conjuring images of Nathaniel and the things they could do together.
Maybe if he drew a little it would help clear his mind so he could sleep. He got up and padded to the chest at the foot of his bed where he kept his sketchscreens. He wanted his large one, the one he’d taken to the docks. He’d work on the water compulsion system under the boats…anything but Deverell. Thinking about the earl was what was keeping him awake—drawing the man wasn’t likely to help any.
Where was his large screen? There were paints, a conventional sketch pad, some oil crayons, graphite pencils, charcoal, even a small folding easel, but none of his screens were there. The small one he’d taken to the ball was on the nightstand, the medium one was in the dressing room. Aiden frowned. He hadn’t seen his large screen in several days. Thomas had taken it to Aiden’s room the day he’d gone to the docks, so why wasn’t it here? Maybe Thomas had gotten busy and left it elsewhere. “Jeffers, do you know where my large sketchscreen is?”
“No, milord.”
Hmmm. Well, he knew where his medium screen was. Aiden shut the trunk lid and went to the dressing room. He found the sketchscreen right where Payton had left it, on the chaise. He went back to his room and climbed into bed with the screen. “Jeffers, did you download the information from my large screen?”
“Yes, milord, as you requested. All data on your screens are updated and synchronized into your files upon leaving and entering the castle.”
“Upload the sketches from the large screen onto my medium screen, please.” Aiden hit the on button then glanced at the small screen on his nightstand. He sighed. What the heck. Maybe if he finished the sketch of Nathaniel he’d started at the ball, he’d get the man off his mind. “Jeffers, also add the data off my small screen onto the medium one.”
“Yes, milord.”
Why did the man have to be so…so…so compelling? Captivating? Bloody black hole, the man was becoming an obsession. He’d like to think it was from strictly an artistic standpoint—and it was, partially. He’d initially forgotten their dance because he’d had the urge to draw the man laughing. The image of Nathaniel’s smiling face, when he was talking to Cony, was permanently etched in his brain. The man didn’t seem to be the type to smile a lot. Aiden’s prick regained interest at the thought, making him groan.
“Lord Aiden, the data transfer is complete.”
Aiden started. “Thanks, Jeffers.” He toggled through his files and found the one he’d begun at the ball. The one Nathaniel almost saw. Aiden had nearly jumped out of his skin when the man had appeared before him. He’d been completely caught up in rendering the laugh lines around the man’s eyes when he smiled.
Maybe Cony and Father had a point about him having a one-track mind when it came to his art. He’d almost missed the chance of a lifetime, the chance to dance with Nathaniel. Luckily, the man himself had shown up to remind Aiden of their dance. He’d never forget that dance, it had been miraculous. He hadn’t wanted to leave the man’s company. Darn Rupert. Aiden desperately wanted to learn more about the earl. He wanted to know why the man was here. How long would he be staying? Would he pose for a portrait? How did his lips taste?
Aiden shook himself away from that line of thinking. Finding the sketch he’d done of Nathaniel earlier, he removed the stylus from the side of the screen. The man was so mysterious looking, like a dashing hero out of the romance novels Tarren was addicted to. What would it have been like if he’d let Nathaniel kiss him when he’d ca
ught him from the tree? He was certain that was exactly what the earl had intended. Then this evening… He should be glad Rupert interrupted when he did.
This was getting him nowhere. His prick was on its way to throbbing, already fully erect again after the session with his hand.
Turning off the screen, he put the stylus away. Maybe food would help get his mind off Deverell.
Aiden climbed from the mattress and dug underneath his bed for his slippers. He should probably put a dressing gown on over his sleep shirt, but everyone had long since retired for the evening. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d run in to anyone in the kitchen—the staff was asleep and other than Payton or Cony, no one else would be caught dead there. If his other brothers or Father wanted something to eat at this time of night, they had Jeffers wake someone to bring it to them.
Thankfully, by the time he made it down the stairs, his wayward cock calmed down. He reached the bottom of the main steps and took two steps toward the dining room, intent on going through the servants’ entrance to the kitchen, when he heard talking. Aiden paused and listened. Jeffers was talking to someone in the study. He thought about going back upstairs to put on more proper attire, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek. Tiptoeing toward the study, he heard Nathaniel’s voice. Immediately his stupid prick decided it wanted to perk up and listen to the smooth intonation too. Aiden looked down, hoping his problem wasn’t noticeable in the billowy calf-length shirt.
It was.
“Milord, Lord Aiden is outside the study.”
Aiden froze. Dust. Before his brain clicked back on and told him to run, Nathaniel appeared in the doorway.
“Hello, Aiden.”
“Uh…” Aiden peered up at the object of his fixation. His pulse actually sped up and his stomach got a fluttery feeling. He was standing here in his nightclothes, completely indecent with an erection straining against his shirt. “Hi. I was just…” He nodded. He had to get out of here before Nathaniel noticed his plight. Galaxy, the man was big. Aiden was ultra-aware of the man after that little fantasy earlier. He glanced at the big hands he’d imagined wrapped around—
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