“I can tell. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this animated.”
Maris sobered instantly.
Ture frowned at his reaction. “Did I hit a nerve?”
Maris raked his hands through his wet hair. Damn...he had the most perfect features of any man Ture had ever seen.
“Ghosts. Sorry. I try to keep them hidden, but sometimes they pop out at the worst times.”
Ture swam closer to him. “Yeah, I know all about those.”
Maris swallowed as Ture touched his shoulder in sympathy. The heat of his hand combined with the look on Ture’s face held him immobile. He knew he should pull back. Yet he couldn’t get his body to cooperate.
Not when all he really wanted to do was swim closer.
Before he could move, Ture captured his lips with his own. Maris growled at the sweet taste of him. It’d been way too long since he’d been this close to anyone except Darling. Every hormone in his body went into overdrive, and it was all he could do not to show Ture exactly how limber and powerful he was in water.
His breathing labored, Maris nipped Ture’s chin as long-buried fantasies about having sex in the water surged. Since his people killed anyone who wasn’t heterosexual and he’d never dared to let anyone know about this side of him, he’d only been naked with a lover in water in his dreams.
But now. . . .
Don’t go there.
Ture couldn’t breathe as he felt the full power of Maris in his arms. Somehow, Maris managed to hold them both steady in the water.
For as long back as Ture could remember, he’d dreamed of having a hot, masculine warrior of his own. But never had he thought to meet one who could be so incredibly skilled in war and yet tender to others. All his past soldiers had been as vicious to him as they’d been to their victims. Maris was the strangest dichotomy of brutal killer and playful charmer. At times, it was like two men inhabited his lush body.
And Ture found both of them delectable.
Maris deepened the kiss then pulled back. His breathing heavy, he skimmed Ture with a look that only made him hungrier. “We can’t do this.”
Ture pressed his cheek to Maris’s. “I know, sweetie. I’m sorry...I couldn’t resist you.” He placed a chaste kiss to him then moved away.
Maris ground his teeth as he watched Ture return to his physical therapy routine. The fact that Ture understood and agreed made him all the more alluring. It was rare to find someone who was willing to put the needs of others above their own. That was the heart and soul of Darling that had kept Maris bound to him all these years. Why he’d never been able to walk away from his best friend even when he knew he should.
Because that was his life’s blood, too. He would never fight for himself. He couldn’t care less what happened to him. He only fought for who and what he loved.
Darling, above all others, for the simple fact that Darling had bled for him on more than one occasion.
The rest was a short list made up of the only brother Maris had who still spoke to him—Safir, Darling’s immediate family, the Sentella and Caillen Dagan.
Now Ture stood to inherit that small circle. But not if he broke Maris’s heart. And though he would give anything to let Ture in, he knew better. He’d been down this bloody path too many times. As soon as his lovers realized that they could never supplant Darling in his heart, they turned on him with a justified hatred.
Maris couldn’t help how he felt. Darling owned him. He always had. Even though they could and would never be anything more than best friends, Darling was his heart. He’d been there for Maris when no one else had. When the entire universe had slammed down on him and no one had cared, Darling, alone, had traversed hell itself to save Maris’s life.
He shuttered every time he thought of where he’d be without his noble prince. If he’d even be alive.
Sighing, he lifted himself out of the water to sit on the edge of the pool while Ture continued swimming. Memories surged as he reached for a towel. Even now, he could see Darling the day they’d met as tiny kids on a playground.
Because of his young age, Maris had been cloistered on Phrixus and hadn’t fully learned the Universal language. For that matter, he’d barely known how to walk. One day, he’d been a caudate, learning about his own people and laws, and the next he’d been ripped out of his world and sent to exist among humans and their strange, foreign rules. Rules that had baffled and scared him.
His father’s only dictate for behavior had been harsh. Shame or betray us and I’ll cut out your heart myself and feed it to you before you die. One word that you’ve violated any human code or custom, and you will be put down for it.
The man had not been joking or exaggerating.
Barely five years old, Maris had been terrified of making a single mistake.
And even now, all these years later, he saw Lord Trustan’s beady eyes as he’d given Maris his new code of conduct. You so much as breathe on one of our children, or do any act of violence against any human and you will be sent home to your father in pieces. Understood?
The moment Trustan had said those words, his own sons had known Maris was fair game for their abuse.
And they’d bled him well for no other reason than his people had been at war with theirs for centuries.
By the time school had started, Maris had been a well-used doormat who hadn’t dared to fight back for fear of what his family would do for the “dishonor,” or Trustan either, for that matter.
Trustan’s eldest son, Crispin, had been the one who’d chased him across the schoolyard that fateful day. While Maris hadn’t really understood the insults they’d yelled, he knew the misery of being punched and slapped while being unable to strike back.
Tired of it all, he’d been praying for death when out of nowhere a boy half his size had slammed into Crispin and knocked him away from Maris.
Like some mythical hero, Darling had beat the bastard down and told him that he better never touch Maris again. Then he’d turned around, bleeding and bruised, and extended his hand to Maris. “Hi, I’m Darling Cruel. We should be friends.” In that heartbeat, Maris had fallen head over heels in love with him. And he’d been that way ever since.
He’d never met anyone who came close to Darling’s loyalty, kindness, or generous spirit.
Until Ture.
For Zarya, he’d put his life on the line without hesitation. A woman who wasn’t family, but a friend he’d loved and placed above himself. There weren’t many people who would do such a thing for anyone.
It didn’t hurt that Ture had one of the hottest bodies he’d seen in awhile, too. Best of all, Ture hadn’t freaked out over Maris’s “uniqueness.”
Ture swam over to him and boldly put his hand on the edge of the pool, right between Maris’s slightly parted thighs. “Can I call it a day yet?”
It wasn’t easy to understand those words as a fantasy went through his mind and left his brain devoid of all blood flow. “Um, yeah.”
Gah, I hope I didn’t just promise to buy him something really expensive....
Ture moved away and pulled himself out of the pool next to him. He grabbed a towel and started drying his hair. A handsome mixture of frown and smile came over his face. “It doesn’t take you long to change back, does it?”
Maris looked down at his normal “flesh” tone. “No. Within a few minutes of leaving the water, we return to a human appearance.”
“What about sweating? Does that turn you?”
Maris shook his head. “It has to be full submersion. The only real danger of accidental exposures are torrential downpours.
Ture took his hand into his and examined it. “That’s just so neat. Does it hurt at all when you change?”
“No. We don’t even notice, really.”
“It must suck, though.”
“How so?”
“Unless you’re with a Phrixian, you can’t shower with your lover.”
Maris quirked a smile. “A definite hardship in the past. I’ve offended s
everal men over it.”
Ture pulled him to his feet then hugged him close. “Thank you for saving my life...both times.”
Maris forced himself to release Ture as he stepped away. His body hard and aching, he watched as Ture went to dress.
Hunger settled deep in his stomach, but he knew better. No good could come of dating Ture. It would be a titanic mistake.
Sighing, Maris had just finished pulling his shirt and jacket on when Darling came into the room. He drew up short as he saw Maris’s wet pants.
His jaw slack, he quickly turned to see that Ture was gone. “What happened?”
Maris towel dried his hair. “He almost drowned. I jumped in to save him.”
“So Ture knows?”
Maris nodded.
Which caused Darling to frown. “You okay, bud?”
Maris paused as he thought about how to best answer. “Honestly? I don’t know. He didn’t really react to it...which is good, I guess.”
Darling cracked a knowing grin. “But bad?”
Maris laughed at Darling’s ability to read him so well. “For my sanity, yes. It is terrible.”
“Why? He’s available... You’re available.”
Not really and that was the problem. His heart only wanted to love one man—Darling. “Yeah, but when we break up, it’s going to be rough to have to see him whenever he’s with Zarya. I like having boyfriends I can walk away from and never lay eyes on again. You know?”
“Since the only girlfriend I’ve ever had is my wife, not really. But I respect your decision. I always have.”
“And that’s why I love you.” Maris kissed Darling on his cheek then went to change pants.
But as he left, his thoughts turned to the one thing he’d always wanted yet never had found.
Someone who would be with him forever. That one person who could hold his heart in his hands and not shatter it.
CHAPTER 5
Maris walked around Ture’s bedroom with a lump in his stomach. He’d known in the beginning that as soon as Ture was healed, he’d return home and that he wouldn’t see him except for occasional visits with Zarya. And while that had seemed acceptable to him at the time...
Now...
He really missed him and he’d only been gone for a week. But it was the longest week of Maris’s life. Worse, he felt like something was now missing. How sad was that?
I am pathetic.
Honestly, he should leave here and find his own place to live. Darling didn’t need him anymore. He had Zarya now and the two of them spent most of their time together. Which was how it should be. A man’s spouse should be his primary focus.
But it left Maris terribly lonely. Ture had been a nice distraction for him. They had eaten together and talked about absolutely nothing for hours on end. Watched old movies...
Maris sighed wistfully. The only trouble was he had nowhere else to go. He was dead to his family. Because of the species differences and the fact that he was jaded to a frightening level, he didn’t really have friends, except for the Sentella who were all married.
Not Hauk.
He smiled at the thought. Hauk was probably the only person who made him look optimistic by comparison. And while he adored the gargantuan Andarion, they were far too different to hang out on a regular basis. Other than gaming and mutual friends, they had nothing in common.
His link buzzed. Maris started to ignore it, but as soon as he looked down, he saw Ture’s ID. A smile broke out before he could stop it.
He answered immediately.
Ture cleared his throat. “Hey...I um...how are you?”
Maris smiled even wider at the hesitancy in Ture’s voice. “Fine.” Missing you like crazy. He caught himself before he said that out loud. Absolutely no good could come from Ture knowing just how much Maris longed for his company. “How are you?”
“Fine.”
A sudden awkward silence filled the line as Maris tried to think of something half intelligent to say that wouldn’t make him appear like some lovesick idiot. “How’s your apartment?”
“Fine.”
More awkwardness.
“How’s Zarya?” Ture asked.
Maris slipped out of the room and returned to his own. He knew Ture couldn’t see him unless he turned on the video feed, but for some reason it felt weird to be in Ture’s guestroom while talking to him. “She’s very well. Stressed a little from the magnitude of planning a state wedding to ensure the legitimacy of her baby, but...she’s much better.”
“Good.”
Maris bit his lip. He had no idea why this was so difficult. They’d never had trouble speaking to each other before and yet—
This sucked.
“So, Mari, I was wondering... I know how much you like good food...”
He cringed in fear of having to turn Ture down for a date.
“Tonight, the special at my restaurant is Chipped Oryan. Since I know it’s one of your favorite dishes and you like eating here, I wanted to let you know. If you’re interested, I can hold a table for you. It’s our busiest night and I won’t be able to say more than a passing hello while you dine, but I have to tell you that I make the best in the Nine Worlds. You will cry to your mother at how good it is, and I’ll spoil you from ever eating anyone else’s.”
Maris laughed at an invitation he couldn’t refuse. “Sure,” he said before he could stop himself. “I’d love to see if you’re half the chef you claim to be.”
“Oh, baby, I’m better.”
Maris sucked his breath in at the endearment. He didn’t know why, but the sound of Ture’s accent whenever he was flippant and sweet...
It made his mouth water.
“So what time should I tell them to expect you?” Ture asked.
“Eight?”
“Perfect. I’m entering it in right now. They’ll have the table all ready for you when you get here. Just give them your name.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. Later.”
Maris cut the transmission then slid the link into his pocket and checked the time.
All right, I have six hours. He’d best start dressing now or he’d be late.
* * *
Maris hesitated as he saw the long line of people waiting to get into the restaurant where Ture worked. But then it was always like this. He knew from his past visits that Ture was a great chef. So much so that it was almost half an hour just to reach the maitre d’ stand.
The man didn’t even look up from his e-ledger. “Reservation name?”
“Maris Sulle.”
“With an S?”
“Yes.”
With a withering snobbiness that would make one of Darling’s senators proud, the man glanced over his ledger. “Sorry.” Snide overrode pity as he finally glanced up and raked Maris with a haughty curled lip that said he suspected Maris was lying about having a reservation. “There’s no Sulle. Is there another name it might be under?”
Maris swallowed as embarrassment filled him, and he hated the man for making him feel it in front of so many people.
Had he mistaken the night? Or had Ture forgotten to add him, after all? “Could you check again?”
The maitre d’ raked him with an even snottier sneer. “I am highly literate...in multiple languages. Your name is not here.”
Maris went into his own round of military peerage snobbery. The one thing about his noble and warring family...no non aristo ever condescended to them.
At least not if he wanted to keep his testicles attached to his body.
“As am I. Perhaps it’s under one of my titles. Prince or Ambassador?”
That took the bastard down a bit. “Um...no, Highness. I still don’t see you listed. Sorry.” This time, at least, there was a modicum of sincerity to that word.
“Thank you.” Even though he felt extremely bitch-slapped, Maris gathered what little dignity he could and turned to leave.
As he reached the door, someone touched his arm. He
turned to find a tiny pregnant woman who barely reached the middle of his chest.
“Are you Maris, my lord?”
Still aware of the smug leering faces of those who’d seen his humiliation, he gave a curt nod.
She let out an exasperated breath. “I knew it when I saw you! You look just like Ture described you. I am so sorry Bertram’s a dumb ass. Please, come with me. Ture’s asked and asked all night if you were here yet.”
With those few words, she made him feel instantly better. “After you, madame.”
She smiled and turned to lead him back into the restaurant.
“Excuse me?” Bertram snapped as they started past his station. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She glared at him with an artificial smile. “Hopefully to save your job and your stupid ass. Instead of giving me attitude, you should be saying, thank you.”
Color suffused his cheeks.
She reached past Bertram to show the handwritten note that was taped to this stand. Jerking it loose, she slapped it against his chest and left it to hang there. “Lord Maris is a personal friend of Ture’s, you moron. He’d have chewed your rump for dessert had I not come out of the restroom in time to catch sight of the man he told all of us to keep our eyes open for. Remember the meeting?”
Paling considerably, he looked at the paper, then to Maris. “I am so incredibly sorry. I—I—I—”
“Keep sputtering,” she said, “then find us when you finally have an intelligent thought again.” She turned back to Maris with a friendly, heartfelt smile. “Please, my lord, come with me.”
Maris offered her his arm.
She took it and led him into the restaurant and then to his complete confusion, through the double doors and into the commercial kitchen area. Really uncomfortable, he slowed down.
Without a word, she pulled him toward a far corner in the rear where a table was set even nicer than the ones for their clientele. She pulled a padded chair out for him. “My name’s Anachelle. What can I get for you to drink, my lord?”
So this was the woman Ture had taken in. As Ture had predicted, Maris understood now why Ture had been so kind to her. Something about her was very kind and sweet, and it wasn’t just because she’d gallantly saved his ego. “The dry house wine.”
Cloak & Silence (The League) Page 6