"Oh sweetie..."
Maris savored the lack of condemnation as Ture brushed his hand through his hair and kissed him lightly on the lips.
"I'm so sorry, Mari. How long were you there?"
"Longer than I want to admit to. I'd probably still be there had Darling not busted hell itself open to find me, risking his own safety with his uncle to do so. By the time he located me, I was so high and sick I didn't even recognize him."
But Maris would never forget the sight of Darling as he wrapped a blanket around Maris to cover his naked body on that soiled, disgusting bed in the room where he'd been imprisoned and chained. Furious over what had been done to Maris against his will, Darling had held him close to his chest. He'd been equally as furious that Maris had failed to go to him when he needed help.
"Darling held me to his heart and told me that he was taking me home with him, slaver be damned. That he would never let me suffer so long as he lived. And he had to fight hard to get me free. Trained whores are worth a lot of money. They sent everything they had to stop him." And Darling had cut through them and carried Maris out.
He smiled down at Ture. "As a token of my eternal gratitude for rescuing me, I threw up all over him on the way home. He didn't say a single word about it. Instead, he took me to his friend Nykyrian and they, with Syn, nursed me back to health. And as soon as I was safe, Darling found the guy who'd sold me and the slaver who'd owned the brothel and tore them apart."
"For that alone, I love Darling."
Maris scoffed. "You say that now..."
Ture rose up to stare down at him. "I will always say it, Mari. He saved you for me. I owe him for that."
Still, Maris didn't believe it. He'd had too many guys tell him that they would never be jealous of Darling and in time, none of them had been able to tolerate the fact that if Darling called for him, he'd go without hesitation.
Day or night.
He owed Darling too much not to.
Maris pulled Ture against him and cradled his head against the center of his chest. He shifted slightly so that Ture's body lay between his legs. "What about you? How did your parents react when they found out?"
"As well as yours. My dad slung everything I owned onto the lawn and set fire to it. Then they moved and made sure I didn't have their new address. They were mortified at the thought of anyone learning the truth, so they told all our friends and family that I'd died. They even held a funeral."
Maris flinched as raw anger went through him. He'd never understand the cruelty of others. Especially not against their own children. "You're kidding?"
Ture shook his head.
Maris sighed in sympathetic pain. "My mother burned my birth registration and my father had all my records deleted from the Phrixian government files. There for a time, I couldn't get anything...couldn't even rent a place to live. Poor Syn had to forge me all new records. But it's okay. He shaved two years off my age for me."
Ture laughed. "Are you serious?"
Smiling, he nodded. "I have great friends."
"And I have an incredible lover." Ture scooted up to kiss him.
Maris closed his eyes and cherished those words and the sensation of Ture's body on top of his. This was why he'd flitted from one lover to the next more often than most people changed their bedsheets. Keep relationships physical and short, with no real commitment or feelings. It was a lot easier than having his heart broken. But to be honest, he'd kill for the comfort of knowing the person with him wouldn't let him go. That he was their world and would remain so, forever.
Just once.
Rolling to his side then scooting back in bed, Ture spooned against him. Maris smiled as he buried his face against the nape of Ture's neck and inhaled the warm scent of his skin. Honestly, he'd missed Ture more than he wanted to admit. Since Ture had returned home, Maris had felt strangely adrift. Like something was missing.
But that feeling was completely gone now. He felt better than he had in a long time.
Ture's head rested against his biceps and Maris's other arm was draped over Ture's ribs so that he could hold him close to his chest. Closing his eyes, he lost himself to this one perfect moment and tried not to think about the day that would come when Ture learned to hate him and storm out of his life.
But nothing ever lasted. Not the bad...
And especially not the good.
CHAPTER 6
Maris came awake to an empty bed, but the most incredible scent he'd ever smelled wafted through the room. It made his stomach rumble and cramp in hunger. Salivating, he left the bed and saw the robe that Ture had left draped over his clothes in a nearby chair.
He pulled it on then went to investigate the warm aroma. Cautious, he kept his eyes pealed for Anachelle who was either still barricaded in her room, or gone. Since he had as many scars on his legs as he did the rest of his body, he didn't like for others to see him. Had the hunger pangs not been so ferocious, he'd have dressed first.
Following his nose, he found Ture alone in the kitchen.
As if he sensed his presence, Ture turned with a smile. "Hey, sweetie. Did you sleep well?"
Amazingly, he had. "I did. You?"
"Like a baby." Ture placed a quick kiss on his lips then returned to his cooking.
"Where's Anachelle?"
"She left a few minutes ago for a doctor's appointment." He handed Maris a glass of juice. "Freshly squeezed, it's my own juice and spice blend that's guaranteed to wake up even the most diehard night owl."
Good luck with that. Not even military drills had managed that, hence about half his physical scars. But as Maris drank it, it did wake him, and it was delicious. "Damn, you are a god in the kitchen."
"I prefer goddess." Ture wagged his eyebrows proudly.
Smiling, he stepped closer. "Can I do anything to help?"
"Want to chop the onion?" Ture gestured toward the island where one waited.
Maris moved to the cutting board. Next to it, Ture had cubed a steak. He took the knife that was between the two items then reached for the onion.
Ture let out a squeal of protest. "Oh my God, stop! Don't move."
Baffled by the panic in Ture's tone, he frowned. "What?"
"I swear, you're as deadly in the kitchen as you are in battle."
Completely confused, Maris stared at him. "What?" he repeated.
Ture took the knife from his hand. "Cross contamination. Didn't your mother teach you anything?"
"Not about cooking. Princes aren't exactly allowed to do that. For that matter, I don't even know which part of our palace held the kitchen."
Ture paused. "I forgot for a minute that you were royalty. Anyway, you never use the same cutting board or knife on protein that you use on your vegetables. Gracious, man. You'll kill us all!"
Maris laughed at his indignation. "Sorry."
Ture squeezed his arm as he nudged Maris away from the uncooked food. "Can you scramble an egg?"
"I can try. Never done it before, but I am good at scrambling people's thoughts. How much harder is it to confuse a nonverbal egg?"
Ture shook his head. "Come here, and let me show you how it's done."
Maris obeyed. Ture pulled him to stand between him and the stove where a pan holding some oil was heating over an open flame. Taking his hand in his, Ture led it to the eggs and pulled one out. He showed Maris how to crack it with one hand and put it in the pan, then use a spatula to scramble it.
It was actually kind of neat.
Next, Ture showed him how to put the egg on a plate then he drizzled a reddish sauce over it. "Look, you now know how to cook."
Maris smiled proudly. "I can feed myself. Who knew?"
Suddenly, Ture grimaced. "Well, yes, you can cook an egg now, and die in the process."
"How so?"
Ture picked Maris's hand up and turned it to show the raw egg white on his skin. "Germs, baby. They're a more silent killer than the League's finest assassins." He pulled Maris over to the sink so that he could wash
it off.
To his surprise, Ture didn't move away. Rather he washed Maris's hands for him and toyed with the webbing that elongated from the prolonged water contact.
Maris held his breath at the sensation of Ture's fingers sliding in between his and over his skin and webbing that was always much more sensitive in his aquatic form. It raised chills all over him. And he noticed the change in Ture's breathing, too.
He turned the water off then slid his hand down Maris's chest, opening his robe so that he could skim his hand over Maris's skin. Sucking his breath in sharply, Maris leaned back in Ture's arms and cupped his head in his hand. He could feel how hard Ture was against his buttocks. "Remind me to always leave egg on my hand when I'm in your kitchen."
Ture laughed in his ear as he sank his hand down to gently stroke him while he pulled the robe from Maris's shoulders and dropped it to the floor. Reaching around to his back, Maris tugged Ture's pants down until he could return the favor. Ture tongued his ear, making him even hotter before Ture accepted the invitation and slid himself inside.
Maris growled in pleasure while Ture thrust against him and stroked his cock.
Ture's hot breath fell against his neck as he nibbled and toyed with his skin. Maris sucked his breath in sharply. "I love how you feel."
"You, too, baby." Ture laved his neck as he stroked him even faster.
"Oh shit. I thought you'd be alone."
They both froze at the sound of a masculine voice in the doorway. Tall, blond, and extremely handsome, the man appeared to be in his mid-twenties.
Ture stepped back immediately and jerked his pants up, then moved around to block the man's view of Maris who quickly grabbed the robe from the floor and put it on while he tried to calm his breathing.
"What the hell are you doing here, Bristol? You were supposed to meet me at the restaurant. Later."
"I couldn't wait to see you." His blue eyes went to Maris. They narrowed dangerously with a hatred that struck Maris like a physical blow. "I had no idea I'd be interrupting you with another man."
Ture growled low in his throat. "I'll be right back." He grabbed Bristol by the arm and hauled him out of the room.
Maris could hear them arguing in a low tone, which made him all the more curious about Bristol. Who was he?
Most importantly, what was he to Ture?
Had Ture lied to him about having another lover?
As Maris headed to the bedroom to shower, Bristol came out of Ture's office and arched a brow at him. He raked a penetrating grimace over Maris's body. "You look really familiar. Do you work at Ture's restaurant?"
"No."
"Bristol!" Ture barked. "Leave him alone and go. Now!"
"Yes, Your Royal Highness." Bristol turned back to Maris. "I hope he treats you better than he's treated me." With those parting vicious words, he left.
Ture came out of the office and froze as he caught the expression on Maris's face. He looked like he'd been kicked in the groin. But worse than his ghostly pallor was the hurt in his dark eyes.
Damn you, Bristol, you asshole!
When he reached to touch Maris, Maris stepped back.
"Mari, he's my brother," he said quickly. "I swear. He only comes around when he wants money from me."
Maris expelled an elongated breath as those words finally took the sting out of his hurt emotions. "Really?"
Ture nodded. "I have pictures of the little punk from our childhood, as well as family photos. I'll be more than happy to show them to you. He only said that to hurt you and lash out at me. He's a rank bastard like that. Here, I'll prove it." He started back for his office.
Maris caught his arm to stop him. "You don't have to get pictures. I believe you."
Ture reversed course and pulled Maris in for a hug. "I'm so sorry. I wouldn't have you hurt for anything and I might be a lot of things, but I don't cheat on others. Ever."
Maris squeezed him tight then stepped back. "If he's such an ass, why do you keep giving him money?"
"Because I'm stupid. My sister died when we were kids and as much as Bristol annoys me, I can't stand the thought of something happening to him. Besides, he's the only member of my family who still talks to me."
Maris kissed his head. "I'm sorry, baby."
Ture placed his head on Maris's shoulder. "Loyalty sucks."
"Only when it's given to the wrong person."
Ture wrapped his arms around him. "You know what my fear is, Mari?"
"No, sweetie."
"That you'll discover my Darling soon, and leave me like everyone else has."
He frowned as he tried to make sense of that. "Your Darling is your brother?"
"No. My restaurant. It absolutely consumes me, and it's why I've never kept a single boyfriend. At first, they all love the idea of getting into one of the most exclusive restaurants on the planet without a reservation, and eating for free. But after a few weeks or months, they get jealous and angry that I can't take more than a day off every couple of weeks. That it occupies my mind, night and day. That I spend almost all my waking time there. With you, men are jealous of another man. With me, it's an inanimate object that they don't comprehend."
Maris pulled back to smile at him. "I promise I will never get jealous over a building."
Ture laughed. "That's what they all say."
Maris ran his finger along Ture's jaw. "Burning passions, I get. You're a successful business owner. You can't just shut down and walk away. If the restaurant fails, you lose everything you have, and everything you've worked for. It should be your primary focus."
"You're the only one who's ever understood that."
Maris kissed him. "If that's your worst fear, put it away. I know what it takes to be successful, and I would never give you stress for taking care of business. It's like me when I was a soldier. You have to stay focused. You take your eyes off the mission and you lose your head. The last thing you need is an asshole giving you unnecessary drama for it."
"And that's why I love you, Mari."
Maris froze as those words hit him like a blow. He wanted to believe it. He did. But he couldn't. Too many people had hurt him. Love was so easy to profess. If it came too easy, then it died a quick death. He knew that.
Ture cupped his cheek. "I know, Mari. I see the fear in your eyes. Like you with my restaurant, I get it. But I will prove to you that I can share you with Darling and not be jealous. I accept the fact that I will never have the part of you that he does. Rather, I want to create my own place in your heart, and I will always have the one part of you that he doesn't."
"And that is?"
Ture smiled as he cupped Maris in his hand. "This luscious body that makes me insane with lust. I swear, even if I were straight, I'd crave you."
Maris captured his lips and held him close. Don't break my heart, Ture. But deep inside, he knew Ture would.
Sooner or later, all men did.
Even Darling.
CHAPTER 7
Ture froze as he took a minute to watch Maris interacting with his staff. For the last three weeks, they'd been together night and day, almost without interruption. It still amazed him that Maris had yet to get on his nerves. He'd never been with anyone for this amount of time without having at least one argument over something.
And the staff loved Mari.
Even Bertram, and Bertram hated everyone.
His hands covered by rubber gloves, Maris stood at the sink, helping to rinse dishes since one of the dishwashers had become ill and had to leave early. Dressed in his high neck black riding suit with white reflective stripes, Maris was an odd sight with the white apron covering it. The stitched quilted leather that protected Maris's body whenever he rode his airbike hugged every inch of his muscled physique and cupped his ass in a way that should be illegal. Damn, he looked so rugged and masculine that it was hard for Ture to breathe.
Best of all, Maris had started growing his hair out for Ture. And since he hadn't shaved in two days, he had a gorgeous shadow of whisker
s that didn't help Ture's hard-on in the least.
"You are so in love with him," Anachelle whispered as she paused by his side.
"That obvious?"
She nodded. "You are absolutely licking him with your eyes."
Laughing, Ture shook his head at her. "You're terrible."
"Hey, I'm not the one mentally molesting the poor man who's trying to wash dishes for you."
"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's a bad idea to harass your boss?"
"No. I must have missed that email." Wrinkling her nose playfully, she headed back to her corner to fold napkins and sort silverware.
Ture went over to the oven and pulled out his latest experiment. At least once a week, he tried something new. Luckily, it smelled good. He cut a small piece off and took it to Maris so he could be his guinea pig.
Maris pulled his gloves off before he dutifully opened his mouth and allowed Ture to place it on his tongue.
"Well?"
Maris chewed it then frowned.
Ah, crap. He'd never done that before. Ture deflated. "What's missing?"
"Something. . . ." Maris bent his head down and kissed him fiercely. Pulling back, he smiled. "Yeah, that was definitely the missing ingredient." He winked. "It's perfect. Delicious. You need to try it."
Ture handed him the fork to wash and had started back for the roast when he saw a waiter who looked like he was about to cry. He diverted course toward him. "What's wrong?"
Tyryn sighed. "Obnoxious customer."
His vision darkened at those words as Tyryn reached for two plates and set them on a serving tray. "Are those for that table?"
He nodded. "Maybe the fourth time's the charm."
"Fourth?"
"It was undercooked. Over cooked. And then too cold."
Ture took the tray from his hands. "Here, I'll deal with it. You take a half hour and unwind. I'll get Glee to cover your section . . . Which table?"
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