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If he could give Arthur a perfect night&
If he could show Arthur how easy it was to be with him&
If he could just prove to Arthur that he was worthy of the man s heart&
The sound of a carriage coming to a stop jolted him from his thoughts. He quickly crossed to one of the parlor windows and
looked down to the street. A smile curved his lips. Arthur had arrived.
Chapter Five
 I can take your coat for you.
 Thank you, Arthur said, setting his leather bag on the floor by his feet so he could shrug out of his greatcoat. He did not miss
the frown Thorn directed at the bag.  I made the most of the drive. Had Jones light the lantern inside the carriage. But you have my
word I won t touch the bag for the rest of the evening.
That erased the frown. Thorn picked up the bag and took his greatcoat. Ignoring the wooden coatrack in the corner by the door,
he tossed the coat onto the back of the armchair that already held his greatcoat and black coat.
 Supper is ready if you d like to eat now. Thorn dropped the bag onto the chair s cushion.  Or we can relax for a bit.
 Now is fine. For supper, Arthur clarified. Engrossed in reviewing documents on the ride home, he had not realized he was so
hungry. But the moment he had walked through his front door, the aroma of roasted chicken had gone straight to his empty stomach,
reminding him in no uncertain terms he not eaten since noon, when he had sent Wilson to pick up something for luncheon from a
nearby tavern.  It smells delicious, by the way.
 I m glad you approve. Thorn grabbed a bottle of wine and a glass from the side table beside the couch.  Come along, then.
Arthur followed him into the dining room. A single candle cast a soft, intimate glow over the table set for two. Though Thorn had
stayed the night often enough, they had never before shared a proper meal at Arthur s home. As he took his place, Thorn poured him
a glass of wine. Arthur took a sip, savoring the rich Bordeaux as it flowed down his throat. Thorn must have brought the bottle from his
cellar, for Arthur knew nothing in his own cabinet approached the caliber of this vintage.
 I ll be but a moment, Thorn murmured. He disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing a minute later bearing Arthur s copper
teakettle and a plain white porcelain cup.  Would you care for tea?
Arthur shook his head. Thorn saw to his own cup, then took his place at Arthur s right. The food proved more delicious than he
had anticipated, which said a lot. Thorn had an excellent cook, and Arthur had sampled his creations many times over the past few
months. His lover kept the conversation to a minimum, something Arthur very much appreciated. It always took some time for the
stress of the day to lift from his shoulders, for him to be able to take a deep breath and feel his muscles finally fully relax on the exhale.
And much to Arthur s relief, not once did Thorn make a not so subtle hint that he wanted more than Arthur s companionship.
The meal was a precious glimpse of how it had once been between them& for a short length of time, at least. Not much more
than a month, really. Thorn s presence comfortable and easy, no heavy, demanding undercurrent pushing for more to disturb the
soothing sense of complete harmony. And it had felt so damn good to walk through his front door and find Thorn waiting for him. A
reminder there was someone out there who truly cared about him and looked forward to seeing him. At times, Arthur still felt the ache
of the loss of his parents and his uncle perfectly understandable, he assured himself. How could he not miss his family? but Thorn
more than filled that empty, lonely place in his heart.
Last night must have been exactly what Thorn had needed after all. A bit of excitement to break up the monotony of spending
most every evening with Arthur s boring self. As he looked to Thorn and met the man s content smile with one of his own, he made a
mental note to plan another outing in the near future. Not one individual last night had commented on his friendship with Thorn, merely
taking it as a given worthy of no particular interest and laying to rest that little concern. And Thorn had proved true to his word from
months ago. One would have never guessed he had once spent his nights steeped in vice and debauchery.
Arthur swallowed a bite of chicken, and as he washed it down with a sip of wine, he glanced to Thorn s place, his gaze landing
on the half-full teacup. Thorn had brought the Bordeaux solely for Arthur. He could not help being cautious where it concerned Thorn
and the man s old habits, yet he needed to guard against straying into overbearing-arse territory. A glass of wine certainly could not
hurt anyone.  Thank you for bringing the wine, but you needn t forgo a glass with supper because of me.
 It s quite all right. I ve developed a fondness for tea.
Arthur arched a brow in disbelief.
 Truly. And I found it easier to stop completely. Thorn shrugged and speared a potato with his fork.  I know myself too well.
It had not occurred to Arthur before, but had turning his back so completely on any form of alcohol been another force behind
Thorn s restlessness of late?  Does it bother you to be around others who imbibe?
 Not at all. I have you. Care for more chicken? Thorn asked.
 No. He set down his fork and rubbed a hand across his comfortably full belly.  Could not eat another bite. Supper was
wonderful. Please extend my thanks to your cook.
Thorn tipped his head.  If you re finished, you can retire to the parlor. There s brandy on the mantel. I ll see to the table.
Dropping his linen napkin beside his plate, he stood.
Arthur pushed from the dining table.  Thank you, Thorn. He laid a hand on his lover s forearm, stilling him as he reached for one
of the silver dishes. Stepping closer, he leaned in to brush his lips across Thorn s in a whisper of a kiss, skin gliding softly across
skin.  Truly. Thank you. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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