Sinless (The Shaws #1.5)

Andrew felt deep in his bones that Darius had never related his story to anyone before, not like this. Why Darius had dropped his carefully cultivated shell for him, Andrew did not know. He had no similar confession. He had never given way to the impulses that even now shamed him.

But, like Darius, he didn’t seem to be able to help himself.

Darius’s self-disparagement annoyed Andrew. “You are not a thing, Darius. You are a person, and as valuable as anyone else.”

The polish had not returned. At any other time Andrew felt sure Darius would have responded with a quip or a careless comment, but not now.

When Darius held out his hand, Andrew took it. He let Darius draw him to his feet.

“I felt like a thing, rather than a person. Honesty saved me,” Darius murmured, so close his warm breath swept over Andrew’s cheek. “I can never be honest with society, if only for my family’s sake. But I can be honest with myself. I know what I am and who I am. I have made peace with that.” A smile quirked the corner of his mouth, a wry one, but his expression gentled. “I’m telling you, my friend, because I like you. More than that, I confess. I desire you.”

Andrew forced himself to remain where he was and listen to what Darius had to say. Every instinct told him to move forward, to let himself go for once in his life. His strong sense of self-preservation and his responsibilities, as always, held him back.

Darius smiled. “I see in you what I was a few years ago. Of course, I did not have my living to make as you do, but my loyalties and my inner desires were tearing me apart. I have reached a kind of peace. I do not seek for a lifetime’s partner, as I yearned for once. I do not believe I will ever find that person, but I make the most of what I have, and I will not apologize for it.”

The men stared at one another for what seemed like a lifetime. Andrew had never been this close to another man, ever. The encounter fascinated him, his throat tightened with tension and nerves.

He could not abide to see Darius suffer like this. “I thought the struggle hard, but you have seen much worse.” To be a member of such a prominent family, to be pointed at, derided, despised. “How can you bear it?”

Before Darius could answer, Andrew cupped his cheek and drew closer. Darius’s eyes remained open, as did Andrew’s, as he brought their mouths together and kissed him.

This time he knew what he was doing. This was not pity, or defiance, or a taunt. This was affection and comfort, an assurance they were not alone.

Emotion surged as Andrew’s body responded to the proximity of the man who had fascinated him from the first time he’d set eyes on Darius last year.

He pressed closer when Darius responded, opening his mouth to explore and be explored in his turn. Andrew thrust his tongue into Darius’s mouth, forgetting everything in his need to taste and touch. He held Darius’s upper arm, gripping it tightly, feeling the hardness of muscle beneath, the sensation turning his mood into fiery need.

A low groan startled him until he realized he’d made the sound. He had never known such desire. Heat surged through him. When Darius circled him with his free arm, he went willingly, stepping between Darius’s open legs to bring their shafts into alignment. Darius was as hard as he, his cock pressing against his breeches. Desperate for release, Andrew pressed against him.

Then Darius moved, grinding his member against Andrew, and Andrew knew sheer delight. He had denied himself this for so long.

Until Darius pushed him away with a shove that nearly unbalanced him. Bewilderment and loss swept over Andrew. Darius’s rejection was too harsh, too sudden for Andrew to take in.

A sharp rap sounded on the door. Andrew spun around to face the window, urging his tumescence to subside. “Come!” His voice sounded too loud, too sharp, but it was the best he could do.

What had he been thinking? Any of the servants could have come in. While he had been lost in the kiss, the house could have fallen down around him and he wouldn’t have noticed. But the door was unlocked, and as far as his household knew, he was having a private business meeting, which was not unusual enough for note.

He’d been locked in a forbidden, passionate embrace with a man he desired more than any man or woman he’d known before. He’d been on the verge of coming. While he should feel shame, he felt nothing but exhilaration. Until the knock. They would never have broken apart in time, if Darius had not pushed him.

He glanced at his guest. Darius sat at the table as if he’d never left it, not a hair out of place, long legs sprawled underneath in an attitude of perfect repose. Andrew hadn’t reached his hair, which was still tied back in its tidy queue. Andrew had a strong suspicion his wig was askew and his neckcloth no longer tied in the neat knot he’d put it into before he’d gone down to his study.

But his embarrassment flew out of his head when he saw the distress on the face of the maid standing in the doorway. “Please, sir, it’s Miss Elizabeth.”

“What’s wrong?” He had reached the door before he remembered moving.

“She has a fever.”

“Send for the doctor.” He would not risk Elizabeth. He left the room without saying anything to his guest. Some things were far more important.





Chapter 5


His body still throbbing from the unexpected encounter, his heart delighting in Andrew’s kiss, Darius leaped to his feet and followed his host from the room. What had caused such agitation? He felt it, the rise in tension of a completely different kind that had lain between them a moment before.

Miss Elizabeth? His sister, perhaps? He had not mentioned a sister, but then, why should he?

Upstairs, he followed Andrew into a bedroom. The curtains were closed and a single candle burned in a stand by the bed, a small one canopied in pink silk. The room was tastefully furnished, but in a simple way he liked.

A child lay in the bed, tossing in the sheets, churning the linen into creased rags.

He’d seen similar sights before. It didn’t matter who this child was, just that the girl was ill. A pretty blond girl, her cheeks flushed red and her cries little more than moans turned to the door as it opened.

“Papa!”

Well, that answered one of his questions. He’d had no idea Andrew was a father. That small fact did not matter now. Not with a sick child suffering.

Andrew strode to the bed and swept his arms around the girl. She reached out her hand and touched him, her eyes red-rimmed but a trembling smile on her lips. “I wanted you.”

Andrew touched the girl’s forehead. “You’re burning up, child.” He turned, pausing for the fraction of a second as his gaze met Darius’s. “We have a doctor nearby. He works as a physician at one of the hospitals. Elizabeth knows him.”

“I’ll ensure someone is sent for him,” Darius said. “If he is absent, I can find someone else.”

“I would be deeply grateful to you.”

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