“You don’t hide,” Curtis said. “You could convert, you could dress conservatively, you could speak like a—an officer, if you wanted. You don’t pretend all the time. Why do you insist I should?”
“You’ve been pretending for thirty years,” Daniel flashed.
“I’m sick of it. I was going to come here anyway, Sir Maurice just made it easy. Daniel, I want to be with you. And if I can’t have that—” He stared into the dark eyes, willing him to understand. “I still shan’t go back to the pretence. I’ve spent my life in this state of—of murkiness, as if I’ve been in one of your blasted fishponds all this time. Dark water. And I won’t put my head back under.”
Daniel’s eyes widened, then he turned his face away. Voice biting and very brittle, he said, “No, poetry really isn’t your field, is it. I suggest you leave the metaphors to me.”
It hurt like a physical blow. Curtis stared at him, and suddenly realised that he was sick of talk, sick of trying to breach defences with weapons he was no damned good at using.
“You’re right,” he said. “I’m no poet. Let’s do this the military way.”
“What—” Daniel began, and then gave a strangled squawk as Curtis jerked him forward, pinioning Daniel’s left arm to his waist and gripping his other wrist hard. He leaned in against him, using fifteen stone of solid muscle to press him to the wall.
Daniel glared up at him. “What the devil are you doing?”
“Shutting your damned mouth,” said Curtis, and kissed him as forcefully as he could.
Daniel made a noise of outrage against his lips, struggling with what felt like genuine effort. It did him no good. Curtis was far stronger, and had restrained plenty of men, albeit not while kissing them, and he easily overrode Daniel’s attempts to break free, forcing his mouth over lips that moved with what were probably curses. Daniel’s writhing was bumping their hips together, and Curtis deliberately pressed closer, body to body.
Daniel twisted violently to get his mouth free, and managed, “…fucking Viking!”
“Black mamba.”
“Black what?”
“A kind of snake. Dark, beautiful and appallingly foul-tempered.”
“Sod you.”
Daniel lunged at him. Their mouths met again, hard and hungry. Curtis didn’t restrain his strength and felt Daniel’s savage response, teeth digging into his lips. He could feel Daniel’s arousal, pressing hard against his thigh, his movements now all about rubbing bodies rather than winning freedom, and though it was far outside his experience, Curtis knew an overwhelming urge to pick him up, throw him down on the bed, do things that would make him scream aloud and shatter his defences for good. He was bloody well going to find out what those things would be.
He drove his hips forward, pushing Daniel back against the wall, and relished the gasp against his mouth.
“Pax,” Daniel managed, turning his head sideways for air. “Pax. All right, what did that prove? That you’re bigger than me?”
“You want me. This isn’t over.” Curtis loosened his grip on Daniel’s arms and leaned back, looking down at his bruised lips and dark, unfathomable eyes. There was a moment of silence and hard breathing.
“That,” Daniel said at last, “was ungentlemanly.”
“I’ll be a gentleman if you will.”
They stared at each other, chests rising and falling. A lock of Daniel’s tousled hair was falling into his eyes. Curtis brushed it away, fingertips skimming the skin, felt rather than saw Daniel’s tiny sway towards him.
He said, more gently, “I meant what I said. I’m glad this happened, between us.”
“Please.” Daniel spat the word. “Don’t pretend I’ve done you any favours.”
“You have. You don’t know how much. Look, Daniel, I want you. I’ve never wanted anyone like this before, and I don’t suppose I will again. I want you to argue with me, and make me laugh, and laugh at me, or with me. I want the appalling things you say and the modern nonsense you spout. But if you honestly don’t want to carry on as we were, then I’ll accept that. I’ll have to. All I ask is that if you send me away, it’s for your sake, not mine. I don’t need a nursemaid either.”
There was utter silence for a moment.
Daniel pushed the heels of his trembling hands over his eyes. “I can’t have you work with me. Absolutely not. I won’t be babied, and you’d only put your gigantic feet all over everything anyway.”
Curtis took a second to interpret that and felt the slow dawn of joy. “Fine.”
“And this isn’t my fault. If you want to make a mull of your damn fool life, I can’t stop you.”
“No.” Now Curtis couldn’t stop grinning. “Are you always this difficult?”
“Yes.”
“Are you ever going to make things simple for me?”
“I doubt it.”
Curtis put out a gentle finger and tipped Daniel’s chin up so their eyes met. “May I kiss you?”
“You just did.”