Before Andrew knew what he was about, his lordship had bent his head and covered Andrew’s lips with his.
The taste and scent made Andrew moan. His lordship swallowed the involuntary sound as his arms went to Andrew’s forearms, holding him in a shockingly powerful grip.
The lips covering Andrew’s froze and then Darius assaulted him with new purpose, pressing into him. The rasp of stubble, so deliciously unlike the feel of a woman’s skin, made Andrew near to fainting. Shameful craving, hard and needy, rose to meet a similar strength contained within his lordship’s satin breeches.
Desire, strong and unassailable, swamped Andrew in a fever of need, wiping away memory, thought, and reason. Just this, this meant everything. He had denied himself for so long. Surely this taste of paradise could not be wrong? He could admit, if only to himself, that he had dreamed of this man’s arms around him, drawing him into the world of love and true fulfillment.
Darius curled his hand around Andrew’s neck, holding him in a firm but tender grip. He moved his thumb in circles as he pushed his tongue against Andrew’s lips, demanding permission to enter.
Andrew shivered, the gentle strokes on the hair at the nape of his neck as seductive as anything he had ever known. He opened, admitting the glorious taste of Darius Shaw into his mouth and his being. He caressed the invader and pressed closer, bringing their shafts into alignment. He had come home, where he belonged.
What was he doing?
Andrew jerked back.
At the first sign of resistance, Lord Darius let him go. He gazed into Andrew’s eyes, his own wide and shocked, as much as Andrew’s must have been. No sign of the sardonic amusement he’d affected remained. Only a realization, a recognition of something Andrew had fought against all his life.
Something that could never be. He drew a deep breath and firmed his lips.
“I knew it,” his lordship said in a voice barely more than a sigh. “You desire me.”
Lost for words, Andrew gaped. Glancing around, he was relieved to discover that nobody had seen his lapse of judgment. Hardly surprising in this small, crowded place where confusion reigned supreme.
“You do want me, don’t you?”
The mordant expression returned, shielding the desperate vulnerability Andrew was still not sure he had seen.
“Your protestations will not work, sir. I have seen your true colors.” The pause dropped between them. “I tasted them. You have the brightest shades in the rainbow inside you, and I’m the man to unlock them from their prison. I can set you free.”
Andrew could not pretend he did not know what Lord Darius meant. Anger seethed through him. He had not come this far, fought this hard, for his future to be ripped away from him, for this scion of aristocracy to disdainfully destroy everything he had. However unwittingly. “You made a mistake.” His steadiness of tone shocked him, but he persevered, his confidence increasing. “You appear anxious to shield the youth I wished to speak to.”
Lord Darius’s eyes narrowed. “You want another man?”
Finally, Andrew returned his attention to the room. It was fast emptying. The officers had removed the occupants with startling efficiency. No doubt they would let some go, those they had no charges against.
Furious at losing his quarry, Andrew faced Lord Darius head-on. “Sodomy is punishable by death, my lord, as well you know.”
“But an innocent kiss between friends?”
Andrew sneered. “That was no friendly salute.”
Lord Darius lowered his head. “No, it wasn’t, was it?”
His voice became unbearably intimate, making Andrew flinch at the truth of what he was saying.
“I’d call that a lewd act.” Reed’s presence broke into the conversation. “You’ll oblige me by coming along with me.”
Raising his head, Lord Darius gave the Runner a glacial stare. “Locking me up, are you?”
“If you please.”
“I do not.”
“Or if you don’t please. I’m locking you up anyway.”
Andrew, frozen with guilt and horror, forced himself to move. He stepped back and mustered what dignity he could. “You have sealed your own doom, sir.”
Lord Darius smiled, weariness in the curve of his mouth. “I did that a long time ago.”
Andrew turned his head and spotted one of Reed’s men. Jerking his chin, he said, “Take him,” and turned.
At least Lord Darius Shaw could get a taste of the jail for a night. Unless, as was more than probable, he sent for a relative to get him out, or dropped a few guineas into the Runner’s outstretched hand before they got to the prison gates.
Chapter 2
Darius paced to one end of his cell and then to the other. Four steps—two one way, two in the opposite direction. A narrow bench intended to serve as a bed stood against it. His jailer had told him he was lucky. He had no doubt he was because the entrance was secured, and he was alone. Unlike everyone else in this place.
The sound of prisoners doing whatever prisoners did filtered through the thick wooden door and thick stone walls. From the evidence of his ears, that would include sexual congress, betting, and more violent amusements. Presumably, if someone killed another person, that would save the hangman a job.
The jailers would haul him up before the magistrate tomorrow. No, that would be later today. They had hinted strongly that they would help him disappear before they reached Newgate, but he had ignored them.
Day had dawned an hour ago, but Darius had no intention of sleeping, especially on that thin mattress. The thing could have moved by itself, judging by the amount of wildlife that had set up home in it. A filthy lice-infested blanket held it down.
He gave a thin grin at the greasy walls scored by generations of prisoners inscribing their names and more amusing, lewder messages. If he’d sent a note to his family’s town house, they’d have had him out of here in an instant. So why hadn’t he done so?
Maybe because he deserved to be locked up. He was, after all, a sinner. He broke one specific law every time he had the chance. But not from any wish to, merely because what he wanted to do happened to be illegal.
People called what he did a sin against nature, a sin against mankind, and a sin against morality. That put his existence in a nutshell. He was a sinner.
He told himself he didn’t care. His coat skirts swung heavily around his legs as he turned, the expensive fabric hitting the filthy walls. He didn’t care about many things these days. He’d cared about his brother and his brother’s happiness, but Val was making his own life now. He didn’t need Darius any longer.