Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
As soon as Marc finished politely excusing himself from a charming older couple, Royce stepped up and threaded his fingers through Marc’s, squeezing his hand.
“The missing brothers?” Royce whispered in his ear.
“What gave it away?”
“The fact that your expression said you’d rather have a bottle brush rammed up your ass than talk to them.”
A loud bark of laughter erupted from Marc, echoing through the gallery before he could slap his hand over his mouth. Marc cleared his throat and tried to pin a serious look on his face before his brothers could join him, but there was still laughter in his eyes, pushing aside some of the earlier worry.
“Marc,” the older of the two men said by way of greeting. They might have been talking to Marc, but both brothers were staring Royce down. He just smiled at them, a broad flashing of his teeth.
“Richard. Gabe. I’m glad you could make it tonight,” Marc said. Royce couldn’t help but notice the stilted tone to his voice—as if he’d lost some little bit of what made him so wonderfully warm and charming in an effort to be precise.
“I’m guessing this is the new boyfriend that Lilah told us about,” the shorter of the two men said.
“Yes. Royce, these are my brothers, Richard and Gabriel.”
Royce shook their hands before lifting Marc’s hand up to his lips and brushing a light kiss across his knuckles. Both men eyed the move with a strange mix of confusion and ill-concealed horror.
“Lilah said that you’ve moved in,” Richard said, his tone brusque and cold.
“Just a trial for a bit,” Royce hedged. “A few weeks, at least, as we try out seeing each other more often.”
“Or maybe a few months,” Marc added, stepping closer to Royce. He bent down so he could press his nose into Royce’s hair, nuzzling him. A hint of Marc’s cologne drifted around him, and Royce wanted to bury his face in Marc’s neck.
“Or longer,” he agreed.
“And you’re an artist?” Gabe asked sharply. Royce could feel Marc’s body shake slightly with laughter. This was more of an inquisition rather than a conversation.
“I work in clay.”
“Like making pottery?”
“Royce has experimented in pottery, but he creates stunning busts and figures along with other objet d’art.” Marc had gotten good at immediately jumping in regarding any talk of Royce’s art if it demanded that he say anything beyond the basics. “He’s currently experimenting with some new techniques and materials.”
“Are you planning to show his work?”
“I’m not dating Marc to further my career,” Royce growled. He started to take a step forward, but Marc put a restraining hand on his shoulder while forcing a laugh.
“Royce knows that clay isn’t a medium that’s my specialty.” Marc said it so calmly and lightly, brushing the unspoken accusations aside like so much dirt under the rug. Royce wanted to punch both men in their smug, frowning faces. “We just love being together.”
“Drinks!” Lilah suddenly called, breaking into the little gathering with three champagne glasses. Royce wanted to swear. He’d been so sidetracked with the appearance of the two brothers that he hadn’t even noticed the arrival of Marc’s sister. She immediately handed the most precariously balanced one to Marc, while giving one of the others to Richard and keeping the third for herself.
Before Marc could bring the glass to his lips, Royce carefully snatched it out of his hands and held it away from both of them. “Ah-ah, baby! You promised,” Royce gently chided with a broad smile. He hadn’t seen the drink’s progression from the bar to Marc, so he refused to trust that Lilah hadn’t laced it with something. After the first poisoning with nuts, Marc ate and drank only what he could vouch for completely.
Looking over at the stunned family members, Royce grinned. “We made a promise that we’d go out to celebrate tonight after the show. No drinking until then.”
“Yes, celebrate,” Marc repeated stiffly, but Royce could see that Marc had become considerably paler. The hand he was holding shook, the fingers turning cold.
“If you’ll excuse us for a moment.” Royce released Marc’s hand long enough to wrap his arm around Marc’s waist and direct him back toward his office. He placed the untouched drink on the tray of a passing server. As they walked, Garrett caught his eye, but Royce gave a small shake of his head. He needed to check on Marc, get his head back in the game before they could continue.
Royce released Marc as they stepped inside the office, and he quickly closed the door. He turned to find Marc seated on the front edge of his desk, face still pale as he stared at his empty hands.
“I didn’t even think,” he murmured to himself. “She’s handed me hundreds of drinks over our lifetime, and I didn’t even think about it. She could have killed me right there.” Marc lifted haunted blue eyes to Royce, and the same man who had owned the room just minutes earlier looked utterly lost. “I’m sorry. I know I agreed to not drink or eat anything you didn’t hand me. I didn’t think. Do you think it was poisoned?”