A Suitable Replacement (17 page)

Cheeks going ruddy, Max turned to stare at the mountains. "She loves to tell that story to shock people; I think sometimes it is a test of sorts. But you she already knows well, so I think she wanted solely to embarrass me this time. Most do not find the tale amusing."

"That is their loss. The story is amusing … and also distracting."

Max whipped his head around, narrowed his eyes, then rose to his full height. "Oh, really?"

"I cannot imagine my imperious little scientist surrendering himself to the ministrations of two whores, and yet … I think I can, and it's quite the image. What was it like?"

"Oh, gods," Max said, burying his face in his hands. "I think I begin to truly understand why you and Mavin got on so well. I am going to pitch you both over the balcony." He tried to retreat to the bedroom, but was snagged about the waist and dragged back against Kelcey's chest. Teeth nibbled on his ear, made him shiver and barely hold back a moan. "Un-unhand me."

Kelcey chuckled, the sound of it vibrating through Max, and slipped one had beneath Max's shirt to tease along his skin, dip the bare tips of his fingers into Max's breeches. "Tell me more about this birthday present."

"Two—two—
stop that
—two women. Expensive, but worth every penny. They—" He broke off with a groan. "If you want me to talk, stop touching my cock."

In reply, Kelcey pressed Max up against the railing, reaching around to remove his glasses. Max did not see what became of them, but suspected they'd been summarily tossed onto the bedroom floor. Reaching around him again, Kelcey started to undo buttons and clasps; Max shivered again as cold washed over his bared skin, especially when Kelcey stripped off his jacket and shirt and cast them after the glasses. "Keep talking," he ordered, putting his teeth to Max's neck.

"Bastard," Max muttered. "Two women, waiting in my room wearing nothing but lace. One in—don't—p-pink lace, the other b-black. You son of—" His head dipped, cheeks burning with the knowledge that they were outside on the balcony, in plain view of anyone else who happened out onto their own balconies. Not that anyone was, not that he could see, but he wasn't exactly capable of paying attention either.

Especially not when slick fingers pushed inside him, where he was still loose from being thoroughly fucked the previous night.

"Keep talking," Kelcey said, and bit his ear.

"They were, as I said, worth every penny my sister paid. One had copper hair, the other white, both just a couple of years younger than me, or so I surmised. The redhead had her own cock, and the white-haired girl was happy to avail herself of my modest collection of toys. I do not think we slept the entire night, and they even stayed through the morning. I'm sure by this point they must run their own establishment, if they've not moved on to some other lifestyle."

Kelcey's breaths were hot against the back of his neck. "You are leaving out details I would like to hear. How can you be so reserved and starchy and imperious everywhere else, but so … soft and pliant and bare in the bedroom?"

"I am not even close to soft—" Max groaned as Kelcey proved he wasn't terribly soft, either, pushing his cock inside Max like he had every right to be there and no intention of leaving. "You're an even worse influence than Mav."

Chuckling, nipping at his shoulder, his throat, his ear, Kelcey began to fuck him with slow, deep, easy strokes that burned through him, melted him from the inside out. Max's skin dripped sweat that the cool air could not mitigate, making his hair stick to his skin, made his hands too slick to hold fast to the railing. He was forced to bend over, open himself up more, stare down at the mountains unable to ignore the fact that Kelcey was fucking him where people could see. Forced to acknowledge that he might like it more than he cared to admit.

Perhaps he did not pale in comparison to his sister after all, if Kelcey was still so enthusiastic about fucking him.

Kelcey's hand wrapped around his cock, and it did not take more than a few strokes before Max was spilling. He tried not to think about where his release might have landed, because it certainly did not all end up in Kelcey's hand.

If his face got any hotter, he was going to catch fire, no matter how unscientific he knew that to be.

A few moments later, Kelcey's hands clamped down on his hips, and he gave a last few desperate, jerky thrusts, draping himself over Max's body and holding tight as he came.

Kelcey was just beginning to grow unbearably heavy when he shifted away some of his weight. "You are the greatest distraction I have ever encountered. I daresay you might be an addiction."

Max's cheeks flushed anew at that, but before he could muster a reply, Kelcey was pulling him away from the balcony. He turned Max around to give a slow-burning kiss, calloused fingers tracing the edges of his face before cupping his head.

When he finally broke away, Kelcey led him back inside and shut the doors behind him. "I am sorry breakfast turned into such a trial for you. I never anticipated we would cross paths with your sister."

"Mavin is good at doing the unexpected. Learning to anticipate
that
is a skill that requires growing up alongside her." Even he could not always determine what she would do next. Certainly he had never thought she would elope with someone so calm and gentle.

Not that his own behavior was any less surprising. The world would have made far more sense if Mavin had married Kelcey and Max had married someone more like Gerard. But he could no longer fathom a life that did not have Kelcey at his side. Whatever simmered between them was an addiction.

Max could not bring himself to be troubled by that fact as Kelcey dragged him back to bed, pulled Max to sprawl atop him as they settled amongst the blankets. "Do you want to continue traveling with them, if the idea is posed?" Kelcey asked, lazily trailing fingers over his body, caressing with a familiarity that Max liked far too much.

He shrugged, yawned, and rested his head on Kelcey's chest. "If she brings up the idea, it will not be posed as a question so much as an order. I do not object, necessarily. Even if I want to throttle her right now I have missed her." He looked up. "Would you mind terribly? After … everything, I would understand if you preferred to have some space."

"I rarely hold grudges. The grudges held against me have never done anyone any good. Lady Mavin did what she thought was safest for everyone involved. I cannot remain mad at her for that, nor begrudge her the happiness she has found with Lord Gerard. What do I truly have to complain about in this matter?"

"My sister," Max said dryly. "Certainly I complain about her frequently and often. If she tells anymore inappropriate stories about me—"

Kelcey cut him off with a laugh, fingers briefly pressing down more firmly on Max's skin. "But I like those stories. They seem more like you."

Max frowned, not certain what that meant. "Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean I very much enjoy the you who can barely be bothered to dress before he goes to play with goblin blood, and gets thoroughly drunk at dinner, and believes in magic, to the man who wants to scientifically match me and wears stiff clothes he obviously hates and attends parties he loathes. You seem much happier when you are that man, versus the one attempting to abide by rules he dislikes."

"There is plenty of merit to a scientific approach," Max muttered. "Life is also a good deal more manageable when one does not make a point to flagrantly break every rule." His parents had never learned how to relax. His sister had never learned moderation. Max had never figured out how to teach either side to unbend, and his love went to his sister first—one more betrayal his parents had not been able to forgive. By that point, however, he'd not been interested in their forgiveness. "I feel if everyone involved in this affair had been a bit more rational we would not be in such a mess."

"Perhaps," Kelcey said, and to Max's surprise set him aside and sat up, discarding his mussed clothes and striding, beautifully naked, over to the wardrobe for a new set.

What had Max said wrong? It was true—if his sister had simply waited for him to return, if the crown had not panicked and been determined to find a groom
or else
… they could all be at home working matters out much more calmly and happily. It was exactly the reason why he did not care to be quite as wild as Mavin. Too much was as terrible as too little.

Still, Kelcey would not look at him, and Max felt suddenly … he did not know quite the word he wanted, but he was naked and dirty and sore before noon and had probably made it clear to the entire hotel exactly what Kelcey had been doing to him. And Kelcey was clearly ready to move on with the day.

Used, that was the word. Cheap. Flushed with shame, Max clambered from bed and strode over to the basin to clean himself. By the time he was done, Kelcey had finished dressing and was bent over one of his trunks as though in search of something.

Max pulled out his own clothes from a second wardrobe and dressed, then rifled through his jewelry case for the emerald and pearl bits meant to accompany his like-colored jacket and waistcoat. Slipping on black, gold-buckled shoes, he finally faced Kelcey—who still was bent over his trunk. "If you've no further use for me, sir, I will leave you to your business."

"Do as you like," Kelcey replied, tone curt, dismissive.

Barely resisting an urge to plant his foot in Kelcey's backside, Max strode to the door and curled his fingers around the handle. Looking back, he said, "I would think a man used to being treated poorly would be kinder to his whores. Or perhaps you are kinder to the ones you have to pay."

He slammed the door behind him before storming off down the hall. He'd just turned the corner to head for the stairs when he heard a door open, followed by an absolute silence so familiar it was as effective as any sound. Bugger him. Max was not in the mood for a shouting match even if he
had
been the one to fire the first shot and was being completely childish. All he wanted was a moment to calm down.

Looking frantically about, he saw a servants' door and bolted to it. Slipping through, he turned and cracked the door the barest sliver. Only a breath later Kelcey turned the corner, face shuttered, but his mouth tight, turned down sharply at the corners.

When Max was certain that Kelcey must be well away, he slipped back out into the hall and headed in the opposite direction, bound for the back entrance of the hotel that was used by those who wanted to take the promenade up to the waterfall and then on to the forest beyond.

Why anyone would
want
to do all that, Max could not begin to guess. Clearly they had never spent any amount of time stuck in a dusty tent or attempting to sleep on cold, damp ground.

But even a dreary walk was preferable to contending with his sister or Kelcey right then.

Everything between them had been going so well, far better than he ever could have anticipated given the circumstances surrounding their acquaintance. Surrounding their marriage. When Kelcey had returned his interest … but perhaps interest was too strong a word. Kelcey obviously returned his
lusts
, but Max was well aware that wanting to fuck someone did not mean you wanted to do more than that. Perhaps he was the only one who thought their relationship was becoming something more. He had thought with the museum, the beautiful ring … but it would hardly be the first time he had seen something that wasn't there. According to most of the scientific community, that was his specialty. He was a crackpot in matters professional and personal. Splendid.

Max would have much preferred he and Kelcey had met in ordinary fashion and come to be friends, then lovers, but he was long accustomed to working with unusual circumstances.

Was he so terrible a match? He held no title himself, but his sister was a duchess. He had his own income and a stipend his sister was happy to grant him the moment he allowed her. His reputation was not necessarily pristine, but he was hardly rejected by society. All in all, he was not the worst catch in the kingdom.

And he had made it clear he was fond of Kelcey. Hadn't he?

Perhaps not. If Kelcey felt compelled to be so dismissive, then there must be a reason, logically speaking. Bother it, there was going to have to be a shouting match after all. He doubted either one of them would manage to remain calm about the matter, not with the way they had already behaved.

Heaving a sigh, Max turned on his heel and strode back the way he had come to go in search of his errant husband.

Chapter Ten

When Max arrived downstairs, however, he could not find Kelcey, or even Mavin and Gerard. Perhaps Mav and Gerard had retreated to their own room, though it was not like Mavin to go to all the trouble of getting dressed only to undo the work less than an hour later.

He deliberated between questioning staff as to where they might have gone and simply returning to his suite to await Kelcey's eventual return. There was a chance Kelcey was doing the same. Back up to the room, then.

Returning to the stairs he had only just come down Max headed quickly up—and froze when he heard Kelcey's voice, sharper and angrier than Max had ever heard it. Angrier even than when their carriage had been sabotaged and the highwaymen nearly captured them.

Pausing at the landing for the second level, he stepped into the hallway and tried to pinpoint the direction of the voices. Movement caught the corner of his eye and he turned, catching the edge of another angry shout—and just barely saw Kelcey stride past a doorway, arm gesturing sharply as he shouted at the person he was addressing.

Max hastened down the hall toward Kelcey. That room was a sunroom if he recalled correctly, with a particularly fine view of the waterfall and the pool below where some people were brave enough to go for a swim.

"—I am telling you for the last time, I am retired. Nothing you say will change my mind on the matter. I said the very same to you in Shelrow and my mind has not changed since."

Shelrow? When had Kelcey spoken to anyone in Shelrow? The only strange encounter in Shelrow … Max frowned. The only encounter of note had been when they'd left the museum, and Kelcey had glared at someone Max had never seen. Had he slipped away at some point, while Max slept or was otherwise distracted, to speak with the man? How had the very same man found them again?