His Royal Favorite Page 13

  "I'm happy with Ben here and now. Please, won't you at least open the door a little? I won't come in. Just open the door."

  Indigo sobbed, "I can't. I can't."

  Under the closet door, he saw the very tips of her fingers; she was reaching out as much as she could with the door still shut. James lay on the floor and touched his fingertips to her own. He felt so powerless, so guilty. All he could do was stay there, hour after hour, until his stomach hurt and his bladder ached, because he couldn't abandon her, not even to step away.

  When he got home at 2 a.m., Ben was already asleep in his bed. James stayed in his own room, so as not to disturb him.

  ***

  Two nights now, they'd slept apart. Ben didn't like this trend.

  Still, he knew the reason why James had left the evening before, and it would have been childish to object, particularly when he rose for breakfast and saw how haggard James looked. The dark circles under James's eyes troubled Ben less than the way James's hands trembled slightly as he reached for his coffee.

  "I really thought she was getting better," James said, staring into the unseen distance as they sat together at the table. "I let myself believe it, because I wanted to. But the past few months were an illusion. Indigo's had spells like that before. Periods where she was almost normal. In the end she always breaks down."

  "Have you talked to her again about seeing a counselor?"

  James shook his head. "Either she's too fragile for me to mention it, or she's doing well and I don't want to bring her down again."

  Ben thought that attitude was only going to lead James and Indigo in the same miserable circles over and over again, but he held his tongue. In the end, it wasn't his business. He simply let James vent, fed him more coffee, and sent him off for his day's engagements with only slightly more loneliness than usual.

  At least today would be better than yesterday had been, Ben thought--until Kimberley Tseng walked in with the morning headlines.

  ***

  "Benji! Benji! What else can you tell us about the Prince Regent?"

  "So how does Jamie like it, huh?"

  "When James becomes king, do you intend to be crowned queen?"

  "Benji! Hey, Benji!"

  Ben pushed through the paparazzi, ignoring them more thoroughly than he would have ignored a cloud of gnats. Nor did he glance at the tabloids they waved in the air. He had his own copy of the Mirror in his coat pocket, at the ready.

  As soon as he walked into the Global Media offices, Ben recognized the reaction of the other reporters in the newsroom. Their avid but slightly guilty attention had surrounded him ever since the news got out, but it was stronger now. More amused. Less guilty. He had no name for what was being projected at him now, but it was a mixture of amusement, contempt and . . . call it alienation. Maybe the only person in this room who still saw Ben as a human being was Roberto.

  He went straight to Fiona de Winter's office and walked in without knocking. She glanced up from her work as he shut the door. "Hey, there. What's going on?"

  By way of reply, Ben held up the cover page of the Mirror, which read: "Benji's not in it for the cash--says Jamie's the 'BEST SEX OF MY LIFE!'"

  Fiona shook her head, as if exasperated by the silliness of a child. "Don't let that get to you."

  "I only ever said this to one person, Fiona," Ben said in a low voice. "Only one. And I remember exactly who I said it to."

  There was some slight satisfaction in watching her go utterly still, as if she had just turned into a statue. In her eyes he could see her try to come up with an out, fail, and then decide to just face it. "Okay. You know."

  "You're the leak. You were the leak all along." Ben had actually come to believe she was his friend--but Fiona had only offered that kindness after he'd revealed himself as James's partner. She'd been a sympathetic ear only because she intended to turn around and whisper it all.

  "I just want you to stop and think about this from my perspective," she said.

  "Your perspective?"

  "Yes!" Fiona snapped. "One of my reporters is at the heart of the biggest news story in the world, and he didn't tell me about it? He won't share anything exclusive on it? Don't you think that puts pressure on me?"

  "You're not making any sense! Even if you wanted me to give you more information--which, by the way, I'm not professionally obligated to do--that doesn't explain why you'd give the information to the fucking tabloids. The competition? Seriously? I guess at least you got rich off the deal."

  Her face flushed. "They didn't pay me anything. They cut me in on information. On sources."

  "What, from hacked cell phone logs?" This was so far beneath any reasonable journalistic standards that he could hardly wrap his mind around it. Yes, Fiona de Winter had always had a reputation for being ruthless; Roger Hornby had told Ben as much before he ever left Cape Town. But Ben had never imagined this.

  "It's not like I didn't tell them anything that wasn't true. And the worst stuff they printed had nothing to do with me." Fiona paused, and her voice was less defensive when she added, "You know I didn't give them anything on your parents."

  "I know that." If he'd thought otherwise, he would have been hard-pressed not to just walk in and start trashing her office. "But this, Fiona? Something this personal?"

  Her shrug told him that she was back to trying to play this casual. "You guys live together. It's not as though the world isn't aware you have sex with the Prince Regent."

  "That's not the same as giving them details about our sex life!" Ben was furious at himself for ever having spoken of it, even if it had been back when he believed nobody would ever know the man he'd raved about was the next king of England. "James has had so little privacy in his life. For God's sake, the tabloids printed his sonogram. They took away his privacy when he was still inside his mother. Can you imagine how exposed that would make you feel? How much you might want to believe one thing in your life could belong only to you?" He caught himself. "And every goddamned word of that was off the record, Fiona. If I see one single syllable of it in any tabloid, I'll sue it and you straight to bankruptcy."

  Fiona stood up. "Ben, you're upset. I get that. I do. But you have to calm down."

  "Or what? Or people will hear me yelling? And they'll figure out that you've violated every rule in the employee handbook?"

  She blanched, and Ben realized she hadn't had the higher-ups' permission to sell him out. Good. He could use the leverage.

  "I have to talk with people back at Clarence House," he said, turning up the collar of his coat. "So I guess I'll be taking a good part of the day off. I'm sure you can come up with an explanation that will satisfy everyone in the office. Nobody outside the office should hear about it."

  "Fine," Fiona said shortly. "Go."

  Ben turned and stalked out. As he went he tried not to hear the few snickers from people who'd just read about his sex life on page one--or to know that they were laughing at James, as well.

  ***

  James had attended emergency meetings with Buckingham Palace's press people before, most recently just before coming out, but none of the meetings had been quite as amusing as this one.

  "Obviously certain information is far too private to be shared with the general public," one of the Buckingham Palace PR officers said. They were all gathered around the large table in James's office, its smooth polished surface littered with copies of the Mirror. "We had thought Mr. Dahan had been adequately briefed about this."

  "I was. And I didn't need briefing about that in the first place." Ben looked beyond exasperated. "This was something I said to a friend, in confidence, without specifying my partner, long before I knew James and I would ever go public."

  Kimberley Tseng interjected, "We can't go blaming people for this kind of leak. No one within The Firm is invulnerable to personal betrayal, no matter how careful their behavior. Mr. Dahan's done admirably."

  "Yet still the Prince Regent's sex life is on the front pages," said another P
R type, one James felt quite sure worked closely with Prince Richard. "When the decision was made about His Royal Highness's coming out, we were counting on no such embarrassing admissions going public. This seriously undermines his dignity and thus his fitness to become king."

  Ben's eyes blazed. "First of all, you didn't make the decision about James's coming out. He did. And this doesn't have a damn thing to do with his fitness to become king."

  Before James could say anything, Kimberley put her hand on Ben's arm, effectively hushing him. She said, "This is one incident. Just one. Most people will forget about it sooner rather than later."

  "Forget this?" said the PR man. "I highly doubt it."

  "I hope not," James said.

  Those were the first words he'd spoken in the meeting. Everyone turned to stare at him.

  James continued, "Personally, I love it."

  The tension broke. Ben breathed out, half a laugh, and a few people around the table giggled. Kimberley had to hide her smile behind her hand; even the nastiest PR guy from Buckingham Palace couldn't resist a smirk.

  With exaggerated motions, James picked up the Mirror to look at the headline again: BEST SEX OF MY LIFE. "This is my favorite tabloid headline about myself, ever. Lifetime. I mean it."

  In a far more conciliatory tone, Richard's man said, "You can see that it's . . . inappropriate, sir."

  "So is nine-tenths of what these bastards print about me. I refuse to make a big deal out of this, and so should you. If you get press questions, say no comment, and that's the end." James turned his gaze to Ben as he concluded, "No harm done."

  The palace's PR people didn't seem wholly convinced about that last, but they at least accepted that this was the natural conclusion of the meeting. After some muttered formalities, they filed out.

  Kimberley lingered a few moments longer. "Mr. Dahan, we should talk about the person who leaked this."

  "Fiona de Winter. My immediate supervisor at Global Media." Ben shook his head wearily. "Don't worry. The days of taking her into my confidence are over."

  "Will you need to take action within your workplace?" Kimberley asked.

  "I can't go on like I have been. More than that, I'm not ready to say."

  Although Kimberley didn't seem pleased, she nodded. "Very well, Mr. Dahan. Please let me know what you're going to do in advance."

  "Of course," Ben said. "Always." His voice sounded somewhat hollow.

  With that Kimberley left them alone. As soon as she shut James's office door, Ben leaned down, bracing his hands against the broad mahogany desk. "James, I'm sorry."

  "Don't be silly. It's not your fault you were taken advantage of."

  "I just feel like shit for putting you in this position."

  "What, the position where everyone speculates about my sex life? I've been in there since shortly after puberty. No need to suddenly start worrying about it now."

  Ben shrugged, obviously unwilling to argue any longer.

  James stroked his hand along Ben's shoulder. Ben had yet to so much as remove his coat. Given the turmoil of the day so far, James considered saving his question for later--but he couldn't stand it any longer. "Ben?"

  "Hmm?"

  "Is it true?"

  At that Ben finally looked up. "Is what true?"

  "The headline. What you told Fiona." It had been ages since James had felt this shy with Ben. "About, you know, us."

  "Are you asking me if you really are the best sex of my life?" Ben's smile was slow and hard, still toughened by his anger.

  "Well. Yes." James ran one hand through his hair, which was getting a bit long. "I know it's silly of me to ask, but--you've had so much more experience than I have, and what we have, to me it's incredible, beyond incredible, but I've always wondered how I, you know. Compared."

  Ben said nothing for a moment, then turned and pushed James back against the wall. It wasn't a shove, but forceful enough to make James catch his breath. Bracing his hands on either side of James's waist, Ben murmured, "Do you not know what you do to me?"

  James's mind was practically screaming: Good God, this is my office! There are staffers just outside the door! However, his brain wasn't in charge at the moment. "Tell me."

  "You are"--Ben's lips found James's neck, and punctuated every few words with a slow, hot kiss. --"an absolutely--delicious--fuck."

  "Mmmm." James braced himself against Ben's chest, his hands fisted in the lapels of his coat, and he had to fight the urge to push it off Ben's shoulders so it would fall to the floor. He thought he might fall right behind it.

  "And I--have never--ever--wanted a man--this much." Teeth scraped along James's earlobe, making him shiver. "Nobody else even came close."

  James couldn't resist any longer. He pulled Ben into a kiss, but Ben instantly intensified it, flattening James against the wall as he rubbed up against him. They were both already hard.

  "We can't," James breathed. He had a meeting in half an hour, here in this office.

  "We will." Ben's hand stroked the length of James's cock, making James stifle a moan. "Right now."

  "Upstairs. The bed." At least James could preserve some decency. "Go. I'm right behind you."

  Ben kissed him again, long and wet, before turning and stalking out of the office. James took a moment to straighten himself and make sure his suit jacket hid his erection. By force of will he slowed his breathing to something like normal, and he managed to breeze out of his office as though it were any other stroll down the hall. "Be back shortly," he said to his chief secretary, who appeared too burdened by work to have paid too much attention to any thumps against the wall, thank God.

  The private suite had never seemed so far away. As he went up the steps, he began undoing his tie, then his belt. He kicked off his shoes in the living room, which Happy and Glorious found interesting enough to sniff. Then James went into his bedroom--empty--and practically ran the next few steps to Ben's room. There Ben sat on the bed, already naked, lazily stroking his cock.

  "Took you long enough," Ben said. "Get down here."

  Immediately James bent low, bracing his arms on either side of Ben's thighs, the better to get Ben's cock in his mouth. He slid his tongue eagerly around the head, the ridge, and sucked hard. Ben's hands gripped him by the hair, and he began to pump upward slightly, fucking James's mouth.

  James let him steer. Let him take control. Ben needed to feel like he was in control for a change--and James loved it.

  He kept sucking, kept surrendering to the way Ben moved him, until his mouth was so slick and salty that he felt sure Ben was about to come down his throat. But then Ben tugged at his hair, jerking James's head back so sharply he gasped.

  "On the bed," Ben said. "Get your clothes off."

  It took him a few seconds to wrestle off his trousers and pants, to shrug off his shirt--seconds Ben spent retrieving the lube and condoms.

  "Hands and knees," Ben said, and James obeyed, splaying himself across the bed. With a nudge of his knee, Ben got James's legs farther apart, and then his slicked-up fingers started doing their work. The knuckles burned as they pushed in, and immediately Ben found exactly the place to press. James's world went hazy at the edges.

  "Christ, Ben."

  "You're going to go back downstairs in a few minutes." How amused Ben's voice sounded. How distant--how above it all. That cool tone should have been maddening but instead it was hotter than hell. "Do you think they'll see how totally wrecked you are?"

  "Wreck me," James breathed.

  "They're going to see those red lips of yours and know I fucked your mouth. They're going to know I had you. They're going to know you're mine."

  James couldn't agree, couldn't even groan. He just kept panting, clutching the folds of the bedspread, as Ben's fingers worked deeper and deeper into him, pausing only briefly to snap on the condom, then returning to keep opening him up. Then Ben's hand slid out, and the head of his cock angled against James's ass. For a moment Ben teased him with it--pressing in almost
enough to penetrate, then pulling away, until James moved his hips back, using his body to beg. With a low animal sound of satisfaction, Ben clamped one hand around James's hip and thrust in hard.

  Then they were fucking like animals, Ben pounding into him as James pushed against each thrust. James braced his forearms against the bed and let the side of his face press against the mattress so that his hips were raised obscenely high, the better for Ben to take him hard. He heard himself crying out, though he never chose to do so; the cries were being torn from him.

  "You love this," Ben breathed.

  "Yes. God, yes."

  "You're a beautiful fuck, James. You're my beautiful fuck."

  "Yours."

  "Best sex of my life," Ben choked out, and then he slammed into James once more, twice, and he came. His desperate groan made James shudder with pure carnal satisfaction.

  He was slightly behind--but as soon as Ben pulled out, he reached around for James, squeezed tightly, and brought him over in seconds. Then they fell onto the bed, gasping and spent.

  I never thought I'd feel grateful to the tabloids, James thought.

  When James could speak again, he said, "By the way--in case it wasn't obvious--" He propped himself up on his elbows and smiled at Ben. "You're the best sex of my life too."

  Ben grinned that fierce grin of his. "Damned right I am."

  James leaned over and kissed him sweetly on the lips, then swung his legs out of bed. "And now I've got to get downstairs."

  Ben laughed as he rolled onto his back, that magnificent body of his sprawled naked across the bed, glistening with sweat. "You're a master of compartmentalization, you know that?"

  "Comes with the territory." As James began to snatch up his abandoned clothes, he smiled down at Ben. "I love you."

  "I love you too."

  James paused near the door on his way out, both to slide his shoes back on and check himself thoroughly in the mirror. It was one thing for Ben to imagine the world seeing James obviously fucked out--another for it to actually happen. He didn't intend to make his staffers feel awkward, and he had a lifetime's practice at smoothing himself into shape very quickly.

  Only when he was knotting his tie as he descended the stairs again did James realize he and Ben hadn't talked about what he planned to do about Fiona de Winter, and his work at Global Media. Oh, well. They'd go over it tonight.