To Target the Heart Page 14

  Frowning, Hamish leant back on the parapet, his arms folded. “I dinnae like where this ‘love story’ is going.”

  Darshan rolled his eyes. Trust me to find the impatient listener. His sisters were much the same way, wanting to know the end before the story could naturally reach its conclusion. His twin was the worst offender, sometimes going so far as to snatch whatever he was reading from his hands to skip ahead. Only the presence of a magical shield had ever stopped her.

  “I’m getting to that.” He cleared his throat and continued, “Unwilling to relinquish her lover, Araasi turned the woman into a ball of fire and mounted it atop her crown. According to the priestesses, she’s still there, hovering above the queen’s brow for all eternity. The first Flame Eternal.”

  Hamish stared at him, those stunning blue eyes bulging. “What? How is that a love story? Your goddess had an affair, then when her husband found out, she turned her lover into a ball of fire and then mounted her like some sort of jewel… forever?”

  “I—” Darshan gnawed on his bottom lip. “Well…” He’d never thought of it that way before. Everyone had always just accepted it as the priestesses said. The Flame Eternal was seen all over Udynea as a symbol of love and devotion. “I guess so. I do recall the priestesses mentioning that Araasi would see her lover returned to human form whenever it was safe.”

  Hamish threw up his arms and paced a few strides across the tower roof. “And that makes everything better.”

  “I can think of worse fates than to be the immortal lover of a gentle deity,” Darshan mumbled. Not that he had any experience of anything beyond flings from those who attempted to use him to climb the ranks. He humoured the more attractive ones, using them whilst offering nothing in return.

  The tale of Araasi and the Flame Eternal was meant to be something to aspire to. Beyond that, he had no examples to compare against. His mother had died birthing his twin, his father slept with any noblewoman in the hope of siring another son to take the burden off Darshan. Even his wedded half-sisters married for power over all else.

  He couldn’t imagine what it would be like living for love. It had been made plain early on in his life that such things were rare amongst the nobility.

  “I trust there is an explanation to my hurried escort out of your room,” Darshan said, knowing he could easily be setting himself up for a volatile response. Please, don’t be the whole ‘not you, but me’ dribble. “I must confess, I do not understand. Did I do something wrong?”

  Hamish shook his head. “I was hoping you’d nae ask.” Sighing, he tugged at his beard. “And you didnae do anything wrong. I did. I should nae have led you to believe we were free to rut in me room.”

  Darshan frowned. There was that word again. The one the man back in the pub had uttered, or something that sounded very close to it, at least. He hadn’t been given the translation and he had thought it was derogatory, but for Hamish to say it… “What do you mean we were not? It is your room, correct?”

  “Aye.” Hamish hung his head, his shoulders hunching like a chastened hound. “But the guards—the ones who escorted me after we kissed?—they are under orders to search me room if they’ve any reason to believe I’m nae alone.”

  “Search?” Darshan echoed, scarcely believing the man. “Like you are some sort of delinquent? Rather indecent of them.”

  Hamish nodded. “It’s been that way ever since I was seventeen.”

  He could almost understand having an eye kept on a young man still fumbling his way through the final years of adolescence. “But you are a grown man, now.”

  “Nae according to me mum. I’m nae married. I have nae bairns of me own. As far as she’s concerned, I am still her wee lad.” He peered at Darshan out the corner of his eye, an act Darshan was rather envious of—glasses had always made judging things on his periphery hazy at best. “I’m sorry I led you on. That’s actually what I came here to say. That and yesterday is as far as we can take this.”

  Darshan wrinkled his nose. The act dislodged his glasses, forcing him to push them back into their normal place. “Sorry?” he mumbled, recalling old words his father had spoken to him decades back. “I do not know how it is in Tirglas, but in Minamist, little boys apologise, men make amends.”

  Hamish leant on the parapet. He clasped his hands, resting his lips against them. But not before Darshan caught the twitch of a smile and the faint snort of laughter. “And how would you have me do that?”

  “Well, as satisfying as yesterday’s appetiser was, I will admit to a… mild disappointment. Stopping now is hardly fair when we barely got anywhere.” He pressed closer. “And I had rather been looking forward to the main course.”

  The spark of amusement that had illuminated Hamish’s eyes suddenly fizzled. “As much as I’d like to—and, believe me, I want to a lot—the risk that she’ll exile another ambassador isnae worth it.”

  “Another? You have done this before?” Small wonder Queen Fiona was upset with his arrival. She had probably guessed everything they’d already done, and then some.

  “Once,” Hamish confessed with a brief bob of his head. “The last time I set foot in the ambassadorial suite was when we entertained a visitor—a man, to be precise—from Dvärghem and…”

  “Let me guess,” Darshan supplied. “Your precise entertainment involved tumbling the man into bed?”

  Hamish nodded. “Those guards found me bed empty and searched the castle. Once they discovered us, I was dragged back to me chamber.” He hung his head. “It wouldnae have been any more embarrassing than if they paraded me through the halls as naked as the day I was born.”

  Darshan mentally shook himself, scattering the image of Hamish being bodily hauled through the castle’s tight corridors whilst stripped bare. “I beg your pardon, but did you just admit to getting a hedgewitch into your bed?” Even he hadn’t been successful there. Dwarven hedgewitches tended to be very serious about remaining celibate. “You naughty man.”

  Shock took Hamish’s face for a moment before a wide grin split it. “Well, I wouldnae say into. And it was quite a few years ago. Thirteen, if we’re being precise. I was cocky and foolish back then. Dinnae think me mum would do anything about it.” His gaze dropped and he picked at his nails. “She had me locked up for three days. By the time I was allowed to leave, the ambassador had been sent away. I spent the next month under house arrest. I’ve nae been with anyone since.”

  Darshan’s brows shot up in astonishment before he could control the expression. “Not in thirteen years?”

  Hamish vigorously shook his head, his hair bobbing behind him like a pennant snapping in the breeze. “Before yesterday, that was the last time it’s been anything other than a solo affair.”

  Darshan took a deep breath, his cheeks puffing as he exhaled. The very idea of going without sex for so long weakened his knees. “Yesterday evening? When you said it had been a while? I did not expect it to have been so long.”

  The man grunted.

  He silently stared out at the harbour for some time in some vain hope that the deep blue waters would hold an answer. His father might have made a number of attempts towards convincing him to lay with a woman—conceding from him having a wife to just long enough to sire an heir—but not once had he been made to feel that he couldn’t enjoy himself with another man. “I think I understand now. You do not wish to repeat the error of getting caught?”

  “Amongst other things,” Hamish muttered. “I willnae lie, yesterday was fun. But I wouldnae blame you if all this is more than you planned on dealing with.”

  It would’ve been, if Darshan had been back home where he had a myriad of options. If Hamish had been any other man beyond one from his darkest fantasies. If the man’s reaction to a simple kiss hadn’t been so explosive.

  Common sense told him to back away. “This is a jest, right?” He clasped Hamish’s arm, much to the man’s surprise. “If you want me to be more careful, then I shall.”

  Hamish stared at him as if
he’d suddenly sprouted extra eyeballs. “Have you got rocks in your head? I just said we cannae do it.”

  “I heard you, but what if we are discreet?”

  The man’s fiery-red brows twisted with disbelief.

  “I can do discreet.”

  “You snogged me in the middle of a pub,” Hamish pointed out. “Forgive me if I find to idea of you being discreet a little hard to swallow.”

  Yes, some years had passed since it had been required of him, but that was hardly a basis for his abilities. “All right, that was not one of my finest moments, but I was drunk and… curious.”

  The confusion-etched wrinkles around those brilliant, aquamarine-blue eyes deepened as amusement took over. “And horny?”

  Laughter bubbled through Darshan’s throat. “That, too.” Not that he had much hope of completely quashing the feeling once it dug its claws in, one of the barbs of being born into a strong magical bloodline.

  However, letting those emotions command his actions was inexcusable. The tales they would’ve told at court. Not that he had lived his life back home in any way free of scandal. “Do let me know if I get a bit much, I cannot always tell.”

  Hamish remained silent, but his brow twitched briefly in puzzlement. Over what, exactly? Just how well-informed was the Tirglasian population about spellsters in general much less their quirks?

  Darshan cleared his throat. He’d never had to explain this to someone before, they’d just known. “The current scientific theory is that strong magical bloodlines tend to also come with a heightened libido that lends itself to a greater chance of thinking with the loins rather than the head in… certain situations.”

  “I didnae say—” Hamish trailed off, his gaze distant as he stroked his beard. “I thought the Udynean court was full of strong spellsters? It must be interesting having them all in one place.”

  Only during the soirées. There was that one orgy in Madaara’s temple that had gotten quite out of hand during the yearly blessing of the Goddess of Wine’s bounty, although the unexpected potency of the alcohol imbibed at the festival could also be attributed to such hedonistic acts. He certainly hadn’t meant to unleash his magic when he had braced himself on Madaara’s statue, much less reduce twenty feet of carved marble and gilding to rubble.

  “It is not as bad you might think,” Darshan murmured, struggling to ignore the unfamiliar flush of heat invading his face over the memory. “Restraint is a highly prized trait.” One he routinely failed at displaying. “And, as you can see, I am more than capable of not ravishing you whenever we are alone.”

  Hamish laughed with a deep throaty rumble. “That’s a shame. I’ve nae been ravished before.”

  “How about starting small? It seems to me that sneaking more than a few kisses behind your mother’s back in the vein of a pair of horny teenagers is a thing that is long overdue.”

  “And you’re how old again?” Hamish’s open smile took off what could’ve easily been a harsher edge to his words.

  Grinning along with the man, Darshan bumped their hips together. “You are never too old to attempt sneaking things past your parents.”

  Whilst there was definitely a smidgen of agreement in the curve of his mouth, Hamish’s thick brows lowered. “You’d risk getting caught with me again and possibly exiled?”

  That last threat would’ve held more weight if exiling him, an ambassador offering only peace and trade, didn’t also carry the definite recourse of angering his father and the Udynean senate. And that was without factoring in his royal title. “Would you?”

  Hamish’s frown deepened.

  Darshan held up his hands, pleading forgiveness. “That was a poor comparison. You need not answer.” He rubbed at his temples with a single hand. “How about you come to my quarters tonight?”

  “What?”

  He tilted his head, peering up at the man through the outer edge of his glasses’ lens to find Hamish staring back at him. Those blue eyes should not have been so wide, especially after his actions last night, nor should they carry that hint of trepidation. “I would suggest your room, but I get the distinct impression that you would prefer it maintained its off-limits aura.” He could work with that. It would make things tricky, but interesting.

  Hamish nodded.

  “And, whilst I might not have had someone I could actually claim was my lover before, I—”

  “Neither have I,” Hamish blurted as if such a fact could be open to contestation.

  Darshan inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Then this will be somewhat virgin ground for the both of us.” He stressed those last few words, making sure that detail had reached Hamish. ”And we have yet to figure out each other’s tastes beyond a few fumbling moves.” On his part, at least. Hamish certainly knew what he was doing orally and Darshan was more than happy with that performance—the very thought of it sent a pleasant shiver through him—but it wasn’t much to base any sort of relationship on, even one forged solely for sex. “If we are to become paramours, we should perhaps see if our previous attempt at intimacy cannot be improved upon.”

  “Aye, but tonight? It’s nae that I’m averse to the idea, it’s just… real soon like.”

  Darshan bit the inside of his cheek, chasing his thoughts. He supposed engaging in a second night of intimacy in a row would seem an extremely short time after being forced to abandon any sort of sexual act for… How long had Hamish said?

  Thirteen years.

  He still couldn’t quite get his head around that scenario. To have to pretend, to constrain his emotions, to keep any friendship with another man at a distance least the worst was thought of such closeness… Darshan had some experience with the latter, but the rest was foreign. Not once had he ever been made to feel that he needed to hide any part of his being from the world.

  Punishment he understood—being in Tirglas was his punishment—but it was what he’d done and with whom, not that the act had been with a man.

  He gnawed on the inside of his lip as a frustration-laced sigh whistled out his nose. Why—Gods, why?—couldn’t the man he found utterly irresistible have been someone who had not spent almost two-thirds of his adult life forced into celibacy by their wretched mother? Their damn queen, no less. With a head full of ancient scriptures and her intentions only on ensuring her brood filled the world with more of her clan. Disgusting.

  I could walk away. That had been an option since he had first kissed the man. Not that he’d been able to shake Hamish from his dreams no matter how hard he tried. Were a few nights of pleasure worth dragging Hamish into a worse situation than the man was already in?

  He wished he had an objective enough stance on the matter to answer that truthfully.

  Darshan took hold of Hamish’s hands, coaxing the man to turn from the tower parapet. It wasn’t his choice to make alone, if at all. “I would understand if your preference is to remain as you are.” He wouldn’t be pleased, but he’d rather not begin at all than to prematurely part because he had made life worse for Hamish. “You just have to say ‘no’ and that will be the last you hear of it from me. I am not in the habit of forcing those who decline the offer into my bed.” Not that he generally had to offer. Or even try that hard when looking for a little fun. Someone was always willing to lay with their vris Mhanek and they generally weren’t backwards in coming forwards about their intentions.

  Hamish bit his lip, his mouth disappearing beneath his ruddy moustache as both it and his beard seemed to merge. “Dar…” The name escaped in a gentle puff of breath. Soft and intimate, the sort of sound Darshan could listen to over and over. “I think I made meself pretty clear that what I prefer rarely comes into it.” So quiet, those words. “I always make the wrong choice.” So convinced and dejected.

  That simply won’t do. If Darshan had been made of weaker stuff, maybe something inside would’ve cracked slightly. His chest did ache dreadfully, but it was an old sullen anger that bubbled in the depths. How dare they twist such a gentle man like Hamish a
nd make him believe he couldn’t be trusted to do what felt right to him. The very nerve.

  Any lingering thoughts of taking the easier path with backing out boiled away.

  He cradled Hamish’s head, urging the man lower until their foreheads touched. “I shall leave my door unlocked until midnight. If I do not see you, then understand I will press the matter no further. If it were my choice alone, I would have you at my side well before then.”

  Hamish wet his lips, the act shifting his beard enough to tickle Darshan’s chin. “If we’re found out…”

  “I have no fear of retribution.” What was the worst Queen Fiona could do to him, the vris Mhanek of the Udynean Empire? Kick him from her country? He’d damned well take Hamish with him if the man let him. “If you need me to, I shall stand at your side.” The statement was out before he could stop to think the words through. Damn his fool pride. But he was not leaving this land whilst Hamish believed himself the one at fault here. “And I trust it to be the right choice, whatever you choose.”

  The man’s hand caressed Darshan’s jaw, tilting it. Their lips brushed together. Soft. Hesitant. Hamish’s beard tickled however much Darshan tried to ignore it. He leant gingerly into each touch, barely breathing between kisses, fearful Hamish would pull away if he pushed.

  Their tongues entwined. Firm and insistent on his part, sweet and submissive on Hamish’s. It wasn’t quite enough. Darshan found his thoughts plunging into the idea of dropping to his knees and swallowing a great deal more than the man’s breath.

  No. With great reluctance, Darshan relinquished Hamish’s mouth. Not here. A part of him—the sensible and wary side that tended to reign over his actions back home that had all but melted at the sight of those blue eyes—now snapped back into action. “Does that mean I shall await your arrival?”