DefeatedbyLove (8 page)

Daniel watched as Barnabas spread open his trousers,
exposing the length of his aroused cock. Barnabas’ breathing barely hitched,
but there was a slight stutter that made Daniel’s cock jerk again, and a small
drop of liquid slid down the crown.

“Now what?” Daniel teased. “You are presented with the
evidence. I am a willing victim.”

Barnabas kneeled on the floor before him and Daniel had to
stop himself from exclaiming in shock. He’d never done something like that
before. Barnabas James always had to be in control. He held the reins so
tightly it choked those under him. He ran his hands up Daniel’s legs to his
thighs and spread them apart, sliding between them. “Well, now you shall
receive your reward.”

He leaned forward and took Daniel’s cock into his mouth as
if he were worshiping a holy relic. Daniel had to close his eyes at how good it
felt. There were very few people he’d trusted enough to do this to him.
Unbidden, a memory of Harry doing it, sucking him sweetly to completion, burst
behind his eyelids like a flash of lightning. He opened his eyes immediately
and looked down at Barnabas. He was moving up and down on his overheated flesh,
the cool wake of his kisses causing goose flesh along Daniel’s legs. When he
slid down until Daniel was buried to the root in the hot, wet cavern of his
mouth, Daniel whimpered. He didn’t care. It felt that delicious, and watching
as this strong, hard man did it with relish made the experience even more
erotic. He thought of how many lives Barnabas had either saved or ruined today,
and the leashed power of his lover made him jerk his hips and fuck into that
decadent mouth.

Barnabas smiled around his cock and opened his eyes, pinning
Daniel with a hot, aroused stare. It was the only thing he ever revealed, and
Daniel thought it was probably unwilling. If he could fuck without any trace of
emotion he’d be happy. But those eyes, so dark brown they looked like shards of
obsidian, gave away his need. It was why he usually liked to fuck from the
back. If you couldn’t see him, you wouldn’t know his weaknesses.

He sucked deeply on Daniel’s cock, holding him far in his
throat, his cheeks hollowing with each pull, and then he placed his hands over
Daniel’s on the desk and picked them up. He placed them on either side of his
head, and Daniel burrowed his hands in the slick silk of his thick hair,
gripping him tightly, and began to fuck his mouth. Barnabas closed his eyes as a
shudder passed through him and he nodded. That was what he’d wanted.

Daniel braced his feet, his legs spread far apart, his rump
still resting on the desk, and he fucked in and out while Barnabas moved his
head back and forth. It was decadent and delicious. He thought of all the times
he’d wanted to shut Barnabas up, all the times he’d seduced Daniel with words
and left only regret behind, and he fucked that guilty mouth with pleasure and
purpose.

Barnabas relaxed in his hold, falling deeper onto his heels,
his head thrown back, his throat moving and he was gorgeous. His hands suddenly
reached up and gripped Daniel’s arse, holding him tightly, and they fought a
battle for control, but Daniel knew he was going to lose. The tight grip of
Barnabas’ lips wrapped around his cock, the heat, the wet, the powerful pull
each time Barnabas swallowed around him, all of it was dragging his climax out
of him inexorably, until it was right there hovering on the edge of his
awareness. The exquisite torture of holding it back had Daniel on his toes, his
eyes closed, his head thrown back and a low growl coming from his mouth.

Barnabas pulled harder on him, sucked him so deep Daniel
could feel his heartbeat and he jerked his head up and stared down at Barnabas.
Their eyes met and he lost control. He came hard, bending low, gripping
Barnabas’ hair in his fists and shoving his cock into his throat.

When he was done he let go of Barnabas and fell back on the
desk, his hands braced behind him. He was out of breath and felt the sort of
lethargy that only lovers knew. He looked down at Barnabas who merely smiled
triumphantly and licked his lips.

Daniel laughed. “Why is it even though I’m the one who just
came in your mouth, I feel like you won, again?”

“Because I always win. It’s who I am.” Barnabas stood up and
dusted off his pant legs. “I take it that was more satisfactory than that silly
boy.”

“You know it was.” Daniel held out his hand and Barnabas
pulled him up. He adjusted his trousers while inspecting Barnabas. “It would
seem you’ve a bit of a problem there,” he said, pointing at Barnabas’ erection
jutting out the front of his trousers.

“I was thinking of delegating that problem,” Barnabas said
with a mock frown.

“Let me handle it,” Daniel offered. He shoved Barnabas back
until he fell onto the sofa and he immediately ripped open his trousers,
wrapping his fist around Barnabas’ cock. For such a powerful, controlling man
he had a rather average cock. But the things he could do with it were far from
average. Daniel could swear that when Barnabas was fucking him, his cock was
twice as big, no matter he knew the truth. It was beautiful in a foreign kind
of way. Darker-skinned than the rest of him, with a reddish-brown crown. Daniel
sometimes imagined it was the cock of a great sultan. He didn’t think he was
far off the mark. If Barnabas had been born and raised in the desert he would
surely fit that description.

“Are you going to paint it or suck it?” Barnabas asked,
leaning back at ease and watching Daniel, his hands at his sides as Daniel held
the most delicate part of him in his fist. This was such a trusting act, wasn’t
it? He could do anything he liked right now, as Barnabas could have a moment
ago. The sheer enormity of trust that it required to let someone do this was
staggering.

“Thank you,” Daniel whispered.

Barnabas frowned. “Whatever for?” He gestured to the desk.
“That? I told you, I won that round.”

“And this one?” Daniel asked with a smirk. He leaned over
and licked along the underside of Barnabas cock and watched his breathing
deepen as he did so.

“Oh, I’m winning this one too,” Barnabas said. He cupped
Daniel’s cheek and then gripped the side of his head and pulled him down. “Now
suck. I’d rather come in your mouth than on your Aubusson carpet.”

Daniel gladly opened his mouth and did as asked. He didn’t
get to do this often enough either. He liked it. Loved the taste of a cock in
his mouth and the desperation he could feel from another man as he sucked a
climax out of him. But Barnabas rarely gave him the desperation. More often
than not it was victory he tasted in Barnabas’ release.

Barnabas’ breathing grew rough and Daniel glanced up to see
his eyes closed, his brows lowered as he concentrated on what Daniel was doing
to him. He slid his hand into his trousers and cupped Barnabas’ testicles,
rolling them in his palm and fingers and he was rewarded by Barnabas thrusting
into his mouth. He closed his fist around those delicate globes and Barnabas
shuddered and he tasted the first leaking precursor to Barnabas’ climax. He leaned
over and took his whole cock in his mouth, the edge teasing his throat, and
swallowed and sucked and tasted his skin and felt the tickle of his pubic hair
on his lips. He wished he could come again, wanting to erupt at the same time
Barnabas filled his mouth.

Barnabas threw his head back and pulled Daniel’s hair with
the force of his grip and then he came, silently and hard, his seed bursting
against the back of Daniel’s throat in a hot wash of release that he swallowed
convulsively while a pale shadow of pleasure shook him.

When it was over Barnabas gently pushed him away. He
buttoned his trousers efficiently and stood, looking calm and cool, as if he
hadn’t just climaxed in Daniel’s mouth and didn’t even now have Daniel’s
release warming his belly.
The bastard
. Daniel was quite sure he looked
like he’d been thoroughly tossed.

As he was heading for the door, Barnabas said, “I shall help
you find him.”

“What?” Daniel asked. He’d been standing there running his
hands through his hair, trying to regain enough respectability to walk through
the hall to his room. At Barnabas’ offer his hands dropped to his sides likes
stones.

Barnabas turned at the door and faced him, an enigmatic
smile on his face. “I know you need to find him to get rid of his wife, correct?”

Daniel pursed his lips, debating how much he wanted to tell
Barnabas. He wasn’t even sure he wanted him involved at all.

“Come now,” Barnabas said, chastising him. “You know I have
the resources to find him, far more than you do at least. A wayward husband
hardly presents a challenge to my men. I shall find him, he can take her away,
and your life goes back to the way it was. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Yes,” Daniel agreed warily. “But at what price?”

“What price indeed,” Barnabas said with a tsk. “How can you
ask that? Friendship prompts my offer, of course.”

“Of course,” Daniel said sarcastically. He sighed. “Fine.
Find him for me. I don’t like it, and I know I’ll have hell to pay, but it’s
worth it.”

“I’m sure it is.” Barnabas’ smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“It’s about time Ashbury answered for his actions, isn’t it?” With that he
turned and walked out before Daniel had the chance to ask exactly what he
meant.

Damn.

“Daniel, how do you spell Bysshe?”

Christy sat on the sofa in the study, peering closely at the
book in front of her. She’d been there for two weeks. Well, not on the sofa,
but in his house. He hadn’t heard from Barnabas, his own inquiries had all
reached dead ends, and Harry was still missing. He wasn’t sure what to do with
her. She, on the other hand, had settled into his household.

It wasn’t as terrible as he’d thought it would be. He was
rather used to her now. She was quieter than he’d anticipated. Most women he
knew chattered incessantly. Just look at Very. And she hadn’t bothered Cook. He
thought women were supposed to look at menus or something like that. Apparently
Christy was perfectly content to let Cook make her own way. As a result their
meals had actually become more like feasts. Matheson said Cook felt pregnant
women needed to eat more. Unfortunately it was Daniel eating more. He’d done an
extra hour of riding and foolish exercises with Simon yesterday to make up for
it. First he’d chopped a log and then he carried it around, back and forth.
Simon had come up with it. Something he’d done in the country. What utter
rubbish. Now Daniel was sore and irritable.

“As in Percy Shelley? That Bysshe?”

“Yes,” she said. “I do believe the printer has got it wrong
here.”

“I daresay you’re right,” Daniel said. “It has two esses.”

“Oh.” She sounded a little dejected. “Then he got it right.
I got it wrong.”

Daniel cleared his throat. “It is an unusual name.” He
wondered if he ought to just move on or try to make her feel better. “I myself
am not a good speller.”

She smiled, but it was weak. “I find that hard to believe.
You are good at everything.”

“Such as?” he asked, amused.

“Chess and spelling and dressing and dining,” she said,
listing it all off on her fingers.

“Enough,” Daniel said. “You needn’t enumerate my charms, my dear.
I’m well aware of them. If there’s one I do not lack, it is self-esteem.” He
preened like a cat, smoothing his jacket lapels. At her wistful look, however,
he grew alarmed. “You’re not falling in love with me, are you?” he asked,
horrified.

At that she burst out laughing. “Goodness no! What a silly
notion. Why on earth would I do that?”

He was a little affronted at her reaction. “Well, as you
said, I’m good at everything.”

“Everything except being attracted to women,” she said,
laughter in her voice. “I’d have to be a complete ninny to fall in love with a
man who couldn’t return my affections. How awful that would be. Common sense
forbids it.”

Her words were like a slap in the face and he stood
abruptly, setting his paper and his teacup down with a slap and a thud.

“Of course,” he said crisply. “Idiotic idea.” Although it’s
exactly what he’d done, wasn’t it?

“Oh, now I’ve made you cross,” she said worriedly. She set
down her book and stood with only a slight hesitation. She carried the child
well. With only a few months to go, she was still quite attractive and not at
all big. Very had been enormous, as had his other friend, Kate. He’d thought
they were both going to deliver colts. “Where is Simon?” she asked with a
little huff. “He always knows how to make light of my thoughtlessness.”

Simon had been making more love than light with Christy, but
Daniel refrained from saying so. As his good friend—best, really—Simon had
always spent a great deal of time here. Now he was practically living here, and
Daniel was relatively sure he’d been slowly seducing Christy. But he was at a
loss how to stop it. They were adults, after all. The two had eyes only for
each other. That is, until Robert showed up. Then Christy was clearly torn
between them.

Robert had been a frequent visitor as well. And he’d stopped
asking when Mr. Ashbury was going to return. But Robert was tongue-tied and
awkward around Christy, so Daniel was relatively sure there’d been no advances
made there. Christy was positively glowing with the attention she was receiving
from both men. Daniel saw a wreck of disastrous proportions on the horizon.
Simon was emotionally incapable of love and commitment, and Christy was legally
incapable of it. What a muddle.

It was all Harry’s fault.

That had been their constant refrain. But it was becoming
clear that something would have to be done. He absolutely refused to let her
deliver that baby on the premises. He’d never get rid of her then.

He ignored the sad little sigh that escaped when he thought
of her gone.

“Simon has scampered off to who knows where, as usual,” he
told her. “He does that quite often.”

“He does?” she asked. She bit her lip and looked upset. “I
didn’t know.”

God save him from the delicate sensibilities of good women.
“I do believe he is at the bank,” he assured her. “He had some business to
discuss there.”

Her face brightened. “Oh, is he a man of business? We never
talked about that.”

“He is a man of many things,” Daniel said, evading her
question. “One of them might be business.”

“Is that what you do?” she asked innocently. “You live very
well, but you are a Jew and not titled. Where do you derive your income?”

Daniel froze for a moment at the inappropriateness of her
question. He reminded himself she was from the country and not used to the mores
of polite society. “I inherited money from my father, which I’ve invested
wisely with the help and advice of friends. I also earned quite a few bounties
during the war, which added to my wealth.” He saw no reason not to tell her the
truth. “But we do not discuss the source of a person’s wealth, Christy. It is
considered bad manners.”

She blushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She sat silently
for a moment. “It seems to me that it ought to be discussed,” she burst out
rather indignantly, surprising him. “It would certainly solve a lot of problems
wouldn’t it? Young girls being married by scoundrels and sharps and whatnot. I
read just yesterday of a little old lady who had lost all her money to a
deceiving charlatan. If she’d just asked him what he did for a living, I’m sure
it never would have happened. Don’t you think?”

Sometimes he really adored her. “Yes, I do think so. Perhaps
you ought to keep asking. Ask Simon.” He wanted to hear that conversation.
Simon was a bit of a charlatan himself.

“I suppose I shouldn’t ask what Sir Barnabas James was doing
here the other night, either,” she said, being quite impertinent. “But I’ve
been stewing about it for days.”

Daniel snapped his mouth shut and stared at her.

“Yes,” she declared, “I know who he is. Harry told me all
about him, and about how he saved Harry’s life only to force him out of
Portugal.”

“Force him out of Portugal?” Daniel said in a strangled
voice. “I saw Harry before he left and there was very little force required to
put him on a ship bound for England, and your happy nuptials.”

“Is Sir Barnabas your lover?” she demanded.

“Madam, that is none of your business,” Daniel replied
coldly.

“Oh, I know it isn’t,” Christy said miserably, sitting down
again with a very dejected air. “But I don’t trust him.” She looked up at
Daniel. “You shouldn’t either. He’s very underhanded.”

“How on earth do you know so much about Sir Barnabas?”
Daniel asked incredulously, not denying her remark.

“I told you, Harry told me,” she said.

“Well, Sir Barnabas is going to help us find Harry,” Daniel
told her, “so you’d better try to be nice to him.”

“He hasn’t been back,” she said logically. “Why?”

“Another question you shouldn’t ask,” Daniel replied in wry
tone. “Never ask why. There’s a very likely chance you don’t want to know the
answer, or someone doesn’t want to tell you.”

Christy stuck out her tongue. “I still think there are too
many unasked questions in London,” she told him.

“You are getting very saucy, miss,” Daniel said, shaking a
finger at her.

There was a knock at the door. “There is Simon,” Daniel
said. “Just in time for dinner.” He waved Matheson off and went to get the door
himself. “You can ask him all your questions instead of me.”

But when he opened the door it wasn’t Simon.

“Hello, Daniel,” Harry said softly when Daniel just stood
there staring. “It’s been a very long time.”

He was so tall. Taller than he’d been at nineteen. And
harder. The planes of his face were sharp and dangerous. He was so tan that the
lines around his one eye stood out in stark relief, as if he’d been squinting
against the sun. The patch over his right eye was brown leather, worn and
unfamiliar and a harsh reminder that he wasn’t the man Daniel had known. He was
someone else now. Someone who had left him and deserted Christy and disappeared
for months until they’d thought him dead. Daniel had grieved for him. He’d been
grieving for ten goddamn years.

He didn’t think twice before he pulled back his fist and
punched Harry right in the face.

Harry saw it coming and took the punch anyway. He deserved
it. In a perverse way he relished the sting of it as his head jerked back and
he stumbled on the step, grabbing the railing there for balance before he
tumbled onto his arse.

Daniel just stood there staring at him wide-eyed and angry,
breathing heavily through his nose, his lips pursed. He was positively
gorgeous. Everything he’d been ten years ago and everything Harry had dreamed
he’d become. His punch proved he hadn’t lost an ounce of fight, either.

“I suppose I’m lucky you haven’t got a knife,” he said,
wiping the blood off his lip. “I’ve seen how handy you are with those.”

“I could still kill you with my bare hands,” Daniel said
coldly.

Harry didn’t even hear the words, just the voice. It was
deeper than he’d remembered, but most of the words he’d said to Harry all those
years ago had been whispered in his ear. His inflection was the same, crisp and
educated and slightly contemptuous. At least, that’s how he’d talked to
everyone else. For Harry it had been different. He’d been softer for him, gentler
and sweeter and desperate.

He didn’t look sweet now, that was for damn sure. Well, ten
years
was
a long time to make up your mind to win the heart of your true
love.

“Get in here,” Daniel barked and backed away from the door.

“Not exactly a warm welcome, but I’ll take it,” Harry said
with a grin. It hurt his split lip and he winced and pulled a ragged
handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it against the cut.

He stepped into the hallway and saw a rather pretty pregnant
woman standing in a doorway, staring at him anxiously. He stumbled. Not once,
not in all the years he’d been gone, had he considered Daniel might marry.
He’d
married
. Harry’s mind went blank as all his plans fell to pieces around
him.

“Daniel?” she asked in a small voice.

Harry looked between the two of them and Daniel walked over
to her side, cupping her elbow. “Come on,” he said, his voice still clipped.
“You might as well say hello. It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Well, here he is.
Harry Ashbury in the flesh.” Daniel practically dragged her over and then they
both waited expectantly.

What she wanted? What the hell did that mean? “How do you
do?” he asked slowly, dabbing his lip and putting the handkerchief away. “Harry
Ashbury.”

“You don’t know who she is?” Daniel asked incredulously.

“Should I?” Harry asked, pretty sure it was only going to
exacerbate the situation, whatever the situation was, that is.

She began to laugh. It was high-pitched and a little wild
and quite relieved. Harry took a step back. “He doesn’t know me,” she said, wiping
tears off her cheeks. “How humiliating and typical. He really did forget about
me.”

Harry knew without a doubt the babe she carried was not his.
He hadn’t shagged a woman since his unfortunate wedding night—

His thoughts stopped right there and he peered closely at
her. “Christine? Christy?” he asked with a great deal of hesitation.

“It’s about time you remembered your own wife, you worthless
bastard,” a voice snarled from the door behind him.

Harry spun around, instinctively recognizing that the threat
of danger in the room was coming from that direction, and not from Christy or
Daniel. A gentleman was already coming for him, and he ducked the fist that
flew toward him, slid around behind him when his own momentum kept him moving
and slammed him against the wall, holding him there with a forearm across the
back of his neck.

“Simon,” Christy yelled. She came rushing over and hit Harry
in the shoulder with her little fist. “Unhand him,” she demanded.

“Not if he’s going to try to assault me again,” Harry said
calmly. “I don’t even know who the hell he is.”

The man was making gurgling noises that Harry was pretty
sure would be curses if he wasn’t being choked against the wall.

“It’s Simon Gantry, you clod,” Daniel said in disgust. “You
knew him in Portugal.”

Harry let go immediately. “You don’t say?” He grinned at
Simon who was glaring at him, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, then, how do
you do, Mr. Gantry? Pleasure to see you again.” He held out his hand.

Simon ignored his hand. “I ought to thrash you,” he said,
his teeth clenched.

“Well, you could try,” Harry said reasonably, “but you
wouldn’t succeed. The only one who gets in a punch is Daniel.”

“He did incapacitate you rather handily,” Daniel said wryly.
“Perhaps we could move this homecoming into the study. I believe the neighbors
are starting to notice the brawl in my entry.”

At that the door was quickly closed by a servant. Gantry
grabbed Christy’s hand and dragged her into a room to their right.

“You look grand,” Harry told Daniel, putting his hand on his
arm and holding him back. “Just as I’d imagined you would.”

“You don’t,” Daniel told him flatly. “I scarcely recognized
you. I don’t even know who you are anymore.” He tried to shake Harry’s hand
off.