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Relief flooded through him. The thought of being dependent on others was anathema to him. He grunted out his thanks and tapped his way across the hall, conscious of Paul at his elbow, giving quiet guidance. His ankle pained him, but no more than he could stand.

“Okay, we’re at the foot of the stairs. Careful after four steps because the staircase turns there.”

“That’s where I fell,” Adam said with a sigh.

“Well, you won’t fall this time.” Paul’s voice rang with confidence. “Use the balustrade, and my arm if you need to.”

Adam reached out and grasped the smooth wood. He paused. “I’m not familiar with the house,” he admitted. “I mean, I used to come here as a child, but that was more than twenty years ago.” He took a deep breath. “Maybe it was a mistake, moving back here.”

“We can talk about this another time,” Paul told. “Right now we’ve got a schedule to keep.”

Adam liked Paul’s practicality. “You’re right.” Slowly, carefully, Adam climbed the stairs, the carpet thick beneath his bare feet, Paul telling him how many steps were ahead of him. When he reached the top, he couldn’t contain his smile. “Where next?” He knew the layout of the rooms, had been familiar with them as a child, but that was a whole lifetime ago and he’d only been back in the house a few weeks. It was to Paul’s credit that out of all the previous companions, he’d been the only one to get Adam upstairs.

“Ahead of you are two doors. The bathroom is straight ahead, your bedroom to the right.”

Adam nodded and walked forward until his cane hit the bottom of the door. He pushed it open. “When I arrived here, Caroline said the bathroom had been refurbished before my grandfather died. There used to be a huge bath, I recall.”

“There’s a pedestal bath now,” Paul told him, “and my advice would be to avoid it. Climbing in and out of that thing? Yeah, so not a good idea. The shower’s big, though.” He gave Adam a description of the room’s layout, and then guided him to the shower, placing his hands on the controls. “These are simple to operate. There’s the one lever. Pull out for water, move left for hot, right for cold. The only thing to be careful of is the glass screen.”

Adam reached out to touch it, using both hands to work out the distance between the tiled wall and the glass partition. “Okay, I have this.”

“You want me to get the shower running?”

Adam turned in Paul’s direction. “I can do this.” This was now a matter of pride. When Paul didn’t move, Adam inclined his head. “You’re not going to insist on watching me like a hawk while I shower, are you?”

Paul snorted. “No. I was wondering… I can understand why falling made you wary of climbing the stairs, but how did you get up here before that?”

“I didn’t.” He didn’t want to talk about that. Paul was right, time was not on their side. “Let’s discuss this some other time.” Then he had a thought. “What is there to wash with in here?”

Paul moved away from him. “There’s a tall cabinet in the corner.” A hinge creaked. “There’s all kinds of things in here: soap, shampoo, body wash. Aha!”

Adam couldn’t miss the triumphant note in his voice. He smirked. “Body wash gets you excited, huh?”

Paul let out a chuckle. “I’ve found your shaving equipment, that’s all.” A clatter of sounds. “I’ll leave these out for when you’re done, and I’ll put the body wash and shampoo bottles against the wall of the shower, on the floor.”

“Thank you.” Just because Adam could be a bastard at times didn’t mean he wasn’t a grateful one. Taking a shower in his own house may not have been much in the grand scheme of things, but it was another step toward his goal—regaining his independence. And after weeks of washing with hand soap, because that was all he could find in that dratted cloakroom, he was more than ready for a long shower.

“I could sort out a pair of jeans and a clean shirt while you’re showering,” Paul suggested. “Unless you want to go for a haircut in your sweatpants?”

Yet again, he had a point. Add to that the fact that Caroline and her son, Dean, had unpacked his clothing, and Adam was left not knowing where anything was. Maybe Paul had his uses after all. “Use the time while I’m in the shower to work out the location of my clothes, will you? I want to know what’s been put where.” And if he wasn’t happy with it, then changes could be made.

“Yes, sir.” Adam didn’t miss Paul’s response. He wondered at the choice of words, and then thought about the brusque manner in which he’d spoken to Paul. It was in a voice that expected to be obeyed.

It seemed climbing those stairs had been more than getting past his fall. If he could do it once, he could do it again. A small measure of control was suddenly back in his hands, and Adam was anxious for more.

I can do this.

Chapter Six

Paul laid out the clothes on the bed, the sound of the shower running in the background. He’d already sussed out where all the different items of clothing were, and once he’d shown Adam, there were no more excuses. Adam had proved he could climb the stairs: Paul had done little but be there in case of a fall, but it was obvious with each step that Adam’s confidence was growing.

Paul had felt awkward at first, going through the wardrobe and drawers, until he realized something: there was nothing personal in that room. The surfaces were devoid of clutter, so much so that it would have resembled a hotel room, except for the bed.

It was a four poster bed, its headboard a simple filigree pattern of interwoven vines carved from the wood, leaving open spaces between the coiling stems. Four slender posts rose, one at each corner, the vines carved around the base, curling upward to end with a point. The bed dominated the room, somehow in keeping with the age of the house, its old-fashioned satin bedspread only adding to its beauty. Paul stroked the soft, aged peach covering, heavily quilted. He could imagine snuggling under it in the middle of winter, feeling its thickness warm him, creating a feeling of being safe and cozy.

It was then he realized the shower had stopped.

Paul went to the bathroom door. He didn’t want to ask if all was okay: in his head he could hear all too plainly Adam’s derisive snort. Paul was under no illusions: this was a temporary truce to get Caroline out of Adam’s hair. He had no doubt that once this had been accomplished, normal service would be resumed. He couldn’t deny, however, that the brief cessation of hostilities had been pleasant. When he wasn’t being brusque, there were hints that Adam might have been a nice man.

He was certainly a sexy man, that much Paul could attest to. He’d caught himself wondering more than once what the sweatpants and T-shirt hid beneath their thin layers.

Don’t keep him waiting.
As if Adam needed more excuses to be terse. Paul pushed open the door to the bathroom and entered.

“Ready for your shave?”

It was all he could do not to catch his breath at the sight that awaited him.

Adam stood behind the shower screen, caught in the act of drying his hair. His arms were raised, a towel over his head, and Paul was able to feast his gaze on that lean body. Thank goodness: Adam had a real body, not one that would have graced the pages of a magazine. His belly was flat, the skin taut, covered with a layer of dark hair that grew denser as it reached the base of his dick. His chest was well-defined, with dark brown nipples that stood proud. Paul had a thing for chest hair, not too much, but enough to imagine curling his fingers through it, and Adam didn’t have an overabundance of it.

Paul’s gaze was drawn down once more to that cock, not too long in its flaccid state, but wide enough to make him drool. His imaginings had been realized.

His employer was
hot
.

Adam slowly lowered the towel, seemingly unfazed by standing nude in Paul’s presence. He pushed back the mass of black curls and Paul caught his breath at the first sight of Adam’s eyes. He remembered how startlingly blue they’d been on Google. In his head he’d pictured Adam removing his glasses to reveal those eyes, imagining them staring at him, as if they could see his every thought.

But this was reality.

The deep blue hue was dimmed, covered in a milky haze. The whites of Adam’s eyes were bloodshot. His pupils were enlarged, unresponsive. And the final nail was driven in with one painful realization that made a mockery of his imagination:
Adam can’t see me. Those once beautiful eyes will
never
see me.

“How do you want to do this?”

Adam’s question brought him back into the present with a jolt. Paul pulled himself together. Adam had wrapped the towel around his body and was fastening it at his hips, his head turned in Paul’s direction, his eyebrows arched.

“I was going to bring in a chair from the bedroom and sit you in front of the wash basin.”

Adam nodded, those eyes still focused on Paul. “Then do it.”

Paul shook his head and exited the bathroom in search of the chair.

Being civil wouldn’t choke you, God damn it!

He knew Adam was his employer, but the abruptness of his speech was wearisome. He knew he shouldn’t let it get to him, but that was easier said than done.

Paul carried the chair into the large bathroom and set it down in front of the pedestal wash basin. “Ready.” He let Adam find his own way to it, his instincts telling him that was best. Adam moved cautiously, hands reaching out to touch the porcelain and then feeling for the chair. He sat down, and Paul took a clean towel from the bale in the corner, draping it over Adam’s chest and down over his shoulders. He picked up the hair trimmer and was disconcerted to find his hands were trembling.

“Well,
I’m
ready,” Adam said dryly.

Paul regarded him for a moment, trying to work out how best to achieve his task.

“I always find, when shaving someone, it’s a good idea to stand in front of them,” Adam added. “Cutting and shaving someone from the side can be awkward.” He stretched out his long legs in front of him, feet together, and then patted his thighs. “Why don’t you straddle my legs? That way, you have everything within reach.” There was more than a hint of teasing amusement in his expression.

The thought of standing astride Adam’s legs, his own spread wide, was enough to have Paul’s dick filling and send the blood rushing to his cheeks.

“I’ll manage,” he said, cursing his voice that cracked on the last syllable.

“Only wanted to help.”

In that moment, it was obvious to Paul that his employer was enjoying himself. He cleared his throat and began to trim Adam’s beard, cutting it as close to the skin as he could. Adam’s jawline was firm beneath the coarse, black hair. The thought of that beard rubbing against his cheek while Adam kissed him sent a shiver skating down Paul’s spine.

Kissed him?

Paul began to think that Taylor, Mark and Sam had a point. It had been far too long since he’d gotten laid. He pushed the delicious fantasy aside and concentrated on his task, the trimmed hairs catching in the towel.

“You all right?”

Paul became still. “Yes, why do you ask?”

Adam gave a shrug. “Had a feeling for a moment back there that you were… distracted.” He reached up and stroked his jaw. “Are you ready to shave me?”

Paul nodded, and then cursed himself for forgetting. “Yes. D’you want me to use the disposable razor or the straight blade?” He took the towel from around Adam’s neck and shook the hair into the bin by the basin. Then he replaced it over Adam’s chest once more, leaving his neck clear.

“That would depend on the sharpness of the blade,” Adam told him. “It’s been a while since I used it.”

Paul opened up the razor and carefully felt along its silvery thin length with a fingertip. “Oh, it’s sharp enough.” He closed it up and laid it on the shelf above the basin.

“Have you used one of these before?”

“Once.” Paul’s dad had let him shave him when Paul had begun shaving seriously. It had been a scary experience.

Those dark eyebrows lifted. “Should I be concerned?”

Paul ignored the slightly mocking tone and filled the basin with warm water. He sprayed shaving gel into his palm, worked it into a thick lather and then smeared it all over Adam’s jaw and neck. After washing his hands, Paul picked up the razor and carefully, so carefully, scraped it in a downward motion over Adam’s face, starting near his ear. Adam sat still but for the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the towel.

Their closeness, so close that Paul swore Adam could feel Paul’s breath on his cheek, the care Paul was taking with the blade, the way he never took his gaze off Adam’s face, and those eyes…. Paul swallowed. There was something about the situation that he couldn’t put his finger on, something to do with the way it looked, Paul in front of Adam, the heady silence woven between the two of them. It felt… intimate. Sensual. And it was turning him on.

He worked steadily, rinsing the blade and tilting Adam’s head now and then to provide a better angle. When he lifted Adam’s chin with a couple of fingers to work on his neck, Adam gave a half smile.

“Careful, now.”

As if his nerves weren’t bad enough to start with.

Paul took a deep breath, leaned in closer and scraped the sharp blade up Adam’s neck, going slowly as he neared his Adam’s apple. When the skin was devoid of hair and Paul straightened, both men exhaled. Paul let the water drain before running fresh warm water into the basin. He dipped a wash cloth into it, wrung it out and then wiped over Adam’s now smooth face.

“Well? Does that look better?” Adam’s voice held the merest hint of sarcasm. He rubbed his hand over his bare skin.

Paul stepped back to assess his handiwork.

If ‘better’ means I have this urge to brush my lips along your jawline, and I’m as hard as a fucking rock, then yeah.

“Yes.” It was all he trusted himself to say in the circumstances. “If you wait a sec, I’ll put the chair back, then I’ll talk you through where all your clothes are located.”

When Adam stood, Paul took the chair back into the bedroom and then stood in the doorway. Adam had picked up his cane and was walking toward him, his dark glasses once more in place. “Is there still a four-poster bed? I can’t imagine Caroline getting rid of it.”