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Don t get all indignant with me. He could hear the snap in his tone, but he couldn t stop himself.
I think my assumption is a very valid one. Not as if I scrubbed your floors or tended to your garden. I
earned my wages on my back. That s the only sort of recommendation you can give how good of a
fuck I am.
Max s hand tightened around his fork. Hell, his whole body tightened. As did Tristan s. For a reason
he couldn t explain, he was suddenly very up for an argument with Max. Hackles raised and a retort
just waiting to form on his tongue.
Max let out a heavy breath, his shoulders slumping. This isn t going how I d hoped.
Supper will not end in my bed, Max.
Tristan pointedly turned his attention back to his plate and focused on cutting a piece of chicken.
Max would leave now. It couldn t work between them anyway. Max didn t want Tristan for himself.
Max wanted someone who would warm his bed without complaint, and that man wasn t Tristan
anymore.
Still, that didn t mean he wanted to actually watch Max walk away from him.
He brought his fork to his mouth but the chicken tasted like ash, dry yet thick on his tongue. He had
to force himself to swallow it down.
A hand rested on his forearm, gave it a gentle squeeze. Tristan, tonight isn t about me trying to get
back into your bed.
Then what is it about, Max? There was that snap in his voice again, harsh and defensive.
Yet Max didn t rise to the challenge. What I begged for this morning. A chance to prove to you
that I can be what you need.
I need someone who won t... Catching the words before they could leave his mouth, Tristan shook
his head and turned his attention back to his plate.
Won t what?
He set down his fork. Met Max s intent gaze. Those dark brown eyes that begged Tristan to confide
in him. Someone who won t look on me as a whore. There. He d said it. It was at the root, the very
core, of all his worries, of all his concerns about a real relationship with Max.
I don t, Tristan. A vow, a pledge, spoken in that same quiet tone.
But that s what I ve always been to you.
Max shook his head. No. You ve been a man I greatly enjoy being with who enjoyed being with
me. I went to Rubicon s because I refused to risk repeating the past and being alone...well, it s damned
lonely. I didn t want to be so alone anymore. Yes, I tried to convince myself if I paid you then it
would keep everything in perspective for me. But truthfully? One night with you was all it took. I just
wanted to be with you again.
Tristan s breaths turned shallow. He was caught in Max s dark gaze. Caught by the sincerity, the
stark, bare honesty.
Slowly breaching the distance between them, Max leaned forward. His hand coasted up Tristan s
arm to cup his jaw. Tristan felt himself leaning toward Max. Their breaths mingled.
I ve missed you, Max whispered against his lips. Tempting him, begging him to give in to the
intrinsic pull between them.
The memory of Max s kiss, the taste of him, the weight of his body pressing Tristan s into the
mattress, the strong comforting arm slung across his waist, holding him... Tristan wanted it again.
Needed it. Needed Max.
Tristan jerked back. I can t. Not yet.
Max didn t sigh in frustration. He didn t push. He didn t cajole. He merely let his hand drop from
Tristan s jaw and straightened in his chair. I understand.
Do you really?
Max nodded. I have a lot of ground to make up with you. I know that. I also have patience. Haven t
shown that to you much, but it s a trait I do possess. Will you allow me to come for supper tomorrow
night?
Yes. He prayed he wouldn t come to regret that yes. Hope, once indulged, would hurt so much
more when taken away. And I apologize for being so rude. For snapping at you. It was uncalled for.
Max s offer to give him a recommendation had come from a good place, and Tristan had turned it
ugly. But doesn t it bother you that I don t agree with everything you want?
Not at all. Actually, I m quite fond of your willingness to stand up to me. I admit, it s a trait I
usually appreciate more after the fact. No one particularly likes to be disagreed with. But, I m His
Grace to everyone else. I m just Max to you. It s one of the reasons why I love you. Looking down,
he adjusted the napkin on his lap. Do...do you still love me?
Yes. It s just...
I understand. Give me a chance, that s all I ask.
All right.
Max glanced back to him. Any enthusiasm involved?
Tristan s lips kicked up. A bit.
* * *
Tristan bounded up the stairs, turned the knob and pushed open the door to his rooms. The delicious
scent of pork cutlets caused his stomach to rumble. He shut the door behind him and turned the lock.
Have I told you yet that I adore your cook?
Yes. A few times. Standing from the couch, Max chuckled. He folded the newspaper he d been
reading in half and dropped it onto the cushion. Welcome home. How was the shop today?
After finding Max waiting outside his building a week ago, Tristan had given him a key. No reason
for the man to linger. And having Max there, waiting for him, was a definite improvement over
coming home to empty rooms. Good, though challenging. I learned how to construct a coat. Be
certain to thank your tailor the next time he makes one for you. Getting a sleeve to hang properly is
not an easy task, and the lining on a coat is much more difficult to get right than a waistcoat. He
crossed to Max and held out a note. This is for you. From Mr. Morgan.
Without glancing at the contents, Max tucked the note into his pocket. Morgan saw to an errand for
me, he said by way of explanation.
Tristan couldn t help but be curious about the nature of that errand. Morgan hadn t alluded to it
either when he d given the note to Tristan to give to Max. Then again, Morgan wasn t a talkative sort.
Not that he needed to be in his capacity as Tristan s bodyguard. A silent and large yet alert
companion. Tristan was certain nothing escaped Morgan s notice. He wasn t about to admit it to Max,
but he found Morgan a comforting presence on their walks to and from Mr. Foster s, especially the
from portion, which took place after the sun had set. He s quite a useful fellow.
Very much so. I consider him invaluable. I would pay him triple his wages if he d allow it, but he
won t.
Tristan shrugged out of his greatcoat and draped it over the back of the armchair, over Max s
greatcoat. How was your day?
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