by Clare London
“The furniture’s not built for comfort, is it?” the attractive stranger said, his smile reassuring. He’d shifted sideways to give Matt enough room to get settled, and now they were sitting side by side. “I got stabbed in the bum by the metal buttons.”
Matt laughed, pushing his hair back off his forehead. It never stayed in its parting for long, and he always forgot he could use gel. His beard probably needed a trim too. He felt like some kind of swarthy pirate against the smooth skin of this guy’s jaw. Matt wondered if a beard would grow in the same blond color as the man’s perfectly styled hair, or if there’d be a touch of ginger in there. Such lovely, sharp, glittering eyes, concentrated so confidently on Matt. And those high cheekbones; the smooth-shaven, chiseled jaw? The man was bloody gorgeous.
Matt’s reaction struggled between a flare of lustful attraction and embarrassment. He probably shouldn’t have taken off his jacket. He hadn’t ironed his shirt very well. Thank God his awkward wriggling to get settled hadn’t spilled either drink.
“I’m Matt,” he said, holding out his hand. The other man shook it—his hand was cool but firm. Matt wasn’t surprised by the flicker of excitement that ran down his spine.
“Joe,” the man said quietly—at least, that’s what Matt thought he said. The couple in the booth behind them had burst into raucous laughter just as Joe spoke. Joe winced, caught Matt’s eye, and smiled ruefully.
“Let’s leave it at that, shall we? First names only,” Matt said quickly. “I bet we’ve both had enough of this evening, introducing ourselves time after time by full name, rank, and serial number.”
Joe raised his eyebrows, but he nodded. “Yes, you’re right. It’s tiring. So, you’re here for the jewelry event?”
Matt wondered what Joe thought he was here for otherwise. He was hardly dressed well enough for Claridge’s usual clientele, but of course he’d spent most of the evening propping up this small, out-of-the-way bar, rather than mingling with the industry types. “Yeah. Luckily it’s almost over now. My duty’s done, and the last train goes at eleven.” He signaled to the bartender, who was poring surreptitiously over a cocktail book under the counter—Matt had caught him studying it several times already—and ordered another couple of beers. Joe nodded agreement. He’d already drunk most of his first one. Maybe he’d had enough of that too-dry champagne in the ballroom.
They didn’t speak until the beer had been brought over to their table. Matt was suddenly very aware of Joe, only a foot away, his beautifully suited body relaxing gracefully on the awkward seat, a slight smile on his full lips, his forehead smooth under expensively cut hair, his nose straight—probably never broken from amateur rugby games—and his hands slim-fingered, not pitted with soil under the nails that Matt didn’t think he’d ever get out, however much he scrubbed.
But Joe had invited Matt to join him, had accepted a drink. He’d even made a joke to put Matt at his ease. He couldn’t be that much of a tosser, could he? Matt felt startlingly warm inside. He had no interest in cocktails, but… he’d definitely like to have another beer with this ridiculously gorgeous man.
It didn’t feel quite real, because Matt had never pulled a guy like this in his life. In fact, he’d never really given his love life enough time or effort for any proper relationship. There had always been other priorities. Family, his design apprenticeship, the business—no, he wasn’t going there again tonight. He sat back in the booth, determined to enjoy a surprising and very pleasant end to the evening in Joe’s company. As he reached again for his beer, he nudged Joe’s hand, and turning to apologize, he realized Joe had been looking him up and down. The man had the grace to blush at being caught out. It was heartwarming to see a touch of vulnerability in such a smart, confident man.
Matt nodded back toward the ballroom. “Were you escaping from the farce in there too?”
“Escaping?”
“When you took your phone call. You dodged in here like you were fleeing a pack of rabid beasts.”
Joe frowned. “Yes, well. It was a confidential call.”
Ouch. Matt knew he was blushing. “Me and my nosiness. I guess you’ll want me to vacate my seat right about now?”
But Joe laughed softly. “No. You couldn’t have known. I’d tell you about it… if I could.” And his smile broadened.
My God, what a smile! It lit up Joe’s whole face, made him look younger, less serious. Matt’s warmth just increased. He felt dizzy, and he didn’t think it was from the beer. He wanted to keep that smile going as long as he could look at it.
“Well, it’s good to meet a guy who hasn’t either looked down his nose at my suit or tried to sell me stuff I don’t need,” he said.
“You got harassed by salesmen too?”
Matt wasn’t going to be led by that, so he just laughed, and Joel joined in with him. They took sips from their beers, the condensation on the glasses glinting with reflections from the low lamps set over the booth. The music in the background switched to a soft jazz track that Matt half recognized. This was all surprisingly cozy.
Joe shifted in his seat, coming closer as he settled to face Matt properly. “Do I gather you don’t like corporate events?”
“Fuck, no. Damn. I’m sorry. Again.” Yeah, way to look sophisticated with froth on his top lip and the inability to make a coherent sentence. “I’m only here as a last-minute necessity. To be honest, I’m sorry I came at all. It hasn’t been of any use.”
Joe tilted his head, quizzically. “May I ask why?”
“You don’t want to know,” Matt said bluntly. “Basically, this isn’t my kind of thing, but I’ve been out of the industry for so long I’d forgotten exactly why. The reason I don’t come to these events is because I don’t have any time for people like this.” The words were barely out before he realized how rude that was. “Bugger. Me and my big mouth too. No offense meant.”
“None taken,” Joe said quietly.
Matt rushed on, suddenly eager to explain himself, though he usually didn’t bother. “Socials like this, they’re nothing to do with the real business, are they?”
“The real business?”
“Working with the source. With precious metals. Gems. Jewelry.”
Joe’s eyes narrowed. Maybe he was wondering whether Matt was anything to do with the Guild at all, after being so dismissive. Whereas it was blatantly obvious Joe was in the business—his eyes lit up at the first mention of gems and his whole body seemed to straighten. He had to be one of the salesmen here, touting for deals. Matt would try not to hold it against him.
“That’s what matters to you?” Joe said.
“Too bloody right. Doesn’t it you? I went into this industry originally because I love beauty. Finding it, creating it, drawing the best from it. And that’s all I’m interested in, not this pathetic pursuit of finger food and financial returns.” He gave a small laugh of embarrassment. He probably shouldn’t be talking like this, not here, tonight. “Listen to me! That’s the drink talking.”
Joe took a moment to reply. It looked as if he’d been watching Matt’s mouth very closely, but maybe Matt had imagined that.
“Please.” Joel looked intrigued. “Tell me more. You say you love it… but you’re out of the industry now?”
Matt sat back with a sigh. “Yeah. Sort of. I’m a jewelry designer. Was. I’m not actually designing at the moment, at least not professionally. I dropped out of this particular rat race some time ago.”
“Is that because of the pathetic pursuit you mentioned?”
Jesus. Joe had every right to challenge Matt. But when he met Joe’s eyes, he saw sympathy and interest there, not mockery. “Partly. I created a collection that was… well, I expect you’d say it was successful.” It had been critically well received, which Matt had been very proud of. It was only when it came time to sell it to traders and retailers… well, he’d realized quite how bad he was at that. He resented being on show, of having to think of the money, of the marketing, of making his work commercial
.
Joe was looking keenly at him. “It’s painful for you, to think about it.”
It was. And it had caused problems with Matt’s family—with his job—and had been more or less the final straw for Matt’s involvement in this business. But that wasn’t Joe’s fault. He wouldn’t find that at all interesting. “I don’t want to dwell on that tonight, okay? To be honest, I miss the work. I love seeing metals looped and bent into fabulous shapes, precious items created with polish and shine and crowned with jewels. It’s like a recipe—I weave it all into the design. But it’s not just about the bling, about making things expensive for the sake of it. Not just pandering to the market. You know what I mean?”
“Yes. I do.”
“Yeah?” Matt held Joe’s gaze for a little longer than was polite. The guy actually did look like he understood. What a hell of a relief that was! Matt had felt outside of the crowd for a very long time.
“But…,” Joe began slowly, as if nervous of how Matt would take things, though Matt couldn’t imagine anyone ever daring to stop Joe asserting his confident opinion. “The commerce matters too. The Guild has international reach and representation. A good collection deserves to be shared.”
Matt shrugged. He’d had plenty of time to think about things since he dropped out. Plenty of times to acknowledge compromises had to be made in all things, even if he didn’t bloody like those compromises. “At a reasonable price, yeah. I understand that. People are employed in the business, workshops have to be supported. And beauty isn’t just for a few folks to enjoy in private. But commercial gain should never be the sole objective.” He caught Joe’s rapt gaze. “You’re here for that? For the business side of things?”
“I suppose you’d say that.” Joe looked uncomfortable for the first time. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you any details because it’s confidential. But I’m celebrating something very exciting tonight.”
Matt nodded. He understood secrets too. He broke eye contact reluctantly and looked back down at his beer. “Anyway. It’s late. Even I can’t stay angry all night. The people here will say they’re just doing their job. But I think they lose their way. That’s what this kind of event reminds me of. The industry’s become all about profit when it should be….”
“About beauty?”
“Yeah.” He pushed his hair back again, and Joe’s eyes seemed to follow the movement. “Listen, that’s too much about me. What about you? You enjoy your job?”
Matt was forcing small talk—not a skill he was known for—but it seemed the right thing to say to Joe, who hadn’t hidden his enthusiasm.
“I love it. I live it.” He gave his own embarrassed laugh. “Jewels are my thing, maybe, more than metals.”
“But that’s fine. The jewels are the coup de grâce, right? The glamor that changes a foundation stone into a cathedral. A dinner plate into a banquet. The mundane into magic.” Yeah, so Matt was going over the top, but he was enjoying this totally unexpected meeting. He was with a hot man who loved jewelry the same way he did, who seemed to be enjoying the conversation, if his thoughtful expression and sparkling eyes were anything to go by. “It’s all about… well, the majesty of them. Like they’re royalty in themselves.”
“Royalty?” Joe suddenly stilled and his pupils dilated. “Yes, you’re right.”
Matt had no idea why Joe’s tone had tightened—had Matt said something out of turn?—but he was on a roll now. “I love the fact that jewelry still captures hearts and minds, whatever the age. I’ve followed the history of design, studying the attitudes toward treasure through time. We’re as drawn to beautiful designs, beautiful styling, as we were in, say, the Bronze Age. We covet jewelry, always have, but not always to own.”
“That’s not always been an option for people who couldn’t afford it.” Joe was nodding now, leaning in closer. “But there’s still been admiration, is that what you mean? The desire to be amazed and enthralled by such precious things.”
“God, yes, you’re right. That’s it, exactly.” Matt hadn’t felt uplifted like this for a long time. Joe’s eyes shone, and his smile was blinding. He was so gorgeous. And now he’d reached over and grasped Matt’s arm.
“The way you describe it… it’s been a while since I thought like that. Since I looked at the heart of things. But I love that too.”
Matt grinned mischievously. “Like I said. Magic, that’s what jewelry is. Or what it can be. Whatever the era, whatever the society. The metals, the gems, they’re ageless. And if the very best designs can tap into that immortal stream of desire, can be truly ageless—”
“Then that’s the real treasure!”
They stared at each other with wide smiles and the same level of exhilaration. Matt felt suddenly breathless. He hadn’t been interested in dating for a long time, but now… there was something about Joe. He was so different from Matt—smooth to Matt’s brusqueness, well-dressed to Matt’s barely a step above casual. And such a perfect fit at this business event that the contrast should have made Matt feel uncomfortable and antagonistic. But when they laughed together, when they spoke about jewels, when they felt so similarly about the intrinsic beauty of their trade….
Joe shrugged off his suit jacket, and Matt watched his muscles tighten across broad, wiry shoulders. Matt’s gaze dropped to Joe’s mouth at just about the same time Joe’s tongue slipped out and wet his lips.
“You know how good you look, right?” Matt said hoarsely.
“You’re… I don’t know what to say about you.” Joe seemed strangely disconcerted, his gaze searching Matt’s face. “You’re unusual. I like that. You’re something special.”
Matt’s chuckle came out as a low, humming sound. The kiss just seemed to happen. Matt couldn’t have said which one of them initiated it. They leaned gently and easily against each other, and their lips met. There wasn’t even any of that stupid first-time clumsiness and nose bump. Matt slid a hand around the back of Joe’s neck, and Joe clutched at the front of Matt’s shirt. The sides of the booth were high, and the bartender had shuffled away to the other end of the counter. The laughing couple had left some time ago. No one could see them. From the way Joe gripped him and the way his tongue pushed firmly into Matt’s mouth, Matt didn’t think either of them would have cared anyway.
Matt hadn’t kissed many men in his limited dating life, and he didn’t think he was that bothered about the whole thing. But this was something else. Joe was something else. They parted slowly, their lips still touching until the last second.
Joe’s eyes were heavy-lidded, his mouth glistening. Matt could see a bead of sweat had sprung up in the hollow of his throat. Dammit, he imagined he looked just as affected.
He ran a finger along Joe’s cheekbone and sighed. “Wow. That was unexpected.”
“But good?”
Amazing. Joe looked completely bemused by the whole thing, as if Matt had bashed him with an iron pipe rather than tried to kiss his way down to his tonsils. “Yes,” Matt said, grinning. “Very good.”
Joe laughed softly. He seemed reluctant to let go of Matt, but reached his free hand to his hair. It didn’t need fixing at all; it was as smoothly styled as before. But Matt was oddly touched by the nervous gesture.
And then Matt’s mobile buzzed in his jacket. He groped for the pocket, pulled out the old model that he used for nothing more than making calls. The screen said, “Gary.” Gary, his cousin, who rarely knew where his own phone was, let alone called Matt up late at night for a cousinly chat.
A cold shiver ran down Matt’s back.
“I have to take this call.” He struggled his way out of the booth and moved to the other end of the bar. He didn’t know why he was keen to keep this private, but something told him it was important. “Gary? What’s up?”
“Matt? It’s your dad. He’s in hospital.”
Matt could hear sounds in the background, unfamiliar voices, a faint beeping noise, the rattle of trolleys along a linoleum corridor. Sounded like Gary was in the hospital hims
elf. Matt felt nauseous. “Was it an accident?”
“Nah. He just got dizzy and fell at home. Personally, I think it was a panic attack. But they’ve taken him in for tests, in case it was a stroke. I thought you ought to know.”
“A—what?”
“Matt, keep calm. He’s okay. He’s conscious and sharp as ever. In fact, he said I shouldn’t call you, you’re at that business thing—”
“I’m leaving now. I’ll get a cab.”
“Jesus, from central London? The cost—”
“Fuck that,” Matt said in a low, vicious tone and hung up.
His heart was thudding like a mad drummer was trapped in his chest, and his mouth was dry. He looked over to where Joe stood just outside the booth. On the table were two half-empty glasses of beer and a small white square. Matt suspected that was Joe’s business card. He was probably going to ask Matt to call him. They could go out for a drink, somewhere less intimidating, less cripplingly formal than a Claridge’s industry dinner. Have fun. Have more of those spectacular kisses.
Joe had a quizzical, concerned expression. He’d probably be able to guess it was serious. Matt knew his face was an open book at the best of times. Joe took a step toward him, with a hand outstretched as if to offer help.
“I gotta go. I gotta go.” Matt didn’t know if Joe could hear him from the distance between them. He couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t think about a tall, handsome, well-groomed young man who’d shared a couple of drinks with him and might even have wanted to take things further.
Instead he turned abruptly and hurried out of the bar and onto London’s still-busy streets.
Chapter Three
