The picture on the company website had shown him a man of perhaps forty, with sandy hair and a strong, firm face, hard jaw and eyes set below a noble rise of forehead.
Ethan had not really taken much notice. Not that it wasn't a notable face; just that he was looking for the company details, not the boss. And Ethan was not feeling kindly towards humans in general just then. Or shifters either, he reflected, wry. Let's not forget them. I might be one, well and good. But so is Alex. Bastard.
He lifted weights for most of the evening, the strain and immediacy giving his mind the release it needed; letting him work out his hurt and fury. By the time he was in the shower, the steam surrounding him and screening him from the world's cares, he felt quite relaxed.
***
In a white office with an elegant chrome-legged desk, High Morris, CEO of Performance Consulting sat contemplating the day's work.
Interview at ten o' clock, board meeting at three. Not bad.
He sighed, and leaned back in his chair, looking across at the modern painting opposite.
This shouldn't take too long, he mused, looking over the file of notes on the desk. Ethan Howard, thirty, business consultant for five years. Operated internationally. Fine references. This should be a sure thing. The two other candidates seemed less promising than this.
Hugh looked around the room at the people who sat with him, waiting for the candidates to enter. He looked back briefly over his notes, shuffling the order back to how it should be. Ethan's resume was on the top.
Ethan Howard. Something about the young man in the picture intrigued him. Something about the eyes; a haunting, mesmeric stare. He felt a slight twinge of desire as he looked closer, and shook his head.
Stop it, Hugh! He admonished himself. Two minutes to ten, he reflected, looking down to consult his watch.
The door swung open, and someone appeared on the threshold.
Hugh blinked.
“Good morning.”
Hugh paused. His usual composure had completely left him. He swallowed.
“Good morning,” he replied suddenly, remembering where he was and what he was doing, “these are my associates, Mrs. Carla Houghton and Mr. Jonah Greenaway. I am Hugh Morris, CEO of Performance Consulting.”
The hand that gripped his was warm and dry. Hugh swallowed again, his throat aching.
“Good morning. Ethan Howard.”
He inclined his head as he returned the handshake; sat down in the chair opposite when Hugh indicated. Then Hugh sat down, feeling a little dazed.
Opposite him sat what was the most achingly beautiful being he had witnessed: tall and solid, with a mass of close curls and what were surely the most stunning eyes ever seen.
“Okay,” he managed, sounding desperately cheerful and hating it, “let's start with the basics. Your CV states that you spent some time working in the legal sector before becoming a consultant?”
“Yes. I studied law first, and spent a few years looking around before breaking into consulting...”
The questions and answers continued, much as they would for any interview, except for the fact that Hugh was half-absent, the rest of his mind trying desperately to find calm.
I have never seen anyone this stunning.
Opposite him, Ethan could feel the usual nerves, and the usual flow of the interview. He could also feel something completely unusual: sensory overload.
The moment he crossed the threshold, his eyes fastened on Hugh, and he could not look away. Now, he could feel sweat on his fingertips that had nothing to do with the questions and their answers. He could feel warmth in his stomach and a drumming in his heart that had nothing to do with the undeniable stress of an interview.
That man is stunning.
He could not take his eyes off Hugh; off the fine profile, the mobile mouth with its slight tilt, the crooked but elegant nose—a commanding face, certainly, but one with a ready humour and kindness. A lovely face.
This is a job interview, he told himself. You really shouldn't be thinking that.
He could not help it.
“And...your earliest start date is the first of November?” Hugh's voice sounded hoarse.
“Yes.”
The fact that the first of November was in two days' time did not escape either of them, but neither mentioned it.
“Well...I think we have nothing more to ask. Unless my colleagues want to add something?” Hugh asked, then continued, “thank you for an...interesting interview. We will call you as soon as we’ve decided on the outcome.”
“Thank you.” Ethan swallowed. His mouth was dry. Then he stood, shook the hand proffered to him and left the interview room.
That was the weirdest interview ever, Ethan thought. The weirdest and the most wonderful. I had forgotten I was capable of feeling like that. He felt his cheeks hurt, and realised that since he had crossed the threshold, he could not stop smiling.
***
Light shone through the bathroom window, etching Ethan's face with soft shadows as he stood before it. He looked at his reflection, critically.
Maybe the green tie? This one is a bit...well...too much?
He went back to the bedroom and replaced his blue tie with one of a muted grey-green, almost the colour of his eyes.
Better.
He grinned at himself in the mirror again, a little nervously, as he fetched his jacket and went downstairs.
He swallowed. His stomach had settled somewhat since before the interview, but still he felt the odd nausea sweep over him. And his nervousness wasn't helping it much—or the residual spark of attraction from the interview room.
Okay, breathe, Ethan told himself, as he sat behind the wheel of his car.
Ten minutes later, he was on the highway, driving into work.
“Good morning, Mr. Howard...yes?” A tall secretary with her hair styled severely back from her face greeted him at the reception area, eyes smiling.
“That's right.” Ethan smiled back.
“Okay. Hi. I'm Margaret Weiss. Receptionist and Assistant. We've put you in office twenty-one, upstairs...if you'll follow me? Then I can find the paperwork for you.”
Ethan followed her upstairs and down a short corridor, her heels clicking as she walked ahead of him.
It took a few minutes to find and sign all the contracts and forms, and another few for him to be given his keys and a briefing. By ten o' clock, Ethan was back at his desk, looking through the pile of portfolios, to familiarise himself with the work.
Somewhere, in the pit of his stomach, Ethan could not help thinking about Hugh. Strange, that he was somewhere in the building. Would he see him? Perhaps. He swallowed.
Get a grip, you, he told himself sternly. Then he smiled. I haven't felt this way in years.
What if he's also a shifter? His mind asked him. It seemed too much to contemplate, and so he stopped that thought before it could overwhelm him.
The day passed quite quickly, with Ethan finding that he felt really at home. He had missed the intricacies of business analysis, and was pleased to be involved in it again.
It was almost five-thirty, and Ethan was still in the office, lost in the portfolios and case studies.
He heard some footsteps in the corridor, but hardly looked up.
“Ethan?”
Ethan looked up at once. That voice! It tingled down his spine and ignited his senses.
“Mr. Morris?”
Hugh stood in the doorway, looking strangely at a loss for words.
“Yes.” he nodded. “Um...I was looking for Aubrey? Is she still here?”
Ethan swallowed.
“Um...no. I think she left half an hour ago.” He paused. “Can I give her a message?”
“Um...No. Thanks.” Hugh ran his fingertips through his hair, distracted.
Neither of them moved. Their eyes met. Ethan caught his breath when he saw his own longing reflected there.
“So...how was your first day?” Hugh asked.
“Oh...fine.”
Ethan shifted awkwardly in his seat. Looked down and then up again. “It's nice so far.”
“Good.” Hugh nodded.
Another silence. Their eyes met again, and held.
“You’ve found a nice place to live then?”
“Yes.” Ethan nodded, mouth dry.
“Good. Not too far to drive each day, I hope.”
“No. Quite close. And my old BMW can make it, still.”
“A BMW? Which model?” Hugh asked, interestedly.
“A three-series. Gran Turismo”
“Good. They're good cars.” Hugh nodded, approvingly. “Most popular model, and all, you know.”
“I know.” Ethan nodded.
“You like cars?”
“Yeah.”
“Me too.” Hugh looked down, then looked up. “You know about the Highgate Motor Show?”
“It's this weekend, I think.” Ethan nodded.
“Yes. Would you like to come?” Hugh asked. He looked away.
Ethan swallowed. “Yes,” then, “I'd like that a lot.”
“Good!” Hugh's eyes found his again. Ethan felt the gaze tingling down his spine.
They looked at each other for a while.
“I'm...I have some papers to read through.” Hugh's fingers ran through his hair distractedly again. He sounded reluctant about it.
“Uh...sure.” Ethan nodded.
“Then...I'll see you on Saturday?”
“Yes.” Ethan nodded.
“Eleven or eleven-thirty?”
“Um...yeah. I mean, eleven sounds good.”
“Good.”
They stared a moment longer, and then Hugh walked back up the corridor, briskly.
Ethan stared after him a moment, and then shook his head. A smile of pure wonder played across his lips.
Saturday. Hugh.
He grinned again.
It was six-thirty by the time he had pulled his concentration together and finished the last work of the day. When he walked out of the office, he was grinning.
***
The square at Highgate, a new park on the outskirts of town, was packed with people, the morning sunshine blazing down on balloons, streamers, a cheerful chaos of people. And cars. The light gleamed off hoods polished to mirrors of gold, white, red, blue...all the colours modern paint could make. Voices filled the air, and, somewhere, a radio station had set up speakers, so popular music floated over the crowd, adding its own cheerfulness to the scene.
Ethan stood on the edge of the crowd and blinked in the morning sun. He had dressed carefully in a casual shirt in washed grey and charcoal jeans.
“Ethan. Hi.” Hugh walked across the crowded park towards him, hand outstretched.
“Hi.” Ethan shook his hand.
He's even more stylish outside the office, he thought, studying his boss from the corner of his eye. He could feel his palms begin to sweat.
“Have you looked around much yet?' Hugh smiled.
“I just arrived.” Ethan smiled back.
“Good. So did I. Let's see what there is to see.”
They spent an hour looking at the cars on display. Hugh proved at least as knowledgeable as Ethan, and they had fun exhausting the cars' owners with pointed questions.
“I'm getting pretty hungry.” Hugh confessed after another ten minutes of looking. “Would you like some lunch?”
“Yeah.” Ethan nodded, vigorously. “That would be great.”
They made their way across the street to a modern-looking bistro, painted out in wheat and olive-green, with elegant chrome-legged tables.
“I always come here if I go to the park.” Hugh grinned. “They do the best salmon bagels this side of the globe, I reckon.”
Ethan smiled. “I like salmon, too.”
“Good.” Hugh's smile was open. “We seem to have a lot in common.”
Ethan swallowed. “It seems like it.”
They were both silent for a while.
“So...you're alone here?” Hugh asked, a hint of cautiousness creeping into his tone.
“Uh...yes.” Ethan blinked. “I am.” Anything else would be too complicated to explain.
“Me too.” Hugh nodded.
“You are?” Ethan said it, surprised. “I mean...” He had not actually imagined that such a desirable man would be single.
Hugh grinned at him. “Yes.”
They sat for a moment, lost in each other's smiles. Under the table, Hugh's knee moved against Ethan's thigh. Ethan sucked a breath in deep into his lungs. It felt so good, so right.
The waitress had appeared, and had her notebook ready to take note of what they wanted to drink.
Hugh and Ethan blinked, coming back to the present moment suddenly.
“Uh...yes. The house lemonade, please.”
“Two lemonades.” Ethan smiled.
“Good.” The waitress nodded and left.
After she had gone, they sat in silence a moment.
“So...you have plans for the rest of today?” Hugh asked, cautiously. His voice was not entirely steady.
“Um...no...” Ethan noticed that his voice was equally-unsteady.
“Good.” Hugh nodded. “I mean...if you want to look around town...?”
“Yes.” Ethan swallowed. “I'd like that.”
“Have you seen the river? It looks amazing this time of year. Especially in the evening.”
“No...I haven't.” Ethan admitted. “But it sounds good.”
“It is.” Hugh nodded firmly. “There's a good place for supper, right at the water's edge. The Heron.” He nodded. “We could have dinner?”
Ethan gulped. “That sounds great.”
“Good.” Hugh smiled.
They spent the next hour over lunch, talking about cars, work and life. Hugh, it transpired, was eight years older than Ethan, and had worked as a consultant all his life. Ethan told him most of his history, leaving out the part about Alex and their involvement, and his pregnancy. What would he think of that? Ethan did not want to risk telling him.
“So.” Hugh finished a sentence, wiping his lips with the napkin, elegantly. “I've got some things to pick up from the office, some chores to do...how about meeting at the river at seven-thirty?”
“Seven-thirty. Great.” Ethan nodded.
“See you then.”
Their eyes met, sending shivers down Ethan's spine.
***
The Heron, at seven-thirty was packed with people, well-dressed and elegant, the air filled with light conversation, the clink of glasses, and the scent of perfume and fine foods.
At the back of the restaurant, his back to the wall, Hugh sat, surveying the scene.
I can't quite believe I'm here.
After the loss of his partner, two or three years ago, Hugh had not believed he would feel like this about anyone.
He looked down at his watch, feeling himself becoming restless. Seven twenty-nine. Come on, Hugh. He shook his head. Only a minute. And you can't expect him to be on time— it's dinner, not a conference-call.
He grinned. I haven't been out with someone who stirs me so much. Not for far too long. I'm not surprised I've forgotten my manners. Three or four minutes later, he looked up, and Ethan was making his way in across the room.
“Hi.” Ethan grinned at him, and shook his hand.
“Hi.” Hugh smiled back, the sparks of their hands' meeting running up his arm and to his lungs, making him draw breath, sharply.
Supper passed quickly, a delicious meal and delightful company. They spent half the evening laughing, and the rest deep in talk. It did not seem possible that two people could have so much in common.
After dinner, they both stood. Ethan shrugged into his jacket, feeling how his heart pounded. They crossed the restaurant together, and Ethan felt as if he did not touch ground.
In the carpark, Hugh turned to face him.
“My car?”
Ethan nodded. “Yours is faster.”
Hugh laughed, a delicious sound. “I guess.” Hugh'
s was an Audi A5 sports car.
Sitting inside, neither of them moved for a moment. Then Hugh leaned over, tentatively, and his lips grazed Ethan's. Gently, his tongue traced the line of Ethan's mouth, in sensual exploration. Ethan leaned back, eyes closed; gave up and let the fireworks trace their way down his spine, making his body want to explode. He leaned in and his lips parted, returning the kiss. After a minute, they sat apart, breathless.
“Shall we see how fast it is?” Hugh chuckled. He sounded out of breath and nervous.
“Yes.” Ethan whispered.
Hugh turned the key and soon they were heading out of the carpark and back along the dark, bright-lit streets. If they exceeded the speed limit, neither of them commented. Hugh's fingers traced Ethan's thigh, and Ethan's hand clasped them, a sweat-slick grip.
Hugh's house, a small, elegant building with vintage white plaster and fencing around an elegant green space of garden, stood on the edge of town. Inside, they paused to switch on the lights. Then all stillness and hesitancy were lost.
Hugh's hands found Ethan's shoulder, clasping him to his body as he kissed him, hard and urgent. His fingers traced down Ethan's shoulders and to his waist, their bodies firm. Ethan could feel the bulge at Hugh's groin, which betrayed his arousal.
“Upstairs?” The voice was very soft.
“Yes.”
They walked through the darkened room and up the stairs, Hugh's hand on Ethan's shoulder as he ascended to the upstairs landing. Hugh guided him gently to the door on the left, and then embraced him again, drawing his body close to him.
Ethan found he could hardly breathe.
Hugh found the collar of his jacket, easing it down off Ethan's shoulders. His lips found the cleft between his collarbones and kissed it. Ethan felt his breath choke in his throat. Hugh was unfastening his shirt, his fingers tracing down to his waist, leaving road maps of fire that traced all the way down to his loins, setting them alight.
Hugh slid his shirt down over his shoulders. Then moved to his belt.
“Let me.” Ethan found his voice.
Hugh lay back on the bed and let him ease his own trousers down, watching the fine muscles of his body contract and ripple as he did so. Then Ethan was naked, his body pale in the muted light of the bedroom.
“Lie down…” Hugh's voice was caught in his throat, as if he had drunk nothing and his throat were parched dry.
Celestial Seductions: The Complete Series: An MM Gay Paranormal Mpreg Romance Collection Page 21
