Golden Dancer

by Tara Lain

  “I thought about it.”

  A crease appeared between Daniel’s eyebrows, which pleased Mac more than he wanted to admit.

  Mac smiled. “Actually, I couldn’t imagine being with someone else. The thought kind of made me sick. I just want to be with Trelain…and you.”

  The blue-black eyes bored into him. “Are you sure, Mac? I totally understand if you only want to be with Trelain. He’s an easy man to love. Of course, I’m not saying I’d step aside for you to have free access, but I would at least understand.”

  Mac just stared for a minute. What was the truth? A subject he seemed to be having some trouble with these days. “No. I want you too. I didn’t know how much until today. I guess I told myself that I wanted Trelain, and to have him, you were…part of the package. But now I see it’s much more than that. I don’t understand completely, but I don’t want you to go away. Even if I could have Trelain without you, I…don’t think I would want that.”

  Daniel chuckled. “Not exactly a ringing endorsement.” Mac started to speak, and the man held up a finger. “But I get it. You chose Trelain. I was thrust upon you. You saw me first as a rival, a thief of your man.” Mac cringed at the choice of words, but Daniel continued. “I’m happy you wanted to be with me today and that you even think that you might like to have it continue.” He moved in closer and licked the side of Mac’s neck, sending sparks straight to that big cock Mac thought would never move again. “And I hope to make it worth your while to keep me around.”

  Suddenly, Mac was consumed by raging heat. He grabbed Daniel by the hair, which produced a sexy moan, and slammed his mouth down over those carved lips. Who knew he could get it up twice in one afternoon? But hell, he had a lot of lost time to make up for. And was he sleeping with the enemy? At the moment, he just didn’t give a shit.

  Chapter Eighteen

  He felt like jack shit. Daniel had called Mac that morning and asked him to come over to the beach house, saying he had a surprise. They had spent that fateful night two days ago at Mac’s, but yesterday had moved their marathon lovemaking over to the big beach house.

  Marathon it was. Hell, Mac felt like a horny teenager, desperate to stick his cock in an available orifice, but in his case, only one orifice would do. Or two, really, but only one was available—Daniel’s ass. Mac seemed to be able to get it up again and again, and Terrebone never tired of taking everything his lover had to give. Yeah, and that would include his artifice, dissembling, and outright lies. No matter which way you looked at it, he was screwing Daniel Terrebone.

  Last night, Mac had gone home. A story needed filing, and he really had to check in on what data had come in from Von Berg. He was ashamed to admit he’d been relieved when his private e-mail account had shown no new messages from the German. Then Daniel had called early this morning.

  When Mac arrived at the estate, the butler had said Mr. Terrebone was on the phone and had taken Mac directly to a bright, airy room at the opposite end of the hall that looked out on the ocean. In what had perhaps been a guestroom, Daniel had set up a desk with a shiny new computer, printer, scanner, copier—all the very latest technology. In fact, some of it probably wasn’t even released yet. Yeah, Mac figured you can do that when you own the company. The butler, whom Mac had come to know as Carlos, told him the room was his office to use as he wished. He should make himself at home. And Mr. Terrebone had said if Mac preferred any of the art from other rooms, he had only to express his preference. Hmm, did that include the Golden Dancer?

  Jesus. The guy boggled his mind. Someone else could think it was the careless gesture of a very rich man. Mac looked at the comfortable striped chairs, the big desk, and the storage cabinets. He grinned at Carlos. “He picked all this out, didn’t he?”

  The man smiled slightly as if he appreciated that Mac got this. “Yes, sir.” He’d given Mac a little nod as he left him in his new digs.

  So here he was sitting in one of his new striped chairs. First instinct? Panic. Having sex with Daniel was one thing; being beholden to him was something else. And he was damned confused. Why would Daniel do something like this for him? True, he didn’t know much about relationships. Is this what people did? His dad was pretty generous. But he and Daniel were guys, for crap’s sake. And they barely knew each other.

  Truth? Daniel was generous with his money, his time, and even his affection. The declaration he’d made to Mac when he came to the cottage had taken guts and a willingness to be honest, no matter what the consequences. It was a lesson Mac, who said he valued truth and honesty above everything, hadn’t begun to learn. He wished he could leave the house and escape, but then he’d lose Trelain, and…yeah, he’d lose Daniel, and the thought made him short of breath. He had to find a way to say thank you for a gesture he didn’t really understand. He looked around. Damned great room, though.

  Walking down the hall, he passed by the entry and into the other wing beyond. As he got toward the end of the space, he heard the rumble of Daniel’s silky baritone coming from the office. Yeah, that was the place he’d give an arm to spend a couple hours alone in. He figured if the door was open, there must be nothing secret—or exciting—going on. As he got closer, he heard a heavy German accent, and it stopped him. Should he listen? Shit, he was a reporter; of course he should listen. He looked over his shoulder, but didn’t see Carlos or any of the staff. Standing a few steps down the hall from the office door, he clearly heard the thick voice.

  “I very much resent not having received this payment, and I will work for you again when pigs fly!”

  Mac had to force himself not to laugh. “Pigs fly” in that accent. It ought to be in a book.

  Daniel’s soft voice replied. “You know my terms, Stefan. There’s no need for us to speak further until I’ve received it. Take care, my friend. Do not forget, I am a very good client.” Silence. Apparently, he’d hung up.

  Shit, it was the hacker. It had to be. Stefan Saltz, SS. And Daniel had described himself as a client. Mac leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Daniel could have hired SS for something else. But how likely was that? Jesus. This was practically proof. Practically the story he had waited for forever. His breath came in short gasps. But just practically. Not for sure.

  The silence stretched. He had to do something. He took a deep breath. He was grateful. No matter if the man was a thief, Mac was grateful for his gift and…everything. Mac backed up down the hall quietly and then called, “Daniel. Are you here?”

  “Here, Mac.”

  He took the few steps back to the office and pushed open the door that stood ajar. Inside, Daniel sat behind his glass desk. He was so handsome; Mac didn’t have any trouble smiling. “Thank you so much.”

  Daniel patted his lap. “Why don’t you come here and tell me that.”

  This would be embarrassing. Mac crossed the space and tentatively perched on Daniel’s lap. The bigger man grabbed him and pulled him back so he was leaning against Daniel’s arm and both his feet left the floor. Mac laughed. “Okay, this is a page in the Daniel and Mac cartoon book.”

  Daniel nuzzled his neck. “Did you have something to tell me?”

  “Thank you so much.”

  Daniel laughed. “Oh, has something made you happy, Mac?”

  Mac stopped and looked at those deep eyes. “Thank you. I know how much thought and attention you put into that lovely room. It’s everything I would have chosen…if I had more money and taste.” He grinned. “Thank you so much. How the hell did you do it so fast?”

  “Actually, I started thinking about the room back on our weekend with Trelain. I’m creating a room for him as well, with practice space, a reading corner, and lots more. There are things I want to add to your room now that I know you a little better.”

  “It’s a great surprise.” Yeah, one he couldn’t repay and didn’t deserve. He started to get up, so as not to cut off the circulation in Daniel’s legs.

  The bigger man grabbed him back
, seeming to like their silly posture. “Actually, it’s only part of the surprise.”

  Mac snuggled Daniel’s neck a little, thinking they must look like nuzzling water buffalo. “What could be better? Unless you’re going to outfit my room with sex toys.”

  Daniel kissed his nose. “That can be arranged. But as for better, how about a trip this weekend to see Trelain?”

  His heart stopped, then sped up. “Really, in New York?”

  “Yep, we’ll put the corporate jet to good use. He called to say he missed us so much. Shall we surprise him?”

  “What if he’s not there?”

  Daniel smiled. “I have a few resources. I’ll see if we can’t find someone to insist he stay in rehearsal for some made-up adventure, and we’ll pop in and surprise him. Would you like that?”

  Oh, shit. “Yes, yes, I would.”

  “How about we leave this afternoon. Can you get away?”

  “Yes. Definitely.” To see Trelain, he’d leave anything behind. Whoa. Had he just thought that? Really? What was happening to him? He didn’t forsake a story for a social experience, even a romantic one. But at least he wouldn’t be leaving anything behind this time, because he’d be with Daniel, and if there was a story, Daniel was it. Though at this moment, Mac had to admit he hoped the story would just disappear.

  * * *

  Chassé, chassé, fouettés en tournant, plié, jeté, jeté, grand jeté. “Bloody hell!”

  Trelain stopped, sweating and almost bloody winded which, considering his conditioning, was practically impossible. He panted in the middle of the rehearsal hall, which was empty but for himself and Andre, the bloody, fucking, slave-driving ballet master. He tried to control his voice. “Andre, tell me again why it is essential that I practice until I am sweating fucking blood on a Saturday when I have only two bloody performances of this bloody ballet left before the bloody season is over and I start rehearsing another bloody ballet?”

  Andre gave him an indulgent smile and glanced at his watch, which caused Trelain to consider beating him over the head with the ballet barre that he was about to rip from the wall. “Indulge me just a tiny bit more, darling.” He glanced at his watch again. When had the man become such a clock-watcher?

  “Very well, but only because I love you, you old queen. What precisely would you like me to perfect to within an inch of its bloody life now?”

  He waved a graceful hand. “Same sequence, darling.” Trelain noticed the man glance up and smile. What had gotten into him today?

  Trelain executed a series of sidesteps, rose on one foot and pirouetted a number of times, fell down into a deep plié, and rose into a string of small leaps. That culminated in a grand jeté. As he propelled himself into the leap, silver hair flashed in his gaze. Daniel!

  His heart stopped and body nearly followed. But he was in the air. Fucking hell, he could fall. As he lost control and headed for the floor, he prepared to accept the impact and—wham, he was grabbed and clutched to a powerful chest. Daniel had caught him, but hell, the tall body staggered backward under the blow with both of them starting to fall. Two more powerful arms captured the big body holding Trelain, and pushed them both up. Mac. Oh, bloody hell.

  Trelain stared into that beautiful chiseled face, flushed with his efforts. “You bloody idiot, you could have killed us both. I know how to fall far better than you do.” He grabbed that shaggy head and pulled him in for a wild kiss. Oh, Daniel. Darling. He couldn’t get close enough. He wanted to devour that mouth, writhing against him. No, not enough. He extended an arm, hoping something would happen. It did. Still kissing, Trelain felt his body transferred to another set of strong arms, and without a pause, he swapped mouths as well. Oh, Mac. Mac.

  Daniel closed in beside him and began to kiss his neck and ear while Mac plundered his mouth. He sure as hell hoped these blokes were planning on fucking him soon, because he was willing to lie down in the middle of the rehearsal hall.

  Being kissed on all sides, and still held tight in Mac’s arms, he heard soft chuckles behind him. He pulled away from Mac’s hungry mouth and looked over his shoulder where the dance master stood, arms crossed, laughing in delight. Trelain shot him a ferocious frown. “You planned this whole thing, didn’t you?”

  “With a lot of help from Mr. Terrebone, yes, but I had no idea what an enchanting show I would get. I suppose it makes sense that it would take two men to finally capture you.”

  Trelain smiled, but the remark hit home. Was that true? Had his checkered love life full of dalliances and one-night stands just been waiting for the right combination of strength and variety to arrest his notoriously wandering interest? He hadn’t slept with another man since he’d met Daniel—and Mac. He might have cheated on either of them with the other, but not both of them with someone else. How intriguing.

  He grinned up at Mac’s sparkling chocolate eyes. The man seemed truly happy to see him. And he felt the same. Oh yes, the very same. “Maybe we’ve entertained Monsieur Andre sufficiently for one day, what do you say, gentlemen?”

  “Oh, do not stop anything on my account.” The gray-haired man giggled. “I like to watch.”

  Daniel extricated himself from their three-way wrap and crossed to the ballet master, hand extended. “Thank you so much, Monsieur Andre. I could never have pulled this off without you, and we really wanted it to be a surprise. When I heard Trelain was spending the weekend with his mother, I knew we would have a hard time arriving unannounced on her doorstep.”

  The dance master patted Daniel’s arm. “Oh, my dear, you have no idea. But I was delighted to help. Trelain really does not have enough in his life that makes him genuinely happy. I am thrilled to see that this condition may have changed…dare I say forever?”

  Daniel grinned. “I hope you will help us persuade him to a happier future.”

  Both the smile and the statement made Trelain’s heart leap.

  Mac had let Trelain slide to the floor, though he still held him close. The man now stepped toward Andre. “Hello, sir, I’m Mac MacAllister.”

  “Ah, yes, you wrote that lovely piece on the ballet.” He cocked his head. “How extraordinary. How is your father, Mac?”

  “He’s well, sir.”

  Trelain suspected that Andre was wondering about the son of Devin MacAllister being gay. While the renowned dancer was tolerant of others, he was prickly on the subject of his own heterosexuality. For the first time, Trelain wondered how Devin had responded to Mac’s revelation—or perhaps no such revelation had occurred? Hmm.

  Trelain planted hands firmly on his hips. “All right, enough of this bloody conviviality. My mother is still expecting me tonight, and I need some serious alone time before that occurs.”

  Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Alone?”

  “Alone with the two of you, of course.”

  Whoop. He was flying, this time in Mac’s arms. With Daniel and Andre laughing behind, his beautiful reporter carried him all the way down the staircase at the ballet theatre and into the waiting limousine. While admittedly there were far fewer people around on a Saturday this late in the season, Trelain was sure those who did see would be telling stories for a week.

  Chapter Nineteen

  What in the fuck was taking so long? Mac stared at the polished marble and granite of the Sherry Netherland Hotel. They had two New York apartments to choose from—Daniel’s and Trelain’s—but Daniel had pronounced them too “everyday” for a celebration. Still, this was the last kind of hotel Mac expected the billionaire to choose, all muted tones and crystal chandeliers. They also took a fuckload of time to register people.

  Mac watched the elegant guests going about their business in the lobby. What did they think of the two rock gods and the maintenance man who invaded their domain? Trelain had slipped some jeans over his tights in the limo, but that was as formal as they got. Mac looked down at his cargoes and T-shirt. Definitely garbageman material. Trelain, of course, looked gorgeous. When he wore jeans, he made other people’s suits look
pretentious. His tightly bound hair showed off the perfection of his cheekbones and the great exotic eyes.

  The dancer looked up at Mac. “Why is this taking so bloody long?” He lowered his voice. “I want to fuck you.”

  “Crap, I can’t wait.” He let his fingertip caress Trelain’s hip.

  “Best stop that, love, or I may push you down and ride you here. Those should be some sensational headlines.” He laughed.

  Mac held up a hand framing a headline. “Medveyev Premiers New Ballet at the Sherry Netherland.”

  “More like ‘Medveyev Proves He Is an Asshole.’”

  They laughed, and Daniel glanced over his shoulder at them, smiling. This check-in was more of a love fest of elegant bowing and scraping as the manager welcomed the California billionaire. Jeez, Daniel was something to see in action. Demanding but not entitled, he treated everyone from the doorman to the manager the same. Like they said about Henry Higgins in Pygmalion.

  Daniel turned toward them, gesturing toward the classic old elevators operated by white-gloved elevator attendants. It was like going back in time. Daniel handed Mac the key card. The three of them crowded into the historic contraption where the attendant gazed past the three men like some ancient being who had literally seen it all. But as they approached their floor, the attendant put a hand into his pocket. He stopped the car and made a quick glance as if the hotel manager had somehow managed to slip aboard at the last second. He raised his eyes to Trelain. “I’m so sorry, sir. I truly don’t mean to invade your privacy, but I am such a huge fan. Is there a chance…?” He shyly held out a scrap of paper and a pencil, probably nabbed from the housekeeping carts.

  Trelain flashed that smile that made whole audiences weak. “It’s my pleasure. What is your name?”

  “Henry, sir.”

  “And you like ballet, Henry?”

  “Yes, sir, especially if you are in it.” Mac suspected the love might be more for the dancer than the dance, but who cared?