by Ava March
Definitely not something he should ignore.
That spark shouted for him to spend at least one more evening with Gabriel, to explore the possibilities now that they were adults.
But if Gabriel was still attracted to him, then why had he chosen Charlotte—
Anthony shoved the question aside. Seven years had passed, after all. Perhaps Gabriel simply hadn’t been sure of his preferences back then. Perhaps he’d felt an obligation to marry, regardless of the incident in the rose garden. That was the past, and while it would be prudent not to ignore it completely, Anthony should give Gabriel the benefit of the doubt and focus on the present...which included seeing a devastatingly gorgeous Gabriel again tomorrow.
And if Gabriel thought Anthony’s invitation included a quiet evening in one of the Drury Lane’s elegant private boxes, well, he’d soon find he was quite mistaken.
Chapter Two
The town carriage turned the corner then slowed to a stop. “Here we are,” Anthony said, leaning left to reach for the brass lever. His knee bumped against Gabriel’s. A fresh jolt of awareness swept through Anthony. Time definitely hadn’t dulled the attraction he felt toward Gabriel. “And you can leave your gloves on the bench.” Soft kidskin gloves that declared Gabriel a gentleman wouldn’t be needed tonight.
“All right,” Gabriel said, clearly a bit confused. But he heeded Anthony’s request all the same before following him out of the carriage. “What time does the performance start?”
“Not until seven, so no worries we’re in danger of missing the beginning.” Then Anthony turned to his driver. “Just wait up the street a ways. We’ll come back out the usual door after the performance is over.”
Gabriel looked up and down Russell Street. The tailored navy coat, the perfectly tied crisp white cravat, the gorgeous features and refined bearing... The lack of gloves did absolutely nothing to disguise the fact he was welcome among the ton. Ah well. Hopefully Gabriel wouldn’t be discomforted by the sneers that would likely be thrown their way. “Is this the front of the theatre?” He sounded as if he was trying to hide his disappointment.
“No. That’s on Catherine Street, but I prefer to enter from the side.” Perhaps he should have taken Gabriel in through the front doors, but the whole point of an evening at Drury Lane was to experience a side of London they didn’t get to see on a daily basis. And the Grand Saloon, though quite grand, was just a larger version of a ton drawing room. Filled with polite conversations and pretense. And there he’d be obligated to make introductions, to share Gabriel, when his goal was to spend time with Gabriel to explore the possibility of maybe something more between them. “Over there,” he said, motioning toward where a throng of people were entering through a door.
“Do we need to purchase tickets?”
“Already got them earlier today.” While he’d waited that morning at the town house for Simon to rouse his arse out of bed, he’d decided he should get the matter of the tickets out of the way before he picked up Gabriel. “We can go straight into the theatre.”
“How much do I owe you for mine?” Gabriel asked, as they took up a place at the end of the throng.
“Nothing.”
“But—”
“Really. Nothing.” The size of his bank account might be an unknown, but he could handle a shilling for Gabriel.
A pause. Just when he thought Gabriel would insist on paying his own way, he said, “Thank you.”
Anthony nudged Gabriel with his shoulder. “Best not thank me until we get inside.”
Puzzlement flickered across Gabriel’s brow.
Anthony let out a chuckle. That frown on Gabriel’s brow grew stronger.
“There’s no need for concern. Drury Lane isn’t Seven Dials. Though...” He looked to his left, toward where an orange seller was hawking her wares. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Gabriel opened his mouth, but before he could protest, Anthony slipped through the crowd around them. He didn’t dart over to the girl, though he was quick about it. Given Gabriel’s uncertainty, it was best not to leave the man alone for any length of time. It wasn’t that he was concerned Gabriel would bolt on him, more that he suspected Gabriel wouldn’t want to be left on his own in such unfamiliar surroundings.
The instant he returned to his spot at Gabriel’s side, he felt some of the tension drain out of the man. Not all of it, but some.
They made their way inside. Instead of taking the stairs up to the circles or the balcony, they went straight ahead. As they stepped out onto the ground floor, Gabriel slowed to a stop, his head tipping back and his eyes growing wide. The large gas chandelier hanging above the pit illuminated the good two thousand people occupying the theatre. Ladies and gentlemen were taking their places in the elegant private boxes, the seats in the grand and first circles on the second and third levels were filling up fast and the balcony benches way up on the top level were already half-full. The noise of so many people talking at once pressed against Anthony’s ears.
“Quite the sight, isn’t it?”
Gabriel nodded, a slow bob of his head, his gaze now on the great green curtain covering the stage.
He placed a hand on Gabriel’s lower back. “This way,” he said, nudging Gabriel forward. It was tempting to slide his hand lower, to grasp the firm arse he’d briefly seen in all its bare glory seven years ago. Yet he resisted and merely guided Gabriel around the crowd about them and toward the back of the theatre. The ground floor might lack the formality of a ton function, but arse-grabbling levels of informality weren’t acceptable anywhere but behind a closed door.
Pity that.
Once they passed the last row of the stalls, Anthony paused to show their tickets to an attendant.
“Here?” Gabriel asked, as if just realizing where Anthony had led them.
“Yes. The pit. Best seats in the house.”
Gabriel gave him a look that clearly said he doubted Anthony’s mental capacity. “Do you have an affinity for being as far from a performance as possible?”
Anthony chuckled. “Actually, the farthest seats are up in the top balcony. It’s entertaining up there, but not as much so as down here. Trust me. You’ll enjoy the show. There’s a spot over there,” he said, nudging his chin toward a vacant space at the end of the bench in the last row. He usually favored someplace closer to the front of the pit, but given he was with Gabriel... He gave Gabriel a little push toward the vacant spot. “Now move along before someone else takes it.”
Whether Gabriel was too polite to argue further or whether he actually trusted Anthony, he wasn’t certain. All that mattered was that Gabriel heeded his nudge. He followed Gabriel past the crowded rows of raucous men and to the very back of the pit. But instead of sitting down at the designated place, Gabriel paused.
“I don’t think there is enough room for two,” Gabriel said, looking down at the barely two feet available at the end of the wooden bench.
“Sit. They cram everyone together down here.”
With a shrug, Gabriel did as requested. Anthony settled beside him, so close his biceps pressed into Gabriel’s. He felt Gabriel stiffen, felt those sleek muscles gather as if to move away from him. Yet the portly elderly man on Gabriel’s right acted as a very effective wall, keeping Gabriel exactly where he was.
Gabriel folded his bare hands on his lap, his back ramrod straight. The man was so rigid one would think he was at a formal supper.
“It’s all right,” Anthony murmured. He had a strong suspicion it wasn’t their surroundings but the proximity of Anthony’s person causing that stiffness. While he wanted to be close to Gabriel, he didn’t want to cause Gabriel to cross the line from the good sort of uncomfortable to the bad sort. “Everyone around us is sitting budged up against each other.”
Grass-green eyes met his, the uncertainty still there.
“Really, it’s all right.” He leaned even closer and gave Gabriel a wink. “It’s part of the fun of the theatre.” He didn’t know any other place where it was perfectly acceptable to sit almost indecently close to another man and not have even one eyebrow raised at the sight.
Comprehension dawned in those gorgeous eyes. Anthony looked, but he didn’t see outright resistance there. A shade of that uncertainty, a thread of excitement, but no resistance. Still, Anthony should keep his teasing to a minimum...at least for now. Gabriel had probably never been someplace in public where he could let his guard down a tad and simply enjoy being close to another man. Likely he’d need a bit to get accustomed to the notion.
“Care for an orange?” Anthony reached into his pocket and produced the two he’d purchased earlier. “Refreshments are rather limited down here. Only drawback of the pit.”
“Thank you.” Gabriel took one of the oranges. “And you really prefer it down here?”
“Indeed.” He began to peel the rind from his own fruit. “No conversations about the weather. No talk of Parliament or estates. No need to don white gloves or to spend a half an hour tying my cravat in a perfect knot. I can just have a jolly good evening, partake of a decent orange and enjoy the show.”
“But can you even see the stage from here?”
Anthony grinned. “Ah, but the real show is all around us.” He popped a section of fruit into his mouth.
Gabriel pulled his attention from Anthony and glanced about them. The boisterous pit held mostly men of varying ages, though scattered among the coats was the occasional woman. Rouged lips and poorly constructed gowns with highlighted assets. Likely from the lower classes of paid companions. To Anthony’s relief, Gabriel’s gaze didn’t linger on even one of them.
Grabbing any excuse he could to lean in closer to Gabriel, Anthony whispered in his ear, “Three rows up, middle of the bench. Blond in the black coat and the auburn-haired fellow.” He paused for a brief moment, and then decided to go for it, to see how Gabriel would respond. “Do you think they are lovers?”
Gabriel’s brows lowered as he switched his attention to the two in question. He smelled just as delicious as he appeared. He must still use the same shaving soap. Or maybe that crisp refined scent was just Gabriel. “I don’t know. Is there any way to tell?” he asked in a low murmur.
“From our vantage point? Not really.” Anthony took a deep breath. Hell, he loved that scent. His prick stirred in his trousers. “But I’ve seen them here before. Young merchants, perhaps? Maybe in business together? Maybe that’s how they hide their relationship. I bet the blond craves a strong hand in the bedchamber.”
The sleek, muscular body beside him went rigid. Then Gabriel shifted, just the barest bit, a mere rearrangement of his weight. Yet Anthony could feel the tension of unfulfilled lust in that small movement. Did the idea of submitting to a strong hand or wielding one appeal most to Gabriel? Oh, that was definitely an intriguing question. Their one kiss ages ago hadn’t revealed all that much when it came to preferred roles in a bedchamber.
“You can’t possibly know that just by looking at him,” Gabriel countered.
“Perhaps, but it makes for an interesting notion to pretend that I can.”
Green eyes slanted to him. Anthony let his lips tip up at the edges, let just a hint of the wicked thoughts swirling in his head show in his eyes.
He had been with a man or two who had wanted Anthony to push him around, to give commands. It had been enjoyable in the sense of trying something new and forbidden, and it wasn’t as if he’d refuse Gabriel if that was what Gabriel wanted from him. Yet to have Gabriel grab the reins of command with him?
Lust jolted through him, settling in his groin.
Gabriel shoving him to his knees. Gabriel pushing him over the side of the couch, yanking his trousers down. Gabriel throwing aside all reserve and using him until Anthony was gasping for breath, senses shimmering in post-orgasmic bliss.
Try as Anthony might, he couldn’t stifle the moan. A hoarse rumble rattled his throat. Fortunately, the noise of the theatre would keep it from reaching anyone else’s ears...except for Gabriel’s.
An answering low growl reverberated from Gabriel’s chest. Then he abruptly broke eye contact and studied the back of the head of the man in front of them. A hint of color touched his cheeks.
Anthony glanced down. That was definitely an erection beginning to tent the placket of Gabriel’s trousers. The hands clasping an unpeeled orange couldn’t hide it completely.
And that low sound? It had most assuredly been a growl, not a groan. A sinful sound full of dominance and desire and pure want that called to a part of Anthony’s soul he hadn’t even been aware was there before. Perhaps Gabriel wasn’t always as reserved as he let on. Anthony had been with enough men to know one’s behavior in public didn’t always match one’s desires in a bedchamber. He studied Gabriel, looking for more signs of that intoxicating dominance. Yet the man had gone all stiff again, and not the good sort one associated with barely leashed need, but the uncomfortable sort.
Gabriel definitely hadn’t yet grown accustomed to letting his guard down a bit in public. It made Anthony feel rather sorry for him. To always feel as though just a wayward glance could get one sent to the gallows was no way to live. Being attracted to men wasn’t the easiest thing, but there were instances when iron-clad vigilance wasn’t always necessary.
In any case, if Anthony continued to allow his mind to wander into erotic territories, he’d be sporting an erection so obvious the old man on the other side of Gabriel would notice it. And that would be pushing into too obvious even for Anthony’s liking.
The mammoth chandelier overhead dimmed, plunging the theatre into semi-darkness, and then the great green curtain began to rise, revealing the stage.
“King Richard the Third.”
The long fan of Gabriel’s lashes swept down and then up as he blinked. “Pardon?”
“Tonight’s performance,” Anthony clarified.
Height had its advantages, and one of them was at the theatre. Even though they were in the back, all Anthony had to do was lean slightly toward Gabriel to see over the top of the head of the man in front of him.
An actor clad in Shakespearean garb walked out onto the stage. The many conversations in the theatre faded as if someone had shut a door, closing out most of the noise though not all of it. The audience was never fully silent at Drury Lane.
Settling in for the show, Anthony leaned a shoulder into Gabriel’s. Their spot in the pit really was ideal. No one behind them or to Anthony’s left, and only Gabriel beside him. There was still some tension in Gabriel’s frame, but at least the man didn’t try to lean away from him. Anthony did, however, feel Gabriel’s biceps bunch and flex. A glance down confirmed Gabriel wasn’t attempting to shrug him off, but was merely peeling his orange.
“Where’s the nearest rubbish bin? For the rind,” Gabriel said, voice low.
“There are no bins down here. Just drop it on the floor,” Anthony whispered.
Gabriel turned his head toward Anthony. They were so close it would take but a tilt of Anthony’s chin to brush their lips together. “Are you certain?”
“Yes.” Anthony reached over to Gabriel’s lap. His fingers encountered warm skin. Sensation shot up his arm.
It would have taken the self-restraint of a saint to stop himself from lingering over Gabriel’s bare hand. And such restraint he did not possess.
Eyes locked with Gabriel’s, Anthony tangled his fingers with Gabriel’s. A nervous furrow crossed Gabriel’s brow. Those gorgeous lips parted, as if to voice a warning, yet Gabriel didn’t move his hand from beneath Anthony’s. Still, he decided it was best not to push Gabriel too far.
He located the distinct textured rind of the orange, slipped it from Gabriel’s hand and tossed the piece to th
eir feet. “See, nobody came over to point fingers at us. It’s perfectly all right.”
A moment passed. Then Gabriel gave a short nod. He turned his attention to his fruit. As his fingers worked to finish peeling it, Anthony watched as Gabriel’s leg shifted a couple of inches, enough for his knee to press against Anthony’s own. To anyone in their row who bothered to notice, it wouldn’t appear scandalous at all. But what mattered was that Anthony hadn’t initiated the contact—Gabriel had.
Still leaning against Gabriel’s shoulder, Anthony couldn’t help but smile.
Bringing his hand up, Gabriel’s lips parted as he took a bite of the fruit.
The urge to kiss Gabriel grabbed hold of him. To lick the juice from the man’s lips, to have a taste of sweet orange mixed with Gabriel.
Damn the theatre. The house lights were dimmed but not low enough to conceal a kiss. His mind raced over options. Would the corridor leading back to Russell Street be empty by now?
Likely not. People frequently arrived late. Ah well. But...there was always later this evening. The show would end well before ten. Much too early to simply return Gabriel to his sister’s town house.
He could take Gabriel to his bachelor apartments.
No. A bit too soon for that, given Gabriel’s reserve. And really, it would be wise for Anthony to continue to exercise some caution when it came to Gabriel, and therefore he shouldn’t jump too quickly into a bed with him. A kiss, though, was just a kiss. And it would be a relatively tame way to take another step in exploring the possibility of more between them.
As the actors moved about the stage, Anthony let his thoughts wander over the options London offered. Options that could involve the two of them being alone.
* * *
The light from a street lamp cut through the carriage window, briefly illuminating Anthony’s ruggedly handsome profile, as they made their way through the streets of London. The comparative quiet of the carriage, with only the sounds of the horses’ hooves and the wheels against the road breaking the silence, was a welcome reprieve from the boisterous theatre. That wasn’t to say Gabriel hadn’t enjoyed himself at Drury Lane. The place had definitely been something to see. And once he’d heeded Anthony’s advice and allowed himself to relax, he had even enjoyed the performance. But more importantly, he had been with Anthony, and seated so close to him that Gabriel’s skin could still feel the press of Anthony’s body against his own even though Anthony currently sat across from him in the carriage.
