Those hazel eyes flicked up from his task. “Did you really expect me to let you leave like this?”
He stared back at the man, puzzled. “Did I…?” The words trickled away. What had he expected? Nae a damn thing. It was far easier to anticipate indifference once the deed was done, for he was right more often than he wished to admit.
Judging by the man’s hesitancy and tender movements, Darshan didn’t do this very often. Hamish couldn’t imagine an imperial prince cleansing himself, let alone others. Still, he appreciated the effort.
Darshan tossed the cloth over his shoulder, where it hit the floor with a slap. He laid the hand that’d been holding the damp cloth onto Hamish’s stomach. The palm radiated warmth.
Hamish inched up the bed. “What—?”
“Hush,” the spellster whispered, gently withdrawing his touch as if Hamish were a spooked colt. “It is merely a little heat. Nothing to worry about, but I will stop if you prefer.”
Hamish shook his head. He’d already had magic performed on him once tonight, what was a little more? And now the moisture on his skin had been given time to cool, his stomach felt rather exposed, despite having the obvious advantage of a denser patch of hair than other parts.
Darshan resumed applying gentle heat. “Since, I assume, we agree on compatibility?”
“Aye,” he murmured, still focused on what the magic was doing. It seemed to be drying his skin far better than cloth could manage. “That we do.”
“Would you… like to continue?”
“Now?” He tore his gaze from Darshan’s hand to stare mortified at the man. “I dinnae think I have the strength.”
Throwing back his head, Darshan laughed long and hard. “Nor do I,” he clarified once he was able to do more than chuckle and wheeze. “But I meant in the sense we continue our little clandestine affair.”
“I’d like that.” Hamish went to sit up only to have the man’s weight firmly pin him back onto the mattress. “Just so we’re both clear on where this is heading, given that this is uncharted waters for me, what happens now?”
“I shall leave that up to you,” Darshan replied, sitting back. “I have some experience in being considered as just another avenue for pleasure and I would understand if you wish to take it no further than that. But if you would prefer something a little more formal—a relationship, for example—I am open to that possibility.”
“What?” Hamish grinned. “Actually be lovers?”
“If that is what you want from this, then I am willing.” There was a peculiar energy to the man’s position, almost a readiness to spring out of the way should need be.
“That sounds—” Something about Darshan’s expression halted his tongue. Was that a faint flicker of concern across the man’s face? Or was he projecting his own uncertainties? Did he actually think Hamish would reject him? Now?
He caressed Darshan’s cheek. “I’d like to try.” It would all be gone once Darshan’s ambassadorial duties were done. He wasn’t daft enough to believe otherwise. But for now, he’d settle for a piece of what his siblings once had. No matter how small that time would be.
Darshan smiled, tension visibly melting from his whole body. “I had rather hoped you would.” He shuffled further onto the bed, snuggling on top of Hamish and pillowing his head atop Hamish’s chest. “Just for a while,” he murmured. “If you do not mind.”
Hamish released his breath in one long, contented exhalation. Reason warned him that he couldn’t stay any longer, but the man’s comforting weight, his warmth…
“Aye,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around Darshan so that his hands sat comfortably in the small of the spellster’s back. “A wee while will be fine.” If this was what it meant to have a lover, he definitely didn’t want to lose the man any sooner than he had to.
The comfortably warm body beneath Darshan lurched. Before he could drag his thoughts out of the groggy sludge of sleep, he found himself thrown unceremoniously off the bed. A shield enveloped him as he hit the floor, his healing magic taking over soon after to ease the smarting of his bare arse hitting the old wooden planks.
Darshan scrambled to his knees, groping for his glasses even as he clicked his fingers to have a flame flicker to life in his hand—a childish act, but one he leant on in times like these. He peered at the scene before him.
Hamish bumbled about the room, gathering up his things in preparation for a hasty retreat.
He watched his lover race to don the bare minimum of his clothing. He had witnessed a few hurried exits from his chambers in the past, but never with this much fearful urgency.
“ ‘Mish?” The word came slowly, his tongue still stiff with sleep. Even to his ears, his voice was heavy with concern. “What is it?” Had their affair been discovered so quickly? He glanced at the door as his questing fingers found his glasses. The iron-bound, wooden panels were still intact and closed, whereas his ears picked up only the hurried scuffle of a man dressing.
“How could you let me sleep that long?” Hamish replied, hopping on one leg as he hauled on his boots.
“Surely, we cannot have slept for more than a few minutes.” He recalled closing his eyes only moments ago.
“The moon’s well up.” Hamish waved a hand at the window. Sure enough, the sill was illuminated in pale light. “Midnight, I’d wager. I should’ve met up with me brother hours ago.”
Darshan continued to stare at the window whilst putting on his glasses. Now that he could see, a glance over his shoulder confirmed that the candles had
