"Can I help you?"
Liam jerked his gaze away from the walls. Behind a large desk sat a caricature of a man. His hair was an unnatural yellow color, it couldn't be called blonde. It was more white than yellow. The man's face looked like plastic had been layered over it, his smile frozen in place. Liam could tell his lashes were painted to achieve a full look, and there was rouge on his cheeks to affect the look of a suntan.
Liam blinked to stop staring. "I'd like to speak with one of your... employees. A male named Jaspir."
The man's brow quirked an infinitesimal amount before his lips slipped an inch in the approximation of a frown. "I'm sorry, sir. But it's Jaspir's day off."
"I'm not seeking his services."
"Well then, if this is a personal call, you can ring him up on his personal line. I'm sure you have his number."
Liam reached into his pocket. This wasn't the first of Jaspir's employers he'd dealt with. "I don't have my communicator with me." Liam reached past the rectangular telephone device for his leather wallet. "You wouldn't mind if I just popped back there for a moment." He pulled out a few jewels.
The man pocketed the stones, his expression never changing. "As I said before, Jaspir has the day off. So, by no means should you visit his room which is down the hall, and to the right; number six." The man rose from the concierge desk. "It’s time for my break. You see the exit, I'm sure you can let yourself out." And with that, he disappeared through a back door.
Liam made his way down the hall. He heard sounds of pleasure coming from the walls. The sounds and the closed doors reminded him of his childhood home. He shook off the memory and hung a right, coming to door number six. He raised his hand and knocked.
From within, Liam heard a deep groan approach the door accompanied by heavy footsteps. For a moment, Liam panicked. He had to remind himself that he had seen Merlyn walk out of this place. She was not behind this door making those sounds with Jaspir.
At least not now.
The door wrenched open.
"Merlyn, I told you, we can't delay the inevitable—"
Jaspir came to a halt when he saw who was on the other side of the door. Liam saw that the years had been good to him. Jaspir had filled out in all the right places. His shoulders were broad. His chest was bare. Prominent muscles tapered into a V. The bottom of the V disappeared behind the drawstring of his pants.
After the initial shock must have worn off, Jaspir quirked an eyebrow and then leaned against the doorframe as though he'd expected this visit.
Liam clenched his fists, ready to strike out, but then he sighed. "May I come in, please?"
"Isn't this ironic? You want to come into my home after you had me kicked out of mine."
"You're lucky you were kicked out by the gardener instead of imprisoned by a Peace Officer."
"So, it’s a thank you that you're looking for."
"You should be thanking me." Liam had gone to the head gardener, instead of the ladies of the house, for two reasons.
"I'll give you this," Jaspir said. "You are smart. She never suspected it was you who got me kicked out. Am I right?"
That was the first reason he'd sidestepped Lady Angyla and Lady Regyn. The second reason he'd never admit to the man before him.
"Oh, I get it now." Jaspir squared his shoulders, giving Liam a pitiful look. "They wouldn't have listened to you; the females. Merlyn doesn't even know you're alive. That's why she had to come find me all these years later."
Liam did swing his fist this time, but Jaspir deftly sidestepped his punch. Liam stumbled into the room.
"You don't have a future with her," Liam heaved. "I do."
Jaspir closed the door behind him and leaned back against the frame. "I know. That's why I sent her away."
"What does she see in you? I'm her match in every way. Genealogically, mentally, temperamentally. Even physically. Women find men over six feet tall more appealing."
If Liam expected an argument from Jaspir he was sorely disappointed. The other male simply eyed him patiently.
"I'm with her every day, though sometimes she hardly notices. I know everything about her, but I doubt she knows much about me. I can anticipate her every need. I know her mind inside and out. And yet she still chooses you. Why?"
"Because I know her heart," Jaspir said.
"What does that even mean?"
Jaspir crossed the room. "The fact that you don't know worries me. You can't think or reason your way to love. It’s something you feel."
Liam shook his head thinking back to his parents, his father alone in the room, the servant smirking behind his back. "You assign duties to the heart that the organ wasn't designed for. It pumps blood, that's all it’s good for. The brain is able to process and make connections that last. I'd rather have her think of me as her match than feel it in her heart."
"Interesting theory. Look where it has gotten you. In the bedroom of your betrothed's lover."
Liam hung his head. As he did, a new thought popped into his mind. "You love her." It wasn't a question, so he didn't wait for an answer. "You want her to be happy." He stood and faced Jaspir. This man whose ghost haunted him during each day for the last ten years. "Then teach me."
"I can't teach you to love her."
"No," said Liam. "Teach me to pleasure her. You're trained in the sexual arts. Those are teachable lessons. Teach me. All the benefit will go to her."
A
