Page 30 of Jonathon, After All

For as long as Jonathon lived, he would never understand how he could have been so wrong about Leo von Hessen and how anyone could be so heartless. Leo could have used Jonathon and kept matters between them purely physical. Jonathon could have made it out of Austria with his pride and his heart intact if Leo hadn’t made him believe in fairy tales.

How could you do it?

Jonathon thought back to “their” ball and what should have been the most magical night of his entire existence. It had all been so perfect and Leo had made Jonathon believe that he was magical and somehow deserving of a prince.

But in hindsight, the evening would serve as the most epic example of gaslighting Jonathon had ever witnessed. It still took his breath away when he recalled how easily Leo had managed it and how completely Jonathon had fallen for the entire sham of an evening.

Their “magical” private ball—like most unfortunate events—started innocently enough over breakfast, with a bit of mischief and a flashy white suit.

“It’s the Opera Ball, dearest. You’ll be expected,” Sabine had scolded Leo but he smiled at her over his paper, looking rather pleased as he reclined and crossed his legs.

“No, I won’t, because you provided me with the perfect excuse. I’m here to take a break and recover. Going to a ball wouldn’t be very restful, would it?”

She blinked back at him, then smiled at Muriel. “I’m sure you still appreciate tradition and decorum. Will you be attending the ball, Ms. Hormsby?”

“Bah! Of course,” Muriel said over the rim of her cup. “Not because I appreciate tradition and decorum, though. Can’t think of anything more boring. I’ll be there for the gossip and the tails. Men rarely dress up these days and it’s nice to pretend they still have standards and good taste.”

Jonathon sighed at his yogurt and shrugged. “It’s so much work and you have to have the right frame. I look like I’m on my way to Mass with my parents because I’m so skinny and I don’t have the shoulders to pull off a real suit.” He risked a quick glance at Leo, in his perfect charcoal tweed three-piece suit and hummed appreciatively. “Although, I do appreciate a man who can pull one off,” he said and licked the yogurt off his spoon.

That got a wry chuckle out of Muriel. “Don’t we all?”

But Sabine’s brow had quirked and she looked confused while Leo shifted in his seat and mumbled about the rain. If Jonathon was any good at telegraphing his thoughts, Leo knew who was pulling his suit off later.

“Will you be attending?” Sabine asked Jonathon and he shook his head, wrinkling his nose at Muriel.

“I did bring that white suit you made me get, but I doubt they’d let me attend as a debutante,” he said, making Muriel gasp excitedly.

“Oh, you should! The heads you’d turn. You might accidentally find a husband,” she drawled, causing Leo’s brows to pinch and he looked like he was about to say something but Sabine clicked her teeth.

“If you insist on making a clown out of yourself, Mr. Hawthorne. But I ask that you refrain from doing so while you’re the Margrave’s guest,” she said with a placid, plastic smile.

“He can wear what he wants. I don’t care,” Leo said simply.

A delighted hoot burst from Muriel. “There you have it! Jonathon’s making his debut tonight,” she declared but Jonathon scoffed and shook his head.

“Jonathon is doing nothing of the sort. Unless he can dance with who he wants to dance with, he’s staying here and enjoying his book.”

The Opera Ball was one of the reasons Muriel had come to Schönbühel after the holidays. The Austrians were famous for their rich, romantic history and the Opera Ball was the pinnacle of the season. While listed as a public event, it was still extremely exclusive with tickets selling out a year in advance. It was also one of the most traditional and revered of the Viennese society balls, so many prominent politicians and aristocrats would be there.

Jonathon was both relieved that he would miss it and shocked that Leo wasn’t going. He had said as much when he met Leo in the library an hour later. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t going to the ball?”

“Why would you assume I would?” Leo countered, then winced sheepishly. “I had assumed that you would be going with your aunt,” he said and Jonathon’s face twisted and his tongue pushed out as he gagged.

“God, no. I hate dressing up.”

“That’s a shame,” Leo had replied as he towed Jonathon into their secret alcove by the stained glass window. He raised Jonathon’s hand and kissed his knuckles, licking between his fingers. “I adore you like this,” he said, gesturing at Jonathon’s simple navy cardigan, white T-shirt, jeans, and Converse. “I adore you naked.” Instead of sitting, Leo turned Jonathon so he was facing the chair. “But I want to see you in your white suit,” he whispered into Jonathon’s hair, making him shiver as goosebumps spread down his neck.

Jonathon started to nod, then remembered how tight it was and how silly he felt in it. “Could I show you a picture? I’m pretty sure Muriel still has one on her phone. She swore I looked like a model and she was going to find me an agent, but I told her no and threatened to poison her martinis,” he muttered, earning a strained chuckle from Leo as he nibbled on Jonathon’s ear.

He reached around Jonathon’s waist and dealt with the fly, then pushed his jeans and boxer briefs down. “Wear the suit when you come to me tonight,” he ordered in a low, deep growl that made Jonathon’s knees knock as he started to sweat.

“Do I have to?”

A hand slid around Jonathon’s throat, the thumb strumming his carotid. “I want to see you in this head-turning suit. In my mind, you are magical and I need to see it for myself.”

“You’ll probably be disappoi?—”

The hand around Jonathon’s throat squeezed, silencing him and his doubts. “I could never be disappointed. You are always beautiful to me.”

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