Page 11 of Winds of War

“I don't doubt it. After all, you will be the one training the future leader,” Alasdair reluctantly agreed, still shocked by his husband's decision. “He'll need an advisor, someone familiar with our politics and alliances, a skilled negotiator and good diplomat, able to swim in troubled waters. Do you alreadyhave someonein mind?”

“Yes, Ira.” Ardan's answer came right away. “The kid has an uncanny ability to read people's minds. He sees through the thickest veil of deceit, studies his opponents, and tries to anticipate and neutralize their next move. As for the politics, he'll have plenty of time to learn everything he needs to know.”

“You’ve thought about everything, haven't you?” Alasdair craned his neck and started to brush his lips along his husband's jawline. “Did I ever tell you how sexy you are when you make long-term plans?” The redhead brushed away a strand that fell on Ardan's forehead, partially covering one of his eyes. “You still need to talk with your sons and nephew, tell them about your decision, and listen to what they have to say on the matter.”

“I'll do that in a couple of days after Seamus's first meeting with that pile of garbage Montemayor.” Ardan let out a long sigh. “I have to talk to Cian first thing in the morning, apologize if my words hurt my son in any way, and encourage him to talk to Soames. Love is the greatest feeling in the world but expressing it can be extremely difficult sometimes.” The man smiled at distant, happy memories.

“I agree”—Alasdair grinned cutely—“and it's the same with getting the message. There was this poor guy, sensible, patient, and understanding, who fell hard for a little, pesky redhead. He cooked him breakfast, showered him with attention and presents, but the little douchebag still didn't get the message.”

“I knew these two, too.” Ardan smirked. “From what I've heard, they got married, raised five beautiful children, and the rumors have it they will grow old together. Or are you not talking about the same couple?” The man frowned playfully and, rolling on one side, faced his husband.

The two of them lost themselves in one another's eyes, which spoke volumes, making words useless. The turquoises and emeralds melted together, telling a story of passion, endurance, strength, courage, and sometimes despair, but never defeat. It was the story of two souls who found the way to each other and, in spite of all the adversities, became one.

Cupping Alasdair's face with both hands, Ardan brushed his lips over those of his husband in a sweet and tender kiss. As innocent as it was, the kiss touched the very core of the redhead's soul, bringing tears of happiness to his eyes and making him respond in the same way. A few minutes later, Ardan and Alasdair fell asleep in each other's arms, serenity wrapping around them like a soft, comfy blanket.

CHAPTER 9

“No, man, no way in hell! What were you thinking when you teamed me up with him?” Spyros put a finger on the sheet of paper he was holding in his hand, then threw it across the room. “I thought you were my friend,” he said in a frustrated, almost angry voice.

“And I didn't think you hated me, but it seems you do, and that should make me reconsider our friendship,” Seamus calmly replied, picking the sheet of paper from the floor. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to put this list together? How many hours I spent spying on those guys and discreetly investigating them? Grow the fuck up, Spyros!”

“Look, I'm not saying you shouldn't have included that one on the list at all, but the idea of me directly collaborating with him makes my skin crawl.” The guard lowered his voice, softening it.

Seamus rolled his eyes, letting out a long-suffering sigh. “Plop your ass on that chair and let me explain everything like you were the fucking boss of me.” He gestured to the other end of the room. “I'm posing as a mean motherfucker who sells nasty shit to half of the globe, my bodyguard has to be as intimidating as I am, if not more.”

“I agree with that. Keep only him as bodyguard. The dude is scary as hell if you ask me.” Spyros became slightly irritated again. “Put me in charge of supervising the transport or something else. I...”

“The mean bastard also needs an advisor of sorts, someone who knows the boss's business inside and out and to rock an expensive, three-piece, designer suit. Initially, I planned to use Flannagan, but then I thought Montemayor may have rogue secret service agents on his payroll, and one of them could recognize my right hand.” Letting out a loudsigh, Seamuscut Spyros short.

“So you thought of me for the job.” Spyros shook his head in defeat, then hung it low. “Wait a minute.” He raised his head after a few moments of silence. “Who says the advisor and the bodyguard have to get along? They can be each other's worst enemies. I've witnessed a few cases myself...”

“No. That would create a bad impression,” Seamus spoke in a cold, sharp voice. “Both the bodyguard and the advisor work for the drug lord bastard, serving him to their best abilities. Keeping him happy is their main goal in life.” The man sighed in defeat. ”What do you have against Van, my friend?”

Spyros's eyes widened in surprise. “Who, me? Nothing at all. The goddamn prick started everything. He was the one who fucking forcefully kissed me, then got me hard and kicked me out to the curb, not to mention shoving his fingers deep into my ass when I went to his dorm to apologize.” Spyros stopped, ready to explode from anger and frustration.

“So, you went to his room to apologize,” Seamus started, a hint of amusement in his cobalt-blue eyes. “I'd say you were intentionally looking for trouble. You could have apologized the next day while out patrolling. Plus, it was you who started all the shit.”

“I didn't start anything. You... I didn't want you to worry in there even more than you did, but when that bloody beast took the kids...It was bad, really bad, and the thought that it could happen again, that you could lose Nico because I didn't pay attention to the signs and let the guard down...”

“You said Van kissed you forcefully.” Seamus swallowed hard, his throat tightening. “What did you feel? What did he do to you more specifically? If the guy hurt you in any way, I'll put him into the ground with my own two hands.”

Spyros blinked, surprised by his best friend's words. “No need for that, really. It wasn’t the case. He...he just was an arrogant bastard for kissing me roughly like that, demandingly, as if he were my fucking owner. His tongue was like home in my mouth, I haven't felt so...so...in my whole life. It was...well, I'd written you a long-ass message at the time. I don't want to put myself through that again.”

But just as he spoke, Spyros remembered the way Van tasted on his lips, the man's mouth covering his, the whirlwind of sensations he experienced when the other man's tongue explored his mouth, lightly caressing the inside of his cheeks. Spyros cast a poisonous glare in Seamus's direction, mentally cursing his friend for letting those memories out.

The other man extracted a folder from a desk drawer and started to look through it, ignoring Spyros, who didn't know what to do because Seamus didn't ask him to stay, but he didn't tell him he could leave, either. With nothing to do, and almost against his will, the guard started to remember all the encounters he and Van had.

He was a fucking brute who didn't stop when you asked and didn't care about you at all, Spyros said to himself. Why the hell would you give a damn about him? But, moments after the thought was formed in his mind, the man knew he wasn't right. He enjoyed everything Van did to him, from that ravaging, dominating kiss to their last, hottest encounter.

Spyros even liked to be called boy, although back then, he was irritated every time it happened. The low growl in Van's voice every time he said the word sent a ball of fire to Spyros's groin, making a certain part of his anatomy react in a way that brought an amused smirk on the other man's face.

“What are you thinking about, man? Where are you right now? Because I'm damn sure you’re not in this room.” Seamus's amused voice pulled Spyros from his thoughts. ”Uh-oh, you’re blushing. That means...”

“No, it doesn't mean a goddamn thing,” the guard cut his friend short, suddenly irritated. “I'm agreeing to this because the scheme you, the boss, Xavier, and Dehaan devised will cause great loses to that Montemayor scum, but once I'm done playing my part...”

“Spyros, stop being an asshole and admit it. Van is good for you. He’s also good to you. I've done my homework. Had it not been so, the guy would have been already six feet under, buried alive. Let it go and embrace what you really feel for him.”

Seamus's words, spoken in such a warm voice, seemed to find their way to his friend's heart and made him sigh heavily. “You’ve won. I'll talk to that...to Van, but if he laughs at my feelings, you can forget about our friendship,” Spyros warned, leaving his seat.

---