Page 63 of Nothing But the Night (Basic Instincts 2)

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Marc went into the office for the day. Though he didn’t want company or to have to explain what had happened to anyone, he didn’t want to be alone either. He needed to be close to other people. On arrival, he told his assistant that he didn’t want any calls.

“If anyone asks, I’m not here,” he said, closing the door.

Jason had promised to call as soon as he had any news. Marc hadn’t wanted to stay home by himself. It was crazy, but despite his high-tech security system, he no longer felt safe in his own house. He loathed that idea. It was the house he’d bought with Jack, the place they’d spent so many happy years together, and now he was spooked to be there on his own.

Marc twisted his wedding ring, thinking about Jack. As wonderful as it was to be developing feelings for Jason, Jack was always with him. The damn virus had taken him so suddenly. They had thought they had decades ahead of them, then he was gone. They’d never had a talk about what a future could be for one of them if the other was gone. Marc knew he was too young to realistically spend the rest of his life alone, but he’d had no interest in any kind of relationship until now.

He'd managed to satisfy his physical needs with a handful of random, emotionless hook ups, and had wanted nothing more than that. When one of those anonymous men had asked him his name, and a few of them had, he’d always lied. He hadn’t wanted any kind of attachment beyond serviceable sex.

Now Jason had changed everything.

Of all the men Marc had fucked since Jack, Jason was the hottest. He was beautiful, tough, sexy. Those blue-green eyes could put him in a trance. But it was far more than sex. With Jason, Marc could relax. The circumstances could hardly have been worse, butyesterday, spending a quiet day at home with Jason had been very special. It had given Marc a glimpse of what his future could look like. Of a new beginning.

Jack would always be in his heart and with him in spirit.

But Jason could be with him in life.

The telephone rang, interrupting his reflection.

“No calls, please,” he said. “Tell them I’m not here.”

“I would, Mr Glass,” his assistant, Cary said. “But it’s Soloman Archer on the phone. You know, the MP. He won’t take no for an answer.”

Marc straightened up, suddenly alert. “Put him through.”

“Mr Glass. Thank you for taking my call.” The smooth voice of the politician was unmistakable. “I was shocked to hear what has happened to you. You’re recovering well, I hope.”

Marc’s name had been kept out of the press regarding the recent incidents. Someone in Blyham police was obviously keeping the local MP informed. “Then you’ll also know why this happened. In relation to the investigation into my brother’s death.”

“Another tragedy.” Two words, steeped in insincerity.

“You knew Theo well.” It was not a question.

“I was most distressed to learn of the accident. Your brother was a fine man.”

Is this guy for fucking real?Soloman Archer was still in the frame for the murders and attempted murders. He might not have got his hands dirty himself, but it was a real possibility that he’d paid someone to deal with the inconvenience for him. Why was he calling now?

“I know all about your relationship,” Marc said firmly. He wasn’t going to dick around with thisarsehole. If Soloman wanted to speak to him, it would be in full honesty. He didn’t want to hear the political whitewashed version. “What do you want?”

“All right, I need to speak to you.” The veneer of grace had vanished. He spoke in the cold, privileged tone of someone used to getting what he wanted.

“I’m only concerned with the truth. If you want to talk me into abandoning the investigation, you’re wasting your time. It’s gone beyond my own interest. The press is already involved.”

There was a hiss of breath on the phone, and then, “Nadine Bloody Smythe. Look, it’s in all of our interests to keep a lid on this. I want to help in your investigation and find out what happened to your brother, but it’s best done in a mannered fashion. Look where barging around, asking difficult questions has got you. You’ve almost been killed once, and your partner has had two attempts on his life.”

“You’re well informed. If only the officers of Blyham police were as interested in solving crimes as they are in protecting you.”

“I’m telling you, there’s a better way to do this.”

“Three men are dead. You can’t make this go away.”

“I know that, and I don’t want to. I just want the whole matter resolved as quietly and efficiently as possible. Which won’t happen if you allow Nadine Smythe to splash it all over her paper.”

The police must have been watching the house yesterday after all. Nadine’s visit seemed to have sent Soloman into some kind of panic.

“What are you suggesting?”

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