Lustful Gaze (London Loves #6) (16 page)

Scott sat in the front passenger seat of Paul’s BMW, feeling tranquil and invigorated. The heat of the sun warmed his skin deliciously as they drove through London with the top rolled down, on the way to Harry’s party. Scott glanced over at his handsome husband, who always looked so suave in a suit. Paul grinned – he knew Scott was checking him out, but he kept his eyes on the road ahead. Scott reached out and flipped down the sun visor in front of him, to check his eyeliner in the mirror. He caught a glimpse of Edward in the backseat, resting his arms on the door, and enjoying the breeze – which tousled his hair as they drove. 

Scott was looking forward to finding out what a lavish Indian party was going to be like. He’d asked Harry for guidance on his attire, and Harry had encouraged him to wear Indian clothes, knowing how much Scott loved to dress up. Scott adored his peach satin tunic, which sported a mandarin collar and matching gold pants. It was comfy, yet stylish. And Edward looked dapper in his trousers and shirt – even though he seemed a little forlorn today. Scott knew he was frustrated with the way Harry was being treated by his family, but he trusted Edward not to make a scene.

Paul followed the satnav’s instructions and steered the car into Harry’s parents’ street. Scott gasped as he saw that the narrow road was crammed with Mercs and Jags – making even Paul’s BMW look cheap. They all climbed out of the car and stared at Harry’s parents’ house. It was spectacular. There were only four houses in this entire street, and the Sawhney residence was the grandest. When Paul had been nosing online earlier, he’d discovered that the house had been bought for seventeen
million
. Maida Vale was an expensive area anyway, but this was one of the most extravagant homes Scott had ever seen. The house was a sprawling three-storey red brick building, which had been built in the nineteen-twenties. It was magnificent, with two garages, a landscaped garden, and a long winding driveway.

Edward squinted across the grounds at a smaller detached building. “Why’s there a separate house over there?”

“I think that’s where the servants live,” Scott said. 

“Very funny,” Edward said. 

“I’m serious. I really think it’s the servants’ quarters. I mean, if you could afford a place like this, you probably wouldn’t do your own ironing, would you?”

Edward threw Paul a playful glance. “Paul would.”

“Ha ha.” Paul draped his arm around Edward’s shoulders. “You’re gonna behave yourself today, aren’t you? You’re not planning to spill the beans?”

“Of course not. I hate what Harry’s parents are doing, but I promised I’d let him tell them in his own time. Hopefully that’ll be
before
he gets married.”

“Yeah, well, he’s got three years and a lot of fun at university before that.”

“I know.”

They rang the doorbell and a butler answered, dressed in an immaculate black suit. He pressed his palms together and bowed. “Hello and be welcome in the Sawhney household!”

Scott smiled. He was slowly getting used to these sorts of people, thanks to his time at the art gallery. But sometimes it shocked him how the other half lived. Paul was always happy to mingle with the wealthy, but Edward was probably feeling uncomfortable with all this opulence.

They stepped into a huge hallway, and Scott paused to take it all in. The shiny wooden floor swept grandly ahead of them, and the lofty white walls were covered with expensive paintings. But Scott wasn’t able to enjoy Mr Sawhney’s art collection, because the butler strode ahead, beckoning them to follow through a glass archway to another part of the hallway, where a chandelier hung from above and oak doors led to rooms on all sides.

Scott saw several rich Indian people through here – standing around and chatting, dressed in their finest and ignoring the staff who were offering them drinks and nibbles. Everything was so white and plush. Scott couldn’t get his head around the scale of this place. The butler led them through to another room – with a glass roof and huge squashy sofas – then, finally, he threw open the lavish back doors to reveal a massive garden.

Scott stepped out into the garden. Or rather, he stepped out into a marquee of blue and purple chiffon – which had been erected against the exterior wall of the house, forming an enchanted tent-like entrance to this mystical, magical place. The smell of jasmine struck Scott and he realised there was a huge bunch of the stuff hanging like a chandelier from the top of the marquee.

“Holy shit,” Edward said. “Nice pad.”

Paul chuckled and winked at Scott. Scott smiled, feeling glad he’d come.

The butler had ambled off now, so Scott assumed they were expected to find Harry and his dad by themselves. Scott scanned his gaze over hundreds of guests dotted around the lush garden – mingling and catching up on the family gossip. The men looked like Indian princes, and the women were goddesses, dressed stunningly in their brightly coloured saris and salwar kameez suits. The array of pinks, reds, and yellows looked radiant against the backdrop of the blue sky and green grass.

Edward strode ahead and emerged from the marquee first. Scott and Paul followed. Scott’s eyes didn’t know what to look at – there was so much colour and activity. Edward halted in front of a wooden stage where four Indian musicians were playing traditional instruments, and he ran his hand across one of the decorative beaded curtains hanging down at the side of the stage. Scott realised that the hundreds of beads were actually fresh marigolds.

“This place is amazing,” Paul said.

“Hey, look,” Scott said. “There’s Harry and his parents.”

“Oh yeah,” Paul said. “Hm, looks like they’re having a heated discussion. Maybe we should hang back a bit.”

Scott squinted. Harry and his dad were indeed talking animatedly. Scott saw that there was a woman with them, too, who was obviously Mrs Sawhney. She seemed sophisticated and attractive – it was clear where Harry got his looks from. Her hair was neatly tied back in a bun, and she was wearing a green jewelled sari, which was pleated perfectly at the front, in a way that Paul would’ve loved to have got his trousers. Her face was stern and serious at the moment, and she seemed to be scolding her son. Mr Sawhney had his back to Scott, but it was unmistakeably him. Scott prayed their argument had nothing to do with Edward.

Edward had also spotted Harry and was now making his way over.

“We’d better go, too,” Paul said, cringing.

They halted far enough away to be able to hear what was being said. There were some Hindi words being bandied about, but they were mainly speaking in English.

“I didn’t agree to this!” Harry whined.

“Yes you did,” Mr Sawhney said. “If you want to go to Brighton, you must at least get engaged now so we don’t lose this woman.”

“Lose her? Papa, she’s not a painting; you don’t put down a deposit!”

“I already have. A small deposit. So you behave.”

Harry glared down at the bright green grass. Mr Sawhney transferred his attention to his wife. “
You
tell him.”

She grabbed her son by the arm. “Come, Harry. Let’s say hello to the Chopra family. We must be polite.”

Harry’s mother pushed him firmly. His insolent face shone with embarrassed anger, but he did as he was told. Scott wasn’t sure whether he’d even noticed that Paul, Edward, and him were here. Scott desperately wanted to speak to him, but he was already being led away.

Mr Sawhney watched him with a look of despair. Then he turned and noticed Scott for the first time. His irritation morphed to a warm smile. “Scott, how delightful to see you! I’m so sorry for this disruption. You know how disobedient this boy can be at times.”

Scott shook Mr Sawhney’s proffered hand. “He always seems polite and well-mannered to me.”

“Yes, well, we probably have different standards. Now, who is this? Your partner?”

“Er, yeah,” Scott said. “This is my husband, Paul.”

They shook hands. Mr Sawhney seemed distracted, as if his mind was still with Harry. “Hello, Paul. Please be welcome in my home.”

“Thank you, Mr Sawhney.”

A couple of women standing nearby stepped over and started to talk to Paul. Scott grinned as Paul launched into flirt mode. He was always getting himself in trouble with women when he flirted too much and they fell for him. But it didn’t really matter today, did it? The women were probably married, too.

Mr Sawhney took a step away, but Scott realised he hadn’t introduced Edward – who was probably feeling snubbed after what had just happened.

Scott called after him. “And this is Harry’s friend, Edward.”

Realising his manners, Mr Sawhney turned back and absent-mindedly thrust his hand out for Edward. Scott opened his mouth to explain that Edward was Paul’s apprentice. But a sense of dread crept over him as Mr Sawhney looked at Edward properly and jolted in shock.

“You?” Mr Sawhney whispered.

Scott saw that Edward was staring at Mr Sawhney as if he’d seen a mass murderer. “Yes, me.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m Harry’s
friend
.”

Scott’s heart thumped with worry. “What’s wrong, Edward? Do you know Mr Sawhney?”

“I do. Intimately, in fact. He was my first client. We struck up quite a relationship over those few weeks, didn’t we? After you’d convinced me to give it up for you.”

Mr Sawhney’s eyes welled with anger. He shoved Edward in the chest, making him stumble. “You leave here now.”

“Hey, get your fucking hands off!”

Scott stepped between them. “Stop it! Let’s go somewhere and talk, okay?”

Edward glared at Scott as if this was somehow his fault. Then he nodded slowly.

Mr Sawhney strode robot-like towards the house and they followed. He led them to a plush reception room, which looked as if it was used rarely, but it was kept immaculate nonetheless. It was eerily silent in here and Scott suddenly felt anxious. Mr Sawhney might be a master criminal with body guards and hit-men lurking, waiting to take out unsuspecting homosexuals.

Scott snapped himself out of it – but he double-checked that his phone was in his pocket, just in case. He sat down with Edward on one of the huge cream sofas, trying to control his shaking knees. Poor Edward looked angry and deflated. Mr Sawhney sat on the opposite sofa, draping his arm across it possessively. Scott knew that by sitting next to Edward
his
actions spoke volumes about whose side he was on, but the poor kid looked as if he’d been punched in the face.

Mr Sawhney lounged back, seeming to take up all the space. He rested his foot on his opposite thigh and jiggled it. Somehow he reminded Scott of an arms dealer – not that he’d ever met one.

Mr Sawhney remained super-cool. “Listen, I’ll give you money to go away. I don’t want you in my son’s life. Especially not with what you do for money. It’s disgusting.”

Scott opened his mouth to mediate, but Edward got in there first.

“Oh, so you don’t mind me sucking
your
cock, but you don’t want it for Harry – is that it?”

“I don’t care what he does, as long as he’s discreet. Bringing you here, that’s not discreet. Big mistake. Especially not at his engagement party.”

Edward’s jaw dropped. “Engagement party? He said this gathering was to celebrate him going off to university.”

Mr Sawhney shrugged. “It’s whatever we choose it to be. But you’re not welcome.”

Scott leaned forward, hoping to appeal. “Look, Mr Sawhney, these two young men, they really like each other, and –”

“No! There’s no ‘really liking each other’ allowed between young men in this household. And you, Scott, I recommend you keep quiet about this if you want to continue with your job at the art gallery. I’ll get you fired.”

This threat thumped Scott hard. He started to argue, but Mr Sawhney talked over him, turning his anger on Edward. “What kind of life can you give my son, huh? You’ll soon grow bored of each other and this will all be forgotten.”

“Oh, like you grew bored of
me
?”

“Stop this. What happened between you and me has nothing to do with anything. This is about family honour – something you’d know nothing about.”

“Family
honour
? I assume your wife doesn’t know you’ve been fucking teenage boys behind her back?”

Mr Sawhney’s expression surged to worry. “You told me you were twenty.”

“I’m nineteen. One year older than your son. How does that make you feel?”

Mr Sawhney’s expression didn’t flicker. His silence was stifling.

Edward leaned forward, making the leather sofa creak. “Why do people always make prostitutes feel bad, but not the sleazy men like you, who think you can buy our souls with your dirty money? How about making
you
feel bad for a while?”

“I was simply following my natural urges. One man can’t give himself to one woman forever.”

Scott interjected. “I’ve never been unfaithful to Paul.”

“So
you
say.”

Scott inhaled to defend himself, but Edward stood up suddenly. “How about you release Harry from this sham engagement, or
I’ll
tell everyone about what you and I did together?”