Max and the Prince (4 page)

“Because you’re not actually gay,” Lucien said.

“No, I’m gay, I just don’t like pushing the boundaries if I
don’t have to.”

Lucien’s eyebrows climbed so high they nearly disappeared
under the hair falling on his forehead. “Wow, I thought it would be a real
hardship for you, hell, my gaydar is completely nonfunctioning.”

Max shrugged and checked his watch. “We need to eat. What time
do we have to be at the pool?”

“It’s open until ten. I get there at about half eight when a
lot of people have left.”

“So how long after we eat do we swim?”

Lucien frowned. “I eat, then I walk, then I swim.” He even
added in the motions of eating, walking, and swimming.

“I meant, how long do you need to wait after eating before
swimming?” Max recalled the old adage “Never swim on a full stomach,” but from
the way Lucien was looking at him, maybe that was an old wives’ tale.

Lucien brightened. “Oh right. We’ll be fine by the time we
get there.”

Max decided to change the conversation, bright happy Lucien
was way too distracting. He coughed to clear his throat.

“Did you include the staff at the pool on the list of
suspects?” It was Max’s job to ask, he just wished he could do something about
the sudden look of disappointment on Lucien’s face.

“Should I have done? They all seem like nice people.”

Max nodded. “Everyone. Write it down and I’ll send it to
Ross.”

“Okay, I’ll do something to eat. Pasta okay?”

“You cook?” Max couldn’t help the question; the fact that a prince
cooked surprised him, although why he didn’t know.

Lucien stopped on the third step from the top and rounded on
Max. He looked pissed. “Is that a comment about my title or the fact I’m a
student?”

Max considered his answer carefully. Lucien obviously put
store in the fact he did things maybe a normal stereotypical prince didn’t do.
Smoothly, he said, “Everyone knows students don’t cook.”

His answer appeared to be the right one, a small smile on
Lucien’s face showing he liked the comment.

“I cook. Tomato sauce with onions and pasta. Pasta is good
for you.”

Max followed him down the stairs. “What else do you cook?”

Lucien chuckled. “Pasta is pretty much my entire repertoire.
Although sometimes I mix it up by adding chicken.”

This teasing side of Lucien was kind of nice, replacing the
fear and concern and the big chip he had on his shoulder about the whole prince
thing.

“I like chicken.” And yes, that was lame, but it was enough
to get another of Lucien’s smiles thrown his way.

And they really were lovely smiles.

The walk to the leisure center was bracing, the icy January
wind cutting through Lucien’s jacket and freezing his hands. He pushed them
deeper into his pockets and shrugged his shoulder when his sports bag slipped a
little.

“I can’t believe you swim in this weather,” Max muttered
next to him. His breath puffed white in the cold air, and he was buried in his
coat. He’d taken the position between Lucien and the road, but he didn’t look
twitchy or like he was looking around all the time. Was this how a bodyguard
worked? Lucien had only ever known Teddy, and he was pretty much the in-your-face
big man who dared you to try anything.

“It’s indoors,” Lucien said as helpfully as he could.

Max sent him that look that spoke volumes, one that said,
I
know that
. “Something I should know before we get there.”

“What?”

“Are you fully out at university? I know you mentioned that
people know, but…”

Lucien glanced at Max. He hadn’t expected that question
because he thought they’d already covered it. “Yes. When it all went horribly
wrong back home, my family managed my coming out with the correct announcements
and I spent time just licking my wounds. I didn’t need to justify anything here.
I just arrived Luke Magrello, gay, weird accent, kinda quiet and shy.”

Lucien opened the door to the center and the rush of warm
air on his face was welcome. Their arrival meant Lucien didn’t have time to ask
if Max was out and proud as well. Good thing, too, because that could have led
to all kinds of things in his head that he really needed to keep a lid on. Like
attraction. Lust. He didn’t have a type, not really, not tall men or shorter
men or average-sized men, not brunets or blonds, but something about Max was
attractive. Lucien had to face it, all he wanted, all he craved was affection
and something solid and real.

Not going to get that with a man who is nothing more than
a temporary addition to my life.

He walked past reception and led Max up the stairs to the
changing area, rows and rows of cubicles and a corridor that ran from them to a
room marked Team. The rest of the team wouldn’t be here  until nearer nine, but
he always got in early just to spend time in the water, mostly floating on his
back in the empty Olympic-size pool and contemplating life. A group of kids ran
past them, the flick of water from wet hair reaching bare skin, and he laughed
as Max tensed.

“You’ll get wetter in the pool,” he said.

Max grimaced and brushed the water from his hands onto his
jeans. “I don’t like surprises,” he explained.

Lucien’s good mood subsided. Of course. Max was on edge
watching and waiting for whatever madman—or woman—threatened Lucien. Lucien punched
in the code to enter and the door opened for them to go in.

“So when the door shuts, it locks,” Max asked, “and you’d
need a code to get in?”

“Yep.”

“And what about the kids? Do we have them in the same pool
as us? With parents?”

“No, they have the fun side. The main events pool is
separate and shut to everyone but teams this late at night. The last group to use
it is some aqua aerobics session and that finished an hour ago. The people that
go to that use the main changing rooms.”

Max nodded and did a quick walk around the team changing
area: a few cubicles, a wall of lockers, a stand of showers, and benches with
hooks. Not much to see. Finally seeming happy, he came back to stand next to
Lucien and pulled off his coat before hanging it up. Then came the T-shirt,
pulled up and over his head along with the red sweatshirt, and for the first
time Lucien got a look at Max’s chest. He had a faint amount of lightish hair
that slightly darkened his chest and nipples, but nothing much to write home
about. He was well-muscled for a small guy, and each muscle was hard and
defined. High on his left pec was a small scar, a line that ran for about an
inch, and unbidden Lucien reached to touch the mark. When he realized what he
was doing, he dropped his hand and hoped to hell Max hadn’t noticed. Before Max
could say a word, Lucien turned his back and began to undress.

He’d done this before, changed in front of the guys, but he
was irrationally pleased when he saw Max turn away from him to finish getting
changed. Back to back, Lucien could pretend he wasn’t aware of how good Max
looked.

Finally changed, he grabbed his towel and zipped his bag before
stepping back.

“Wait,” Max said abruptly. “Do you just leave your bag out
like this?”

“Yeah?” Lucien was puzzled by the horror on Max’s face.

“And your phone is in there? Your wallet?”

“I… The room is locked.”

Max pressed his lips in a straight line. “No, from tonight
everything of yours goes in a locker.” He fished in his jeans and pulled out
two coins, then grabbed his stuff and pushed it into the first locker. Coin in,
he closed the door, then tried it to make sure it was locked. “Now you.”

Lucien eyed his bag. His first instinct was to say that he’d
never needed a locker before, but then that made a mockery of what he was
doing. Why agree to a bodyguard 24/7 if he wasn’t going to listen to Max? He
wasn’t stupid—dead clients were surely the ones who didn’t listen to their
bodyguards. Instead, he scooped up everything and placed it in the next locker down,
taking the coin Max held in his hand he then locked his belongings away.

He wasn’t staring when Max leaned down to check that it was
secure. Well, he was, but he wouldn’t admit it to anyone just how gorgeous Max
was near naked. Yes, he had his tight Speedos, but they showed more than they hid.
They were low on his ass, the swell of the top of his cheeks just visible above
and the material taut across muscles. And his thighs…

I wonder if he’s a top, because I’d really like—Fuck,
stop thinking shit like that.

“Are you okay?” Max asked. Lucien blushed and coughed to
hide his embarrassment. Was Max smirking? Or hell, outright laughing? No, Max
was looking at him with a blank expression on his face.

“Fine. Come on, let’s go.”

“Where’s everyone else?”

“They’ll be here in a bit. It’s just me in the pool at the
moment, so do your thing and I can see what we have to work with.”

“I do okay,” Max said with a shrug.

They walked through the showers and out to the wide Olympic-length
pool. This was a nice place, always clean, quiet when Lucien needed it to be,
and the scent of chlorine was reassuringly the same as home. The place was
empty apart from a couple of lifeguards standing by the hoist. They were
talking and looked over to see who had come in but looked away again when they
saw it was one of the club guys.

“They here all night?” Max asked.

“Rules,” Lucien said.

“Okay, so now what?”

Lucien felt worries and concerns slip away as he stretched
out, then stood poised at the deep end. “Now we see if you can swim.”

Max glanced at him. “Go,” he called and executed a perfect
dive into the water before surfacing a little way ahead with strong steady
crawl strokes.

Lucien followed him in, the weight of the water over his
head flicking a switch. His dive was better, his glide longer, his strokes more
even and controlled, and he caught Max near the other end. They reached it at
the same time, Max treading water and looking at Lucien.

Self-conscious, Lucien pushed his long dark hair off his
face. “You’re good,” he said. “A little erratic on the breathing, but we can
work on that.”

Max ducked under water and tilted his head so the water
slicked his hair as he bobbed back up. “I’m not going on your team,” he said.

“I know.” The need to put a smile on Max’s serious face had
him wanting to tease. “You’re not good enough for the team. Way too short.”

In a smooth move, Max jumped up and pressed on Lucien’s
shoulders until he was under water, then let him go so he bobbed up like a
cork. “Fucker,” he said with a snort of laughter. He laid on his back and
floated away from Lucien, and Lucien copied him, staring up at the glass and
concrete ceiling and the reflection of the water in the glass. Sometime he
could see himself reflected, lying flat and sculling with small movements of
his hands, other times he was looking at the reflection of Max. He couldn’t
help himself.

Max was gorgeous, cute, sweet, sexy, hot, and was also some
dangerous bodyguard.

Lucien didn’t stand a chance.

It didn’t get any better when the team arrived. Fifteen
students milled around and warmed up before all being called over to one point,
where the captain, Kev Milsen, was talking strategy. No one called Max on being
there at first. In fact, Lucien wasn’t even sure anyone had noticed him. Then Kev
blew that out of the water.

“New recruit, Luke?”

Lucien startled, then called on years of training in sticky
social situations. “Hey, everyone, this is Max.”

A chorus of
hey
s and
hi
s, and as quickly as
that, Max was seen, vetted, and sorted.

They worked on diving, they worked on sprinting, Kev decided
that relay was where it was at, but instead of lengths, it was intense widths
where there wasn’t much resting. Max stayed on the sideline and didn’t charm
himself into being part of the team. That was fine with Lucien at first, until
he realized Max was more of a distraction sitting on the edge of the pool than
he was hidden under the water.

At half time they took a break, and Lucien pushed himself up
and onto the side of the pool, shoving back his wet hair and grabbing his
towel.

“Hey, Luke,” one of the team called. Lucien turned. Kev and
Mickey were coming his way. He groaned internally. He had to show respect to Kev
since he was captain of the swim team, and yeah, he was a good swimmer, but he
was also an ass. And a little bit too touchy-feely for Lucien’s peace of mind. Kev
was always asking for dates with Lucien, inevitably while standing right in
front of Mickey who plainly adored Kev. Mickey appeared to roll with it, but
Lucien tried to avoid any alone time with Kev, or both Kev and Mickey together.

The two were forever trying to get him to go out with the
team, but the latest idea, an eighties-themed night at the local bar, was just
another idea of hell for Lucien.

“Hey,” he responded.

“A week Friday for the pub, yeah?” Mickey said with a smirk.
He was just as bad as Kev, always teasing and trying to get Lucien in on the
social side of the team. It was Kev who talked about team building, but Mickey
who talked about how many times he was sick on a weekend from overindulging in beer.

“I’ll try to make it,” Lucien said. “I have two assignments—”

Kev stepped way too close and placed a hand on his arm. “You
should come as my date,” he said in a low voice so no one else in the team, all
of whom were chatting on the opposite side of the pool, would hear.

“I can’t.”
Why can’t I?
he asked himself. He’d kind
of run out of excuses to avoid the various social events—and by extension, Kev.
Kev was a bit of a dick and Lucien wouldn’t date him if he was the last gay man
on earth.

Kev shook his head. “Lucien—”

“He can’t,” a voice said at his side even as an arm
insinuated itself around his waist. Lucien almost sagged in relief. Max. “Not
without me,” Max added.

Kev glanced at where Max had his arm around Lucien and his
eyes narrowed. “What is this?” he said. He sounded shocked and looked it as
well, but Lucien saw that Mickey had a beaming smile.

Lucien opened his mouth to answer, but Max got there first.
“Been together a while now,” he said. He added punctuation to the sentence by
squeezing Lucien’s hip and leaning into him.

“Then you’ll both come?” Mickey asked. He appeared to be
oblivious to the Kev/Max showdown and was still smiling.

“Maybe,” Max said. With a tug, he pulled Lucien away and
began to walk around the pool to the other side and the rest of the team.

“What did you do that for?” Lucien hissed. “We never actually
agreed on the boyfriend thing.”

Max shook his head. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.
Your body language screamed help, and that’s what I do.”

“Yeah, between me and knife or a car or a bullet, but… hell…”
Lucien didn’t know why he was even angry. It had been BI’s idea to install Max
as a boyfriend, but he’d been relieved when Max hadn’t immediately agreed to
the solution. And suddenly here Max was holding him like he was a possession and
it felt…

Shit.
It felt good. It felt more than good.
I knew
this might happen
,
so why am I angry?

They reached the rest of the group and were soon caught up
with the last stage of the training session, but Lucien was determined not to
forget this. Nope. Not at all.

Just wait until we get home.