Max and the Prince (7 page)

Something snapped inside Max. Lucien really was isolated,
that much was clear. Weighed down with his secrets and now adding the threats
that hung over him, he was stressed. Max made a quick decision that went
against every instinct.

“We’re going to the party,” he announced.

Lucien looked shocked, but then that shock morphed into a smile.
“We are?”

“Why not? Seems to me that if you have a bodyguard, now may
be a good time to feel safe.”

“You think that having you makes me feel safe?”

Max shrugged. “I hope it does.”

Lucien placed a hand over his. Max didn’t move his hand at
all. He’d liked the last PDA too much not to try it again. “Yeah, it kind of
does. It’s what I was used to as a kid.”

“So, the meet.” Max pulled out his phone. “Have you competed
at this pool a lot of times?”

“Twice, maybe three. USW has pretty much the same setup as
us. They’re a good team. We’ll be pushed, but we generally come out on top.”

“Do you know some of the guys in the other team?”

“Only by reputation for some of the new team members, but the
rest are old hands and I’ve swum against them before.”

Max began to type a quick note to Ross. He wanted Ross to
know all the details. “And you’re in the 800 freestyle and the 4x400?”

“And first reserve on the 400 butterfly.”

With all the relevant information in the phone, Max pressed Send
and waited for confirmation that it had been sent. He knew he was being
overprotective. Up until this morning, he hadn’t even considered another team
being behind this simply because the likelihood of any of them being in
Lucien’s country was fairly minimal. But something about this morning’s note
had pushed his apprehension until it was impossible to ignore.

Instead of worrying, Max concentrated on the idea of Lucien
swimming in the butterfly. He’d seen him swim the butterfly at every swim practice,
a complicated physical stroke that had to be part of the reason Lucien had such
good muscle definition in his upper arms and chest. In fact, swimming had
sculpted something incredibly beautiful, add in the dark inscrutable eyes, and
Max was losing himself in fantasies he needed to shelve.

Even allowing himself to think on the good parts of Lucien’s
swimming left him feeling a little sick. Someone out there, in Cardiff, maybe
at this university, was watching Lucien and it was beginning to get out of
hand.

“I need to make a call. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He went outside into the street and closed the door behind
him. He hadn’t told Lucien about the latest note, but that didn’t mean he
wasn’t taking it very seriously.

Ross answered on the first ring. “Hey.”

“Ross, is there anyone who can do some observation at this
meet?”

Ross didn’t ask why, and by the sound of it, he was checking
his system. “I could get Ruby out, have her sit in the audience.”

Relief filled Max. He wanted a second set of eyes tonight,
and Ruby was a good person to have at his back.

“Thanks, Ross.”

“While I have you, Max, I finally pinned down what was
worrying me with Tommy.”

“The boy who left uni?”

“Turns out he didn’t leave of his own volition. He was encouraged
to leave, and guess how?”

Ross almost sounded gleeful that he could lay a puzzle at
Max’s feet.

“How?” He wasn’t in the mood to play.

“You’re no fun. Tommy said he received a letter saying it
was from Lucien’s family, suggesting he should remove himself from Lucien’s
vicinity as there was information that could be made public should he not
decide to leave voluntarily.”

“What kind of information?”

“That he had a father in prison on embezzling charges. Tommy
left, took up another place at York Uni, and in his words, tried not to take
the whole shitfest straight to Lucien.”

“Poor guy. You think the family did that?”

“I think the chance is that this might be connected to the
case. I’m following it through. I have a tech guy trying to chase down who may
have sent it so we know for sure.”

“Thanks, Ross.”

He went back in and he and Lucien ordered another drink
each. Sitting here people-watching was a calm interlude and bit by bit Lucien
was relaxing.

And there was no way that Max was ruining that by telling
him about Tommy.

Lucien stood in front of the mirror in his underwear with his
arms crossed over his chest and his lips pressed in a tight line. Every single
shirt he owned was on the bed, and this was just for the post-meet party. What
the hell would he be like for this stupid double date shit he had agreed to?
He’d only done it to wind Max up, but damn the man, he’d just turned around and
said okay. Then he’d held Lucien’s hand as they walked away, then again in the
coffee shop.

He was taking this fake boyfriend thing too far with the
touching and the smiling and the friendliness. Way too far considering Lucien’s
reaction to the wholly innocent touch. With a curse, Lucien relaxed his stance
and pulled the dark red T-shirt from the bed. This was the best of a bad lot.
At least it fitted nicely, hugging in all the right places, and it didn’t have
some stupid logo or slogan on it. He didn’t want to stand out for the wrong
reasons, hell, he didn’t want to stand out at all. Finally he hung it on a
hanger on the outside of the door. He needed to pack it because they were going
straight from the meet, but he would leave it until the last minute. Jeans were
easy. He only owned a few pairs and he packed his favorite ones into his bag.
Butter soft and worn, they hugged him like a second skin over his ass and he knew
he looked good in them. He’d had enough people tell him that, both other men
and girls who pinched his ass and told him he was cute.

Finally he packed his expensive shower gel and deodorant and
the T-shirt, which he laid as carefully as he could without it creasing.

“Ready?” Max asked from the door. Lucien twisted to face
him.

“Jeez, knock,” he snapped.

Max quirked an eyebrow and looked him up and down. “Transport
is picking us up at the pool in thirty, you know.”

“It only takes ten to walk there,” Lucien countered.

“I take it you’re going to wear clothes?” Max glanced over
at the bed, and Lucien nearly died on the spot. All his clothes were out,
strewn this way and that in untidy choice piles:
yes
s,
no
s, and
maybe
s.

“I’m having a clear out,” he defended. Lying was an easier
than facing the potential embarrassment of Max thinking he was worrying about
what the hell to wear to a party where everyone was going to be off their faces
with alcohol. Well, all except him and Max, he guessed.

“I’ll be downstairs,” Max said. He left, and to Lucien’s
relief, he pulled the door closed behind him. Lucien dressed quickly in
sweatpants and a sports tee and considered hanging up at least one or two of
his shirts before deciding he’d sort it before bed. A knock sounded on the door,
and he yanked it open, ready with a sarcastic reassurance that he was ‘coming the
fuck now’. Instead of Max, though, Jamie stood there.

“Hey,” Jamie said.

“Hey, what’s up?” Lucien picked up his clothes bag and swung
it over his shoulder, then grasped his swim bag.

“Do you have a fiver I can borrow?”

“Hang on.” Lucien opened his drawer and pulled out a note
from his small stash of fives and tens and passed it over. He closed the door
behind him, then he and Jamie went downstairs companionably.

“I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” Jamie said, then with the
quickest of hugs, he disappeared into the kitchen. Lucien didn’t have time to
worry that something seemed a little off with Jamie, and instead he and Max
left and walked fairly briskly to the pool and the waiting bus. The meet was
only a short ride away but Lucien was going to use the time to relax. He put in
his earbuds and the time until they arrived passed in a haze of him focusing on
relaxation techniques, none helped by the fact Max was pressed against him in
the small seats.

USW was a team they’d gone up against before, but it had
been a bad coming together last time, with the CU swim team being beaten in
virtually everything. Of course he’d missed that one, sick in bed with flu, and
Kev had sprained an ankle, so they were down their two strongest swimmers, and
that wasn’t false modesty. If there was one thing that life had taught him, it
was that he should be confident in his own abilities. He just hated that this
confidence didn’t extend to social situations.

Lucien realized he wasn’t relaxing at all and he cursed
inwardly. Sometimes he wished he could turn off his brain.

“Okay, guys, let’s do this thing,” Mickey announced as they
left the coach.

There was no time to spend on pep talks anymore as the other
team was there and they really needed to get a move on.

The first issue he had was the changing rooms.

“We’re sharing with USW,” Lucien said. He kept his voice
low. “There’s no lockers.”

Max leaned in. “Don’t make it obvious. Pack anything you
have in one bag and follow my cue.”

Only as Lucien forced everything in one bag did he realize that
his dark red tee was getting all wrinkled. He was losing it if life was
shitting on him and one wrinkled shirt made him tense up.
Great. I’m tense.
If this is the way today is going to go, then I am fucked.
He followed Max,
who took his bag with him and casually left it by the seats near the pool, not
hidden, but out in the open. Lucien did the same and hoped that was enough to keep
someone from pawing their way through his stuff.

The team gathered on their side of the pool, and Kev
indicated for everyone to have a seat. He had a clipboard, and he tapped it to
get everyone’s attention.

“Okay, Jen, you’re up against Marie Bellingham.” Lucien
heard Jen groan. Marie was good and very seldom lost. “Watch her on the turns.
If you can time those, you can pull a second. Mickey, you and Luke both drew middle
lanes in the 800 freestyle. Do me a favor and race the other team and not each
other.”

Lucien felt heat rise in his face. He and Mickey had swum
out so fast the time before last, they’d run out of energy, and USW had taken
them to the cleaners.

Lucien nodded and Mickey added a resounding
yeah
before they exchanged rueful glances.

“On the relay, I need you to watch for the exchange, and
that’s all of you, both women and men. Jen, you’re the strongest on the
crossover, I want you to take anchor.”

Lucien heard the muttering but didn’t disagree, Jen was a
strong swimmer, but she would have already done her main race and the women’s 4x400
was pretty much straight after.

“Luke, Billy has torn a tendon. I need you to take his place
in the butterfly.”

Lucien looked around in shock. He hadn’t even spotted that Billy
wasn’t there.

“Okay.”

Kev ticked the information on his list.

“That means I need you in the 400 medley, Max.”

“I’m… I… what?” Max spluttered next to Lucien.

“You’re Billy’s backup.”

“I thought I was seventh on the list.”

“On the butterfly,” Kev explained in a patient tone.

Lucien felt like laughing and crowing at the same time but
dismissed both immediately. He laid a hand on Max’s thigh and squeezed.

Max glanced at him with shock in his bright blue eyes.

“Okay,” Max finally agreed.

A whistle sounded and Lucien watched the girls form for the
first race. Kev went with them. Despite being a dick, he knew what he was
talking about. Once all attention was on the race, Lucien leaned into Max.

“Okay?” he teased.

“Fine,” Max said with a sigh.

“Where’s the…?” Lucien left the rest unspoken. Where was the
other person from the bodyguard company and what was she seeing?

Max nodded his head to indicate the seating opposite, but
Lucien couldn’t see anyone specific in among the general crowd of swim fans and
dedicated family. He supposed that was a good thing. A bodyguard didn’t necessarily
have to stand out.

“You’re probably better off not doing that,” Max said in his
ear.

Lucien frowned. “What?” He leaned closer and placed his hand
on Max’s thigh, as the noise in the place increased in line with the race drawing
to a close.

“That.” Max indicated Lucien’s hand and the evidence of
arousal in Max’s swim trunks. He’d hidden it with a towel, but Lucien could see
from this angle. He put two and two together and removed his hand like it was
on hot bricks. Max quirked a smile, a soft, sexy, quiet smile, then shifted in
his seat to face the competition.

Had Lucien done that? Had his touch on Max’s thigh turned
Max on? Or was it a warning that something had happened to turn Max on and Max
didn’t want Lucien’s hand near him or to see it? Heat rushed through him. The
instant that desire slammed into him, he knew he was screwed. With a muttered
curse, he covered his own lap with a towel. He had maybe ten minutes until his
first race and this was not going well.

Max was called up first for the medley relay, and Lucien
refused to look at his retreating back; only Max was cute and firm and hard and
soft and all the confusing shit that could only mean one thing.

Desire.

“Did you see?” Mickey said as he slumped into the chair next
to Lucien.

Lucien searched for the right answer. “You rocked,” he
offered.

“I came third,” Mickey said. Now Lucien could hear the
thread of misery in the other man’s voice.

“But it was a strong third.” Hell he hadn’t even been
watching, he’d been thinking of anything he could to get rid of his damn
erection. “Sorry, I need to…” He stood abruptly and moved closer to the start
in readiness for his next race. He was early and he’d been distracted, and he
could almost feel Mickey’s bemused gaze burning into his back.

And now he was here way too close to the start of Max’s race,
and he got up close and personal to the man. The first swimmer dived in at the
whistle and CU pulled ahead as Kev set a good pace. The changeover was slick,
the second in the team clean into the water, and time slowed so Lucien could just
watch Max. The tension in his muscles, the readiness in his taut, tight figure,
the soft bounce of his knees, the way a tuft of his blond hair poked out from
under his swim cap. He was probably so pissed that he was even swimming today,
his big bad bodyguard desire to protect undermined by Billy’s pesky torn tendon.

In his head Lucien counted the strokes as the second in this
four-man team came closer. When the second man touched the side of the pool,
Max entered the water with barely a splash, diving and traveling the longest
way under water before coming to the surface and settling into a strong breaststroke.
Max wasn’t the fastest, but he was strong and determined, and as a team, they brought
home the win.

Lucien only hoped he’d do the same in his own race. And he
thanked the heavens he was close by when Max removed his cap then lifted
himself out of the pool. The sight of that blond hair and the water and the
slim strong body was enough to drive Lucien mad, but there was no way he wanted
to miss it.

Max grinned at him, pushing hands through his hair, then
standing by Lucien’s side. “That was a rush.”

Lucien had no idea what to say to that. Max turned away as
Kev came over to congratulate him and Lucien was faced with Max’s taut back and
tight ass. He spotted the faint scar that ran alongside Max’s spine and
resolved to ask the bodyguard what that was, although he assumed Max had got it
when his plane went down. To think, Max might not have been standing here. The
idea of never meeting Max filled Lucien with sadness and he realized he was
focusing on grief when he should be enjoying a smiling Max who was very
definitely
here
.

Then Max turned to face him again and gifted Lucien with a
soft smile. A knowing smile.

And there it went again. Time for Lucien to grab his towel
and hide his burgeoning erection…

“You’re up next,” Kev said next to him. That was enough of a
shock to get Lucien out of his sex-and-kissing head space. He’d stared for so
long he’d missed the women’s race. He’d probably been standing there with a
dumbass expression on his face. So much for self-respect.

He placed second in the 800 freestyle and the team won the 4x400
relay so he was on a high when it came to his turn in the butterfly.

Kev called him over. “Just lay low on this one, okay? Don’t
push too much. You’re up against two of their best, and we never expected the
win.”

Lucien nodded his understanding, but as he rolled his
shoulders he probably had a light in his eyes that spoke of a need to win,
which was exactly what he was thinking.

“I mean it,” Kev said. He was using that tone, the one he
used to remonstrate with the team when they didn’t listen to him. “Are you
listening to me?” He poked Lucien in the chest and Lucien startled and took a
step back. Kev was way past serious.

“I promise.”

“Look how easily Billy damaged his tendon at the last meet.
He’s going to be out weeks. Watch yourself.”

Lucien pressed a hand to his chest where Kev had poked him
and pasted a teasing smile on his face. “I will.”

He took his place at the starting blocks and counted down
the time by focusing inward to visualize the race. At this moment when all
around him were talking and walking and waiting, he was focusing on the race,
on the smooth movements, on the way he would cut through the water, on the
muscles that would ache after. The other participants joined him at the starting
blocks, and for a tense second, they were suspended in waiting. Then with the
whistle, they were away, the dive into the cold water, holding breath,
breathing out, surfacing and cursing inwardly as he saw in his peripheral
vision that all three others he was against were just that small bit ahead.

Another burst and he was leveling, his muscles burning, his
lungs aching, and abruptly determination was there, that sudden brutal shove of
focus, edged with the stupid but pressing need to show Max what he was made of.
It was enough to pull him ahead of two of the other three swimmers. When he
touched tile on the turn, he was second. There was no way he’d catch first, but
he was so close to keeping a reasonable second place.