Sparks Fly

Published by Dreamspinner Press 4760 Preston Road Suite 244-149 Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Sparks Fly Copyright 2008 by Clare London Cover Design by Mara McKennen This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ Released in the United States of America August, 2008 eBook edition available in Adobe PDF, MobiPocket and MS Reader formats. eBook ISBN: 978-1-935192-04-6

~to all the friends who have read and supported me~

Sparks Fly

“AND this morning’s guest on your favorite breakfast TV program, ladies and gentlemen, is the successful and – dare I say it! – very eligible entrepreneur, Nic Gerrard!” The ripple of excitement reached even behind the cameras, and the entire makeup department was peering from one or the other side of the studio. The host of the Morning Glory chat show crossed her legs, tugged at her inappropriately short skirt, and turned icy blue eyes to the man seated beside her on the comfortable armchairs. “Welcome to ‘Morning Glory’, Mr. Gerrard – may I call you Nic? A meteoric rise to fame and fortune in the last two years, they say. You have masterminded the launch of not just one, but three or four very diverse ventures. All of which have been extremely successful! Most of our business commentators attribute this to a combination of astute decision making and great personal charm. Do you agree with this assessment?” The man opposite her actually looked less than comfortable. He was laid back in the chair, but appeared almost too long for it, his legs crossed and folded to the side. He was young, in his early twenties, and eye-catchingly attractive. He didn’t have the classic movie star looks of the guest who’d preceded him, but there was something about his whole expression that oozed charisma – striking, midnight-blue eyes and a generous mouth that always seemed on the verge of 1

Clare London laughter. His thick, chestnut brown hair flopped artlessly on his forehead, the studio lights catching the copper highlights in it, and he pushed it back occasionally in an affectionate gesture. He looked as approachable as the guy next door you’d always had a crush on, yet he also exuded a confidence and an assertiveness that obviously commanded respect in the commercial world. This morning, he was smartly dressed in a dark-colored designer suit, but there was something unusually stylish about the way the jacket clung to his broad shoulders; about the way the trousers rested just a little too low on his hips. He’d obviously had it altered for his particular preference and it looked superb. He wore no tie, just a crisp white silk shirt open to just below his throat, the skin beneath showing a warm, golden tan. At the interviewer’s question, he shifted himself to sit more upright, his feet planted firmly on the studio floor and clad in unexpected – yet very elegant – cowboy boots. A rather rueful grin spread over his handsome face. One of the makeup girls sighed helplessly in the background. “Come on, Amanda, if I listened to those commentators too often, I doubt I’d recognize myself in the mirror each morning! I’d say it’s just hard work, a couple of good ideas, and a hell of a lot of luck. Plenty of other guys in the same position.” He had a pleasant, softly-accented West Coast voice, with a hint of self-deprecation in his words. The interviewer, Amanda Bradnam, simpered for the cameras, and her eyes ran quickly up and down his tall, athletic frame. She was no fool – she knew this guy was smarter than she’d ever be. He was being modest, and must know it, surely. She and her producer had fought for months to get him on the show; to try to find a slot that his busy schedule would allow. “I’m not so sure about that!” she laughed, rather too brightly. “And, of course, our introduction referred to your eligibility – not only because you are, as far as we know, unattached, but also because this month is the launch on the stock market of your most famous company. The dating agency, Sparks. What gave you the interest in this business to start with? It’s an unusual one, isn’t it, compared to your other commercial work in electronics?” 2

Sparks Fly “Yes, I suppose so,” Nic shrugged. “But that’s only with hindsight.” Really, he found these interviews so damned embarrassing, but his Promotions team insisted he do them periodically. “Sparks was my first, you see. It wasn’t my idea initially, though. It was a friend’s venture, and he couldn’t keep it on, so I offered to buy it off him. I thought there was some mileage in it. I redesigned it, and re-launched as…” “... Sparks, I know. And it’s gone from strength to amazing strength, in a cut-throat market of many such agencies, all competing for clients. What makes yours so different?” Nic recovered enthusiasm, talking about his happiest acquisition. “I wasn’t impressed with the very broad, unimaginative questions that most agencies ask their clients, to try to establish a suitable profile for them. I had some guys develop a different template. I reckoned my clients would rather wait a little longer, and put in a little more work themselves, for the sake of one or two less suggestions – but ones which matched far more closely what they wanted.” “And they seem to love it, wouldn’t you say?” “Many do, yes. But they have to be honest with me. It’s critical to me that there are no lies; the whole thing hinges on it. There’s no point in a relationship based on lies right from the start, is there?” Amanda caught his eyes on her, suddenly rather sharp. She tensed, but the camera didn’t pick up anything amiss. She rushed on. “So, you developed this new people matching system –” “Not me,” he broke in, gently but firmly. “I’m no computer genius.” “You rely a lot on your IT department?” “I guess I have to. The whole principle is initially a database management issue, isn’t it? We gather what we can about the client, then it’s compared against the other clients on file. I’d be lost without the technical staff to do that, same as in most businesses. All credit must go to them. I just have the idea; they deliver it.”

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Clare London “I think it’s a little more than that, Mr. Gerrard, isn’t it? Don’t you interview your potential clients personally?” Nic raised an eyebrow. That hadn’t been on the pre-production list of questions. Where was she taking this interview? “Well, yes, I used to. In the early days, though now my timetable doesn’t really allow for it. But my managers have maintained that role, instead. The bulk of the matching work is done behind the scenes, but I still think there’s scope for some final assessment – a personal touch. That’s the one thing that can’t be programmed.” “That’s very admirable,” murmured Amanda. Her producer was waving his arms behind the camera; there were only seconds left in the segment. “And I suspect that’s what makes you so very successful, compared to others. Just one last question, Nic, if I may –” Here it comes, he thought to himself. leading up to this for the last ten minutes.

He knew she’d been

“Anyone special in your life at the moment?” “No, Amanda, not that I’d necessarily be broadcasting it on national TV if there were!” They both smiled – politely – at his gentle jibe. The makeup girl in the wings smoothed her hair, with more hope than expectation. “We’ve seen you out on the town with many companions in the last year or so – many in number, many in type.” Amanda’s lip curled in a slight sneer. “Perhaps you might use your own agency, eh? To find that someone special?” There was an awkward second of silence, and some nervous laughter from the crew. The man opposite her stared back steadily, and she shivered slightly. Nic Gerrard was in the public eye, and that included his social life. He had to know that, and well. He was fair game. But for a second, she panicked, wondering if she’d gone too far in the name of journalism and – if she admitted it – a rather personal interest. And then Nic smiled. The smile was broad and attractive, and well recognized in the media – after all, it would be on Time 4

Sparks Fly Magazine’s cover again that very month. “You’re not the first to suggest that, Amanda.” His voice was smooth and totally controlled. “And perhaps – one day – I will.”

NIC nodded to the doorman and took the lift up to his hotel suite. It had been a very long day. That tedious TV interview, then endless meetings with his accountants, ready for the stock market launch, and finally a very mediocre supper with an investment banker who gave the accountants a good run for their money in the Mind-NumbinglyBoring Stakes. Nic had executives to handle his businesses, sure, but he’d wanted to oversee this one personally. He had a very soft spot for Sparks. But it had been a fuck of a long day. He couldn’t help but think of how often he’d felt that way recently. Was he losing the taste for all this? “Thanks, Charlie.” His assistant had arrived before him, to take his coat and jacket, and to offer him refreshments, but then Nic waved him away. “Take the night off, okay? I think I just want to bed down early. There’s nothing on the agenda for tonight, is there?” Charlie Cohen, an alert and loyal young man, cleared his throat warningly. “There was one call, Nic, from Ms. Amanda Bradnam – the interviewer of this morning’s TV show?” Nic winced. “One call?” Charlie grimaced. “You guessed it, boss. More like ten.” His nose wrinkled with distaste. Nic sighed. He caught the inquisitive glint in Charlie’s eye. “It’s just business between us.” “You want to tell her that?” said Charlie, sharply. “I’d prefer not to deal with her calls at all.” He shook his head, irritated at losing his professional calm. The arrangements for this interview had been nothing but a thorn in his side, and much of that was due to Amanda’s attitude. Pushy, arrogant, disrespectful … and so obviously keen on a date with the famous Nic Gerrard. But Charlie reckoned he knew 5

Clare London what appealed to Nic, and Amanda Bradnam most definitely did not. “She’s a pest. Annoying and cheap.” Nic grinned, wearily. “Charlie, that’s harsh. She’s a journalist, is all. And if you really need to know the whole of it, we dated once, that’s all. Long time ago. We both decided to give it a miss. I doubt she even remembers.” Charlie didn’t reply but his raised eyebrows spoke volumes. Nic shrugged. “That’s how it was for me, believe me. I have no desire to resurrect it. Please make my apologies, you know –?” “I know,” replied Charlie, and his smile grew warm again. “Another night, maybe,” murmured Nic, with an almost automatic response. He remembered her shining, inquisitive eyes at the interview. Charlie wasn’t the only one who’d felt harassed. He felt a knot of tension in his throat, and a sudden idea of how a victim of stalking might feel – there’d been more calls than strictly necessary from Amanda about the damned interview, then she ‘bumped into’ him at a gallery opening last month, and they also met rather unexpectedly at the launch of that new designer cologne... “Nic, are you all right?” Charlie was hovering, concerned. “I’ve rustled up a light Caesar salad for you, it’s all laid out in case you want a snack. And I poured you a drink, it’s beside the bed with a fresh bottle of water as well. Can I get you anything else?” He was shorter than Nic, with black hair and dark, hooded eyes. He was running to plumpness already, although he couldn’t have been more than a couple of years older. A good Jewish boy was how he always described himself, though he did it with an attractive, cynical smile – he ate what his glamorous, divorced Mother baked for him, saved a large proportion of his salary according to her instructions, and spent weekends meeting her choices of prospective Jewish brides. Then – he would add, laughing good-naturedly – he’d spend the following week avoiding the hapless girls’ return visits. He had a sympathetic understanding of the pressures that Nic was under; a man who was successful, sexually fascinating to many people, and almost constantly in the public eye. He’d been with Nic for over two years now and was devoted to him. In return, Nic had come to rely on Charlie for his 6

Sparks Fly invaluable organizational skills – and his ability to keep secrets when it mattered. Charlie’s question tonight was very deliberate, and he put a hand on Nic’s arm. “Tell me how I can help.” “Charlie, I’m fine…” But the murmur was half-hearted. Charlie felt the hesitation, and his response was to run his hand around to the other man’s chest. He slipped his fingers between the buttons of Nic’s shirt, and started to flip them open. Nic sighed. “You don’t have to, Charlie…” “I know. But I want to. You need to relax.” Charlie tugged the shirt out of the trousers, sliding it back off Nic’s shoulders. Gently, he pressed the other man back against the wall, his hand firm on the bare, browned chest. For a few minutes he massaged the knotted muscles of Nic’s neck and shoulders, trying to bring him some relief. His breath was soft and steady on Nic’s skin as he concentrated. Then he sank to his knees in front of his employer, and slowly unzipped Nic’s pants. “God, wait … I don’t know if I…” Nic groaned slightly, though from the way his hand rested on the crown of Charlie’s head, it was obvious that this wasn’t the first time Charlie had done this. Nor the first time Nic had let him. “Relax, Nic. It’ll be good. It always is.” “Charlie.” Nic was still protesting. “When I gave you your job description….” Charlie laughed softly. “This is as a friend, Nic. This isn’t on company time: it’s for you. And me, too.” Sighing, Nic leaned his head back against the wall, running tentative fingers through Charlie’s dark hair. Charlie reached inside Nic’s pants, his nimble hands smoothing across the silk boxers. Ones that he’d shopped for himself – Nic never had the time. He stroked the telltale bulge underneath, and felt Nic’s slight flinch as he nudged the waistband down to Nic’s hips. Eagerly, Charlie encouraged the halferect cock out of the silk, nestling it in his palm. It was warm and 7

Clare London smooth, the ruddy flesh bobbing out from the bed of crisp pubic curls. It was swelling gently, the tip easing out of its sheath, glistening with a bead of pre-come. Charlie sighed, gently. The boss needed looking after – Nic needed attention, he needed care. But Charlie needed to do this as well. This was a win-win situation, wasn’t it? Charlie pressed his thin, smiling lips to Nic’s hesitant cock and licked greedily across the tip. He murmured with pleasure as Nic shuddered: the flesh swelled even more, and pushed through his lips. His mouth widened, sliding down over the head, and he started to suck. He felt the thickness grow, the pressure of passion building up inside his mouth. It’d be quick tonight, he could tell. Nic moaned, pressing down on Charlie’s head, rocking his hips to meet the suction. For a few blissful moments, his memories of the rest of the day eased away. All he could feel was the delight of Charlie’s mouth and his confident hand, cupping Nic’s balls inside the silk boxers. Nic’s eyes were half closed but he knew how this scene would look if he glanced down – the dark head bobbing at his groin, Charlie’s hand down inside his own pants, Charlie’s fiercely polished shoes creased at the toes as he crouched down awkwardly to blow Nic…. Nic shook his head with irritation; his attention was drifting. Just then, Charlie ran his tongue around the crown of his cock, and slipped his fingers back under Nic’s balls to stroke at the skin of his perineum. Nic sucked in a painfully excited breath. Damned guy knew exactly where to press, at just the right time…! Charlie started to rock backwards, increasing the pressure, running his tongue across the slit, savoring the seed that was starting to leak out. Nic was gasping now; every one of his nerves was straining, the blood rushing from elsewhere in his body to that one, magnificent, tortured point. He gripped at Charlie’s hair, his thighs tensed, and he cried out loudly. The rush of excited lust and his desire for relief took him over the edge to climax, and he thrust forward, spewing come into his young assistant’s mouth. His vision blurred; his skin flushed all over. In the background, he could hear Charlie chuckling. 8

Sparks Fly Panting, his heart hammering against his ribcage, Nic flattened his hands against the wall to help keep himself upright. Grinning, Charlie climbed up off his knees. He ran a hand across his mouth, scooping up a few loose strands of come. His eyes were dark with excitement. “Charlie….” “You…?”

Nic could hear how hoarse his voice was.

Charlie shook his head, ruefully. His face was very flushed. “Got to go – I’m due at Mother’s. Late already, actually. And you gave me the rest of the night off, remember?” he joked, but his eyes betrayed his hunger to stay a little longer. So did the thick swelling at his groin, his arousal tight inside his smart pants. But he was wise enough to know when to push for more – and when to leave with what he had. He sighed. “A quiet night in, then, boss. I’ll see you in the morning, eight o’clock prompt!” He smiled at the other man’s dazed, rueful expression. “Sleep well, Nic.”

LATER on that evening, Nic sat propped up on his king-size bed, watching some sporting event on the giant wall-mounted TV screen. He had no idea what the score was, yet he didn’t feel inclined to turn it off and try to sleep. He’d picked only fitfully at the salad that Charlie had prepared, and he’d not touched his drink. His mind was elsewhere, and it wasn’t particularly content. A quiet night in, Charlie had joked. But it always was, wasn’t it? It had been weeks since he’d been out anywhere for his own enjoyment, somewhere that hadn’t been planned as a PR duty, or a business related event. It was an even longer time since he’d dated anyone for any length of time, let alone someone he’d have called special. He didn’t count the somewhat astonishing yet pragmatic arrangement he had with Charlie, or the succession of young men and women who threw themselves at him on a regular basis, just because he’d been on TV that week or in a popular magazine. Yeah, he sometimes caught and enjoyed them – it was a mutually enjoyable, 9

Clare London short term thing. A man needed to relax, after all, and he’d always had a more than healthy libido. He was pretty well off financially, he was in the public eye – he knew, cynically, the attraction that would hold for many. That was their problem, not his. But it never gave him anything for keeps. He gazed restlessly around the suite. He’d been here for some months now, after uprooting to the city so that he’d be nearer the center of the negotiations, but he hadn’t added many personal fittings or decoration. He knew he might be moving on again at any time. That was another symptom of his unusual and erratic lifestyle – he rarely stayed anywhere longer than six months, and it was always a hotel, a suite, a base; not a home. But wasn’t all this what he’d always wanted? Success, money, fame! Everything that’d seemed so far away when he was a child. His mother had been a rebellious, free-spirited girl who was a persistent runaway all through her teens into early adulthood. All she wanted was to live by the sea and follow the surf – and surfers. When she fell pregnant, she was abandoned by the boyfriend she’d devoted herself to all that summer. His family had other plans for his professional future where a wife and baby weren’t featured, she’d told Nic, though with surprisingly little bitterness. She’d struggled without any help from her disapproving family to bring Nic up on her own. She couldn’t hold down much of a job; she’d continued to be rebellious and awkward in the face of authority. But she’d never been less than fiercely devoted to him. They’d lived in hovels and trailers and the spare rooms of transient friends until he’d scraped his way through a business college course. It wasn’t a particularly unique story – he knew that, he wasn’t looking for sympathy – but it was his, and had shaped the man he was today. He’d been fiercely protective of his Mom while at the same time fighting a growing resentment and desire to do better for himself. Just after he left college and started looking for a job, she contracted cancer. Her family suddenly vanished from all contact, despite his initial calls, and so it ended up as the pair of them alone, same as it always had been. She died quickly and relatively painlessly – Nic knew he should be grateful for that, for her sake – but he’d been 10

Sparks Fly full of grief and shock for a long while. He often wondered if he’d have got himself back on track on his own, but he hadn’t needed to – he met another guy who’d graduated from his college, and that unexpected friendship changed his life again. Greg was several years older than Nic, and so full of entrepreneurial ideas that they seemed to spill out from him. Nic went to work in a financial services company, bringing in a modest but steady salary, while Greg pursued innovative business venture after venture. Some worked – some didn’t. Nic smiled, remembering the older man’s irrepressible enthusiasm. Success didn’t seem to matter to Greg; the excitement was the thing that got him buzzed. Most of Greg’s ideas started with a few bottles of beer, a twentyfour hour website search, and then the preparation of an impassioned, if not always robust, business plan. He asked Nic to move in with him, providing him with a sounding board and Nic with a home and an emotional base. Greg allowed Nic into his dreams, and Nic started to bring his own inspiration and developing maturity to the partnership. They had balanced each other out for a long while. It had been damned frustrating too, of course! Greg was hard to handle; rarely consistent, easily distracted. For Nic, success had been important. It was inevitable that their desires drifted apart on the business side. When Greg lost interest in a small but promising online dating agency he’d started, Nic almost tripped over his own eagerness to get at it for his own sake. It had caught his imagination and he could finally see the chance to bring his own ideas to fruition. It’d be his escape – a dream come true. A chance for him to build his own life, and his own success! Astonishingly hard work of course, turning a failing business around entirely, but he’d done it. He’d learned from Greg, both what to do and what not to do. He kept the overhead low and the working hours long, and spent his money on shrewd marketing and sound technological support. Plenty of people thought he was too young to deal with – plenty of people were proved wrong. He re-branded the business, followed up the contacts he’d pursued, and personally chased for clients. It had worked. The first few months were a nightmare of exhausting twenty-hour working days, nervousness and uncertainty, 11

Clare London and the burning up of every penny he’d ever stashed away – then one of his friends came through with a promotional spot on local radio, which led to a session on an online chat room, which led to a month’s free banner space on an advertising site…. The registrations began to swell, and the agency became a business reality. Nic didn’t stop there. As soon as Sparks started to build a reputation, he moved quickly out into the public arena to market it. And knowing no different, he did it all himself. Without consciously planning it that way, he was building the brand of Nic Gerrard, not just the business. He was his own best advertisement! Whatever the agonies he’d suffered in the early days with so many sleepless nights, sitting on Greg’s apartment floor surrounded by piles of spreadsheets and computer code reports, panicking about pitching to potential markets, sweating over funding proposals – despite all that, he started each day and every meeting as a bright, charismatic, eager young man, and people responded to that. The good looks didn’t hurt, either. Suddenly, everyone wanted to know him – to know about him. Sparks had caught the imagination of the people, and so had its chief – and only – executive. Nic had been surrounded by marketing advisors, commercial proposals, and sponsorship deals. It had been the greatest change in his life since his Mom died – and he’d embraced it with enthusiasm. Occasionally, of course, his past life was touched on in interviews or articles, but he never encouraged it. If anything, it added to his reputation as someone who’d striven to rise above his early disadvantages. To Nic, it was just the way things had to be. He’d enjoyed being an entrepreneur – he did it damned well. Soon, he’d started looking around at other opportunities. And from then on in, maybe because of his growing confidence, or some kind of snowball effect, everything he’d touched had turned to commercial gold. He kicked listlessly at the sheets on the hotel bed. So what was up with him these days? It had been so exhilarating at the beginning! Maybe he was getting a little sentimental, but he also knew it was true. The one thing he’d always shared with Greg was the buzz of excitement at the 12

Sparks Fly beginning of any project. Seeing its potential; learning as fast as possible about the industry; fighting off the cynicism at the beginning when investors and clients saw how untried he was. Proving them wrong! He’d not realized the extent of his business flair until then, and it was heady stuff, suddenly being in charge of people and profits. Nic couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that thrill. When had he last really enjoyed himself? He reached for the remote and snapped off the TV. The apartment was cool and quiet around him. Being on his own was an advantage, in that he could concentrate solely on his business career, but it made for some lonely times, too. He glanced over at the telephone on the bedside table, but made no move toward it. Nic treasured his friends, but there were precious few of them around nowadays. Not close ones, anyway, who’d known him at the beginning – who liked him for himself, not just the public persona – and he had little private time to nurture new ones. God, he thought ruefully. My own personal pity party. Greg had baled out long before Sparks regained success, both from the business and from Nic’s life. Nic hadn’t seen him since, and rarely talked about him to anyone. The friendship had been something private and precious in his life, helping him build his confidence; helping him find his way. He missed Greg, often, but he’d honored the man’s decision to move on. Apparently there’d been some fantastic new opportunity in Australia that Greg had found – he’d pinned up pictures of beaches and surfboards all around the apartment, and talked endlessly about waves and leisure wear franchises and the freedom of a new life. And the guys. Plenty of guys. Greg had always had an eye for a cute body and made no secret of it, even when he was with Nic. His irrepressible excitement had made Nic smile, all through the upheaval, the packing, the hasty departure. It was difficult to do anything else, with Greg. Nic still smiled whenever he thought of him, even though there hadn’t been more than a handful of postcards from him, over several years.

13

Clare London They’d been lovers, but only for a short while – Greg had never been a one-man guy – but that arrangement suited them both at the time. Nic had been much less experienced with relationships, having dated mainly women at college, but he wasn’t coy when he and Greg made their first moves on each other. He’d never considered attraction to be restricted by gender, and he gained confidence with Greg’s help in more ways than just commerce – Nic was a quick and enthusiastic learner in bed, too. He’d also been cool with Greg’s fickle ways, enjoying the time they had but not expecting more: he was proud of the fact they were still friends, even after Greg moved that part of their life on as well. And he’d never for a minute considered holding Greg back. After all, his departure had opened the way for Nic instead. He’d rented Greg’s apartment for a few more months until he found somewhere of his own, and so he had plenty of time to concentrate on developing Sparks. He couldn’t keep it running entirely on his own for long, so as soon as he knew he was on to a potentially winning proposition, he found new premises and recruited his own modest team of staff – and to give the old program a ‘facelift’, he started looking for suitable programmers. Well, just one in particular sprang to mind. Nic shifted again on the bed. Funny he was thinking of that guy, now. He couldn’t remember who’d recommended the systems engineer who re-wrote Sparks’s original program almost singlehandedly. A young man, Nic’s age, and with a glowing resume that Nic had suspected at first had to be faked, it was so gushing. Then he met the man himself – quiet, fiercely determined and somewhat introverted – and Nic knew that deceit and fiction were equally unlikely for this man. He’d been a revelation – he’d grasped Nic’s ideas in minutes, had worked as hard as Nic himself to get it written, and taken on Nic’s passion to give the industry something more sophisticated than it had ever seen before. And they’d had fun doing it, hadn’t they? 14

Sparks Fly Ridiculously long days and nights; so many crumpled sheets of paper lining the floor that Nic had fallen over hidden folders and trash cans more than once; charts on the wall, stuck and re-stuck with old tape; sweeping lines in red marker pen as he sketched out on a whiteboard the pattern of a client’s profile he was looking for. And through it all, the tap-tapping of the engineer at his keyboard, his dark head bent over the keys. Nic couldn’t remember him ever going home before he did himself. They’d been good company for each other in a strange, diverse sort of way – Nic chatting continually, the engineer a silent, concentrated counterpoint. But the guy had made his mark, regardless – he’d make shrewd, quiet suggestions, just when Nic was at his most frustrated, suggestions that allowed them to branch out in directions that hadn’t been taken before. And then his fingers would fly faster – Nic remembered more than once the need to move halfempty cups of cold coffee out of the way of his jerking elbows – and the program took shape. Aidan West, Nic thought, with some surprise. The name provoked a frisson of emotion in him that he didn’t immediately recognize. He’d not thought of the man recently, nor seen him around the executive offices. That was obviously because once the agency was launched, there’d been no more major development work needed on the Sparks program. There’d been no need for Nic to work with West directly again. Nic had guarded the secret of the software most carefully, and had been worried that West would be tempted to develop it for others, too. But he never had. He’d come to them as a freelancer, but he was still committed to Sparks, contracted on a regular basis for maintenance and upgrade issues – Nic remembered seeing his name on the payroll records now and then. Aidan West. His face was suddenly very vivid in Nic’s mind. Nic felt a slight shiver that had nothing to do with the level of air conditioning in the suite. A fantastic worker, an invaluable asset – that’s how Nic remembered describing him to some of the potential investors. Nic had tried to get to know him better – personally, like he did most of his close staff – but he had no luck. West didn’t seem secretive, as such, 15

Clare London just private and sparing with his conversation. entirely in his work.

Involved almost

A company geek, some of the other staff had joked. Nic frowned to himself. The guy had been far more than that, surely? Patti, Nic’s secretary, had called Aidan a geek too, though she’d added that he was the best looking geek Nic ever employed! The memory turned Nic’s frown into a rueful grin. Patti didn’t often let anything get in the way of a conquest, but he was pretty sure she’d had no success there, or wouldn’t the whole office have heard by now? He’d look up West tomorrow, he decided, when he went down to the executive office to sign some stuff. Yeah, he nodded at the thought, that’d be good. Maybe he’d settle to sleep now he’d decided what was bugging him. He got up out of bed, unfolding his lean, athletic body and padding over to the bathroom. He was wearing only his sweat pants and a sleeveless t-shirt, having changed into something more comfortable as soon as Charlie left. The casual clothes made him look younger, and showed off an impressive physique that boasted a succession of personal trainers. His hair was damp from an earlier shower and curled down on his bare shoulders; it flicked around his neck as he washed his hands and splashed his face one more time. He wore his hair too long for the City, apparently, for the ‘suits’ who’d been working on his proposal, who’d been negotiating on his behalf. He wore the wrong clothes, too, and although they were of the best designer quality, he wore them in a way that was ... eccentric. Nic grinned, remembering when he first interviewed Charlie, who’d turned up in a smart, tightly buttoned and immaculately pressed suit. All through the meeting, Charlie’s eyes had been fixed on Nic’s bright red shirt and his long, wavy hair, pushed impatiently back now and again behind his ears. Charlie confessed – after he got the job – that his own choice of clothes had been his Mother’s. Nic told him that if he saw him wearing a necktie again around the office, he’d throttle him with it. Charlie had paled, very quickly. It took him another week before he adjusted to Nic’s sense of humor, and loosened up. Nic Gerrard had always wanted to succeed, but on his own terms. He was never going to be one of the crowd. 16

Sparks Fly He stretched now, linking his hands above his head and pulling some remaining kinks out of his shoulders. His t-shirt rose up, exposing the tight muscles on his bared belly, and he cracked his knuckles. Perhaps he just needed a change. Some new challenge. Aidan West … yeah, he’d see him tomorrow, assuming he was in the office. It was all to do with the Sparks program, the reason for his agitation. It was his baby. West would be the best guy to talk to about some new ideas he had for its development and then he’d be fine. But why did he still feel so restless? He looked over at the well-stocked drinks cabinet, but his glass was still full from earlier. He pushed it away and settled back down on the bed. Maybe he’d run through that business plan for the Spring campaign from the Marketing team. Charlie had brought it over to the apartment earlier, and left a luridly-colored post-it note on the cover, suggesting slyly that Nic might need something to lull him to sleep later. Nic pulled the pile of papers off the side table and on to his lap. He turned the first page and yawned. Yes, a quiet night in, it certainly was.

17

Clare London

AIDAN West let himself into his downtown apartment, shutting the door firmly behind him. He nudged open a small box on the wall beside it and tapped in a quick, complex series of numbers, disabling the self-installed alarm system that covered the whole of the apartment. He shrugged his denim jacket onto the sofa, kicked off his shoes, and went to turn on his network. It was always his first move, before a drink, before supper – before anything. Of course, he had mail to pick up, programming to check, but if he were honest, he knew the connection was more than that. It was his life. His purpose, his desire – and his only company nowadays. He dropped his keys on the side table and took a deep breath, back in the sanctuary of his home. It had been a hell of a long day. He’d been back working full-time at Sparks for several weeks now – they’d demanded his total commitment and time as soon as they started preparing for the launch. Well, maybe the corporate letter – and the increasingly urgent telephone calls – had requested it, rather than demanded, but as far as Aidan was concerned, the request had been made with an edge of determination and a salary check that blew anything else he was involved in out of the water. It wasn’t a problem, anyway, because he wanted to work on it again. And there was plenty of work to be done! The system had run reliably ever since inception, but the management was looking for something special for the launch, to present a new, more glamorous user interface in time for the public announcement. Something smarter and sexier, one of the marketing 18

Sparks Fly guys had said, his young face pink with enthusiasm. Aidan grimaced at the mere memory of the word in the same context as his work. However, he was enjoying being there again, rejoining the technical staff. Being on a team wasn’t one of his main priorities when it came to career decisions, but it was surprisingly pleasant, nonetheless. Only if the team was good, of course, which it was at Sparks. And even then, he didn’t allow the pleasure to distract him. His intention was to direct the best of them on the main project support, while ensuring that no one was allowed anywhere near the core program without his overall supervision. That was always part of the deal, and the way he worked best. He’d be given responsibility for a team and they worked to his standards – or left. He’d fired men and women before; he’d do it again if need be. He was glad that Sparks gave him that measure of authority; that they realized he knew best in that area. The large-sized screen of his PC popped into life in front of him, the blue light blinking in the dark room. He turned on a small but powerful side lamp. The room’s main light bulb had blown days ago, and he kept forgetting to buy a new one. Like he forgot to get food, like he forgot to return calls from his work colleagues. Now they didn’t bother inviting him out with them any more. And when they did – well, he had to admit he could be a difficult companion. He wasn’t so dense that he didn’t see his own character faults. He could be too serious – he’d miss the point of other people’s jokes, although his own sense of humor and his wordplay was sharp enough. He didn’t have much time for clubbing and drinking, either, and he dated so rarely he couldn’t remember much about the last time. Yes, he could. He grimaced, ruefully. He didn’t broadcast his sexual preferences much – he’d never seen any need to carry details of his whole personality on a placard around his neck – but he still seemed to attract people sometimes, whether he wanted to or not. There’d been a guy he met at the squash court a couple of times, and Aidan had been tempted beyond a nod and a civil hello – it had been in a moment of weakness; of sudden loneliness. The guy had finally persuaded Aidan to come for a drink after a tournament. The man had been good-looking, very easy-going. Good company, too. But it had been the first and last date. 19

Clare London Aidan knew it had been almost entirely his own fault. He was poor at social chatter and even worse at flirting. His interaction with people was clumsy and very often abrupt. He was intolerant of people who couldn’t keep up with his thought processes, or who annoyed him – he also got too angry, too quickly, he knew that. He had a temper he couldn’t control well when he was provoked. It was as if his body and emotions couldn’t keep up with the speed of his brain. The guy from the squash courts had never meant to provoke Aidan – in fact, Aidan genuinely couldn’t remember what he’d said or done that had disturbed their evening out – but things had gone downhill rapidly after that. Aidan had left before the bar closed, on his own – and before he’d had to make a decision about any other kind of interaction. It was a familiar pattern for him. He booted up the main unit and logged in, surfing his email quickly, and then padded into his bedroom. The apartment was just three rooms in total, and the kitchen acted as his office, of far more use to Aidan than somewhere to cook or eat. All of the sparse furnishings were from outlet stores, the walls bare of decoration, not that his surroundings were of much interest to him. He had no TV, he had no hi-fi. Just the computers, and they were leading edge equipment. He could download entertainment if he wanted, but he rarely did. And that was fine. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the money for anything else – no, the contract at Sparks paid well enough for the very best. But why would he need it? He peeled off all his clothes, down to his boxers. He usually worked at night like this. The apartment was well heated, though he rarely felt the cold. He was a young, slender, sinewy man, with the pale coloring and the thick, wavy black hair of someone of Celtic descent. That inheritance came from his mother’s family who had emigrated from Ireland during the desperate famine of the nineteenth century, but Aidan had never cared to investigate his history any further. No one who knew him had ever heard him speak of his family. He also had little interest in looking in the mirror at himself. If he had, he would have seen a very striking man, with full, sensual lips and vivid brown eyes. But his good looks were rarely shown to their best advantage – his expression was too often marred by a set mouth, and a habitual frown that mirrored his racing, internal thoughts. 20

Sparks Fly There was a pile of papers on his desk beside the screen, and he caught sight of Sparks’s name on one of them. Further down, it was signed off by Nic Gerrard. He’d worked very closely with Gerrard in the early days of development. At the time, he’d thought his new boss would be an insufferable nuisance, but he’d actually been quite tolerable. Very extroverted, very demanding, of course, and he moved in a different world from Aidan – but Gerrard had a good grasp of programming logic, even if he didn’t have any technical expertise, and an excellent understanding of how it could service the product. It was Gerrard’s idea and his enthusiasm that got it all going – but the final product, Sparks, bore the imprint of both of them. Aidan was very proud of that, although he’d never admit it aloud. He’d enjoyed that time! That wasn’t a word he used to describe his work very often. He smiled to himself, a little sadly. Part of his problem in socializing with other people was that he bored easily, and he needed continual challenge. Gerrard seemed to understand that, in those early days. Since then, the Sparks program still needed maintenance and enhancements, and Aidan was kept busy enough. But it wasn’t quite at the same level. He wished he weren’t thinking about Nic Gerrard, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. And it was damned difficult not to, when the man was on every billboard and every chat show! Now he was even in the financial press. And where was he? Aidan West? On your own again, he told himself, which is how you like to work, remember? In a team, maybe, but not of a team. And he thrived on it. Meeting deadlines, delivering the product, forcing through the testing and the implementation, and testing again. All driven by his own, personal determination. The thoroughness and singlemindedness were his trademark skills. There was so much satisfaction in producing perfection, that he didn’t have either the time or the inclination for other relationships. Did he?

21

Clare London He shook his head, impatiently. It wasn’t his style, this introspection. What a fool, questioning himself! He sat down firmly at the screen and scrolled to his directory. It’d be another quiet night in for him. Like it always was.

“WATCH yourselves, Nic Gerrard’s coming around this morning,” called one of the girls in the executive office, passing by Aidan’s cubicle. Aidan glanced up over the half partition, but looked down again almost immediately – it was Patti, Gerrard’s own secretary, and she was talking to the guys in the cubicle one over from him. He didn’t particularly want to catch her eye. She’d been acting kind of strange toward him recently. Kept hanging around him, even when he went for a cup of water. One of his other colleagues laughed loudly as she passed by, and there was a babble of voices. “Coming to fire someone…?” “No, something to do with the launch.” “Nah, to catch you surfing for porn!” More laughter, more banter – Nic ran a relatively relaxed office, though he’d fired people in the past who didn’t commit enough to him. Perhaps these guys have forgotten that, thought Aidan. He’d never had quite the same relaxed attitude toward staff. But the boss hadn’t come around this department for weeks and there was a certain amount of excitement when he did. Aidan didn’t know why they should be so hysterical about it. Obviously the visit was to do with the launch. He paid enough attention to business matters to know the importance of the company going public, and also to expect the media circus that followed it – and Gerrard himself – around. Nic arrived a half hour later. Aidan could pinpoint the exact moment because of the sudden, excited tension that gripped the 22

Sparks Fly atmosphere in the office. He watched Gerrard as he moved down the corridor, greeting some of the staff, laughing with his PA, that darkhaired, bossy guy who almost fawned over him. Nic was looking through some of the ideas from the team, signing some requisitions – just general stuff. He didn’t need to come around here that often, he had plenty of managers to run things for him. Or so Aidan understood. Anyway, he usually made himself scarce when he knew a ‘royal visit’ was planned, for he could work remotely from his apartment as well as from here. Today had caught him unaware. The Gerrard effect was a distraction he didn’t need. The Gerrard effect! It was a phrase that Lin, one of his colleagues, had coined. She smiled mischievously as she said it, though even her breath had quickened at the mention of the boss’s name. It was obvious to anyone who worked in Nic’s companies for any length of time, the effect that his physical presence had. The whole office looked that little bit brighter, the staff more motivated, and all because of Nic’s appearance. Aidan wondered what it was that made him so charismatic; that made them all like him so much. There was no envy involved, just curiosity. Nic was handsome, of course. And there was an inner presence to him – a restless excitement that showed in the way he moved, in his fast speech, in his very tactile approach to everyone. He shook hands often, put an arm around a shoulder. Aidan found himself imagining that touch on his own body, but he shook off the ridiculous thought. He had no time for such nonsense. Then the dark-haired assistant was pointing over to Aidan’s cubicle, and Nic came right over to speak to him. “Aidan – uh – hello.” “Is there a problem?” Aidan stood up to greet the boss, but he was confused. He couldn’t think of anything that was running behind schedule, anything that wasn’t being dealt with correctly. He cursed the fact that he felt uneasy. There was no reason for that. “No,” smiled Nic. Aidan couldn’t help but notice the genuine pleasure in that smile. In fact, he found he couldn’t look away. “Does 23

Clare London there have to be a problem? It’s just good to find you in the office, first time in ages we’ve met up. I know we haven’t had many personal meetings since the initial development, but we’re still on the same team, right? I just wanted to catch up with you. Say thanks for your work.” Aidan stared at him. They were of a similar height, and both had an innate confidence – almost arrogance – that made looking at each other something of a confrontation. Aidan didn’t know why he should feel so defensive. Everyone said Nic was a charming, regular guy. Too charming, really, because there were plenty of rumors about his sexual appetite, and the trail of discarded lovers he’d left behind him. Aidan saw the good-looking man standing in front of him, and appreciated those looks in an objective way. It was, of course, of no personal interest to him. He just worked for the man, and it suited them both very well. Gerrard let him work on his own ideas, at times to suit himself, which was more than fair. And he always gave credit back where it was due, was always scrupulously honest. Always honest…. “Come and see me next week,” said Nic abruptly, breaking into Aidan’s thoughts. “Okay? I have some more ideas I’d like to discuss with you. For after the launch. Okay?” he repeated, as if he were worried Aidan would say no. Aidan was surprised at Nic’s insistence. His own, involuntary response to the man was startling – his awareness of the sharp, vibrant eyes, searching his; the other programmers, watching jealously; the slight increase to his heartbeat. God only knew what that was all about! And then Nic was being drawn away, laughing, with only a brief backward glance at Aidan, who found himself standing beside his chair, temporarily halted from his work. There was an odd look on Nic’s face, almost as if he’d been surprised by something Aidan had said. Aidan – although he didn’t know it – was the only one to notice. And there was nothing he could think of to cause it; he’d given nothing more than a grunt of agreement. He wasn’t employed for his small talk.

24

Sparks Fly But he saw a sudden glint, a widening of Nic’s eyes. A flash of something that sent out invisible tendrils to Aidan, teasing at his inner feelings. He felt Nic’s energy as if it had reached out with corporal hands and stroked his skin. And, even more startling, he felt an answering reaction, a shiver throughout his body. Good or bad reaction, he couldn’t have said, because he didn’t have time to dwell on feelings, did he? Idiot! he thought, scornfully. It was Gerrard’s company, wasn’t it? Wasn’t this walkabout thing exactly what they all loved about him? It was just his normal practice. It was just his way of keeping them all on their toes. It’s a damned distraction, Aidan thought, settling back down to his screen. That was all. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, paused again. Yes – just a distraction.

“A virus?” Aidan West knew his voice was too loud and his tone blatantly disbelieving. It was the following Wednesday, late in the afternoon. He stood in Nic Gerrard’s office – he’d refused to sit – and the man who signed his monthly pay check was trying to tell him there was a virus in the system. His system! “I don’t know for certain,” replied Nic. He stared back at West, and his own voice tightened in response. “I’m no expert on these things. But there have been some odd error messages this week. Some of my reports won’t run properly first time, some of the links won’t work. And a couple of clients' details have been lost first time through. Won’t you sit, Aidan?” Damned man made him feel uncomfortable, pacing like that. He acted like one long, straight rod of tension. With a jolt, Nic remembered how there’d often been that charge in the room, when they’d worked together; he felt again the vigor of Aidan’s sharp, concentrated energy. It had been unnerving, and – apparently – still was. Aidan continued pacing. “It can’t be. I’d know. I check all the time.” 25

Clare London “I know,” said Nic. “But I’ve heard a couple of rumors too, about client complaints to other agencies, that they’ve had trouble in communication with us – or rather, one of my guys heard.” He had several intelligence men out in the field – unofficially – with their ears open for the word on the street and with wallets open in various bars. It was always best to keep an eye on what the opposition was up to. “I’d just like you to run a quick check.” “It can’t be,” Aidan said again, and looked him full in the face. Nic nearly blanched at the challenge there. “I’d like you to check,” he repeated, his voice firm. “There’s no virus.” “I said – check!” Nic had risen from his chair as well, and the two of them were glaring at each other. For a minute, it was debatable which one was the boss and which one was the employee. Then Nic took a deep breath. “Aidan West,” he said. “We’re not going to fall out over this, are we? Wouldn’t you want me to do all I could, to protect the business? My business?” “Uh-huh.” Nic wasn’t sure if that was a proper reply or not. Was the man nothing but a geek after all? He’d always thought he had more to him than that. Though – obviously – not charm aplenty. “Do it. That’s an order.” Aidan’s eyes flashed, and for a minute Nic expected more argument. But that wasn’t what was worrying the man. “Of course I’ll do it. But I won’t disturb the live system, you can’t afford the downtime. I’ll recreate it in a test environment, share some of the data.” “Whatever,” shrugged Nic. He had a persistent headache today, having come to work early after a late-night party thrown by a glamorous women’s magazine. He’d been persuaded to take twin models home, then to entertain them in bed – and out of it – into the 26

Sparks Fly small hours of the morning. He’d been damned happy to sleep at the end of it! He staggered awake in the early hours, peeling himself out from between their entwined arms, and sent a text message to Charlie to come and collect him. He’d not woken them for any insincere farewells, but left a bottle of good champagne and a private message, scribbled on a piece of discarded underwear – not his. And now he had to battle with West! He was feeling increasingly like he’d gone a couple of rounds in the boxing ring. He was too used to guys leaping about eagerly to do his will. This one obviously saw no need to give his employer the same respect. “I’ll need more data.” What? thought Nic, irritably. Was he the engineer now? “Can’t you make some up?” Aidan shook his head, mulishly. “No. It must be realistic.” “Use your own,” suggested Nic, rather mischievously. For a brief, wild moment, he wondered what Sparks would make of Mr. West’s personal data. “Already done,” said Aidan. “I need more.” Nic took another deep breath, trying to keep his temper, and gazed back at this awkward employee. But a gifted one, he knew that. If there was a problem…. “Okay, Mr. West – we’ll get a whole damned database for you.” “Uh-huh?” Nic came around from behind his desk, brushing past Aidan as he strode to the door. Aidan felt the warmth of the other man’s body against his side and was slightly shocked. For a second, their eyes met at equal level. The hostility was fading in Aidan’s, but Nic’s wide, dark-blue irises were sparking with some strong emotion. He flung open his door, leaned down the corridor and called out. “Free champagne in here – now! But only for the first dozen to get here –” 27

Clare London He never finished the sentence, because anyone who was still in the office was crowding around the door. Charlie was the very first, and Nic raised his eyebrows at him. “So?” Charlie said, defensively. “Mother has expensive tastes – I’ve inherited them! And I know any champagne of yours wouldn’t be some ten dollar trash, whatever I have to do for it.” “You’re right,” replied Nic. “On both counts.” His eyes ranged over the others, jostling in the corridor, grinning, puzzled. They’d learned to expect many surprises from their boss in the past months. “Okay, the champagne is here, and it’s damn good stuff, as Charlie expects. But also – as he suspects – there’s a small favor to be given in return.” He studiously avoided Charlie’s eyes, which were dilating with amusement. “I want you all to complete an application for the Sparks program.” There were murmurs all around. “You’re not applying in reality,” he explained quickly. “Unless you want to, of course.” “Can’t afford the fee…” came a grumble from one of the office clerks. “Unlike my Mother,” murmured Charlie, dryly. “She’s been registered since Launch Day.” Everyone laughed. Nic continued, regardless. “We need data for a test module. Just a routine check, you understand. Two conditions to earn the champagne – we need the data completed now, before you go home tonight, and I need you all to be completely truthful. Else it’ll be useless. You know how important that is to me. I assure you, it’ll be erased later, after we’ve checked the processing.” Charlie had grabbed a pile of application forms and was now standing beside Nic, handing them out. Several people were looking eagerly for a pen. Nic smiled slightly. “Unless, as I said, you want to join the program for real. In which case, for helping me out, I’ll waive the introduction fee.” There was a muted cheer from the back, and someone slapped someone else around the head to shut them up. 28

Sparks Fly “Find me someone good,” pouted Charlie, and over Nic’s shoulder, he caught Aidan’s gaze from inside Nic’s office. “But for God’s sake, don’t let it be my Mother!”

IT was almost nine o’clock at night, all the other staff had left, and a satisfactory pile of papers sat on Nic’s desk. He leaned back in his chair, staring at them, feet up on the desk in front of him. “Damn, that was better response than I thought! It’ll cost me a fortune in champagne, though.” Aidan watched the ease with which Nic stretched out his arms, lacing his fingers behind his neck. He was confused – should he apologize? Wasn’t it Nic’s own idea, to reward the staff for their input? He’d never known an approach like his. Then he realized that Nic was watching him, and grinning slyly. “It’s a joke, Aidan! Don’t you ever relax and have a laugh? Do something off the wall?” “Of course I do!” protested Aidan. Of course he did! Didn’t he? “And – before you ask – use my data as well. We’re all in this together, eh?” Aidan watched him reach for a final standard input form from his desk. He looked a little weary. Rather like a Western gunfighter, Aidan reached down beside him at the same time, and produced his laptop. “I’ll input directly. It’ll only take fifteen minutes.’

IT had been much longer than fifteen minutes, but neither of them seemed to be complaining. Aidan, of course, was never happier than with his laptop, wherever he was. He was tapping through the questions with a facility that would be the envy of most of Nic’s data processing staff, as Nic snapped out the answers. “Age.” “Twenty three.” 29

Clare London “Preferred age of companion.” “Similar, but it doesn’t matter.” “Preferred nationality –” “None,” Nic interrupted, a little impatiently. “Look, skip through all this batch of questions, Aidan, I have no restrictions on any of that age/height/hair color crap. I don’t see the point of so much of it, though the clients like it. They think it enhances their profile. Think it helps to describe their real selves –” “When they’re really just categorizing themselves,” said Aidan, without thinking. “Yeah,” replied, Nic, surprised at his perceptive response. “That’s true. All it does is tighten the circle, restrict the field. They’re deliberately cutting themselves off from hundreds of potential soul mates. Smart comment, Aidan.” Aidan hoped the warmth on his face wasn’t a blush. “Soul mates? Is that what people are looking for?” “You should know,” smiled Nic. He ran a hand through the loose locks of hair that fell over his forehead, and pressed two fingers to his temple. “You’re the one who helps them find it. Don’t you think everyone’s looking for a soul mate of some kind?” “I haven’t thought about it,” replied Aidan. And, searching his mind, he realized that he spoke the truth. He had never really examined what he was doing, or thought about its impact on real people. He just worked on it because he could – because he could produce what this man had wanted. That’s what his particular skill was. Dear God, was this introspection becoming a habit? It made him very uneasy. Nic was looking at him strangely. His eyes had traveled away from Aidan’s face, and down his body. They snapped back up again almost guiltily. “Back to the questions, eh?” Aidan coughed, and tapped again at his keyboard. “Favorite pastime on your own.” 30

Sparks Fly Nic grimaced. “Damn, I don’t have much time for hobbies. I used to like sailing, and sports….” “Favorite pastime with friends.” “I like to talk!” laughed Nic, “as if you didn’t know! So it’s conversation, and comfortable meals, and – just relaxing.” And how long has that been absent? he thought to himself. “Favorite pastime with a companion,” “A leading question,” grinned Nic. He was slightly surprised to feel the heat of a blush on his face. “Sharing. Exploring. Touching. Whatever.” Aidan paused. “I have no option for ‘whatever’.” Nic laughed out loud. “Is that a joke, Aidan West?” Aidan started to protest, then he saw that Nic himself was joking. And things started to relax a little.

31

Clare London

IF any of the staff had wandered through the office half an hour later, they’d have been both amused and amazed at the sight. Nic had his sleeves rolled up and was perched on the edge of his desk, clutching a handful of papers. Aidan sat in Nic’s chair, still tapping away, but his whole body appeared more relaxed. And they were both laughing! “You see?” smiled Nic. “It’s so very important, the GSOH question, that it has to be explored a little further.” “GS –?” “Good sense of humor, Aidan. Everyone says they want it in a soul mate, everyone says they have it themselves. But what is it? And is one person’s sense of humor the same as another’s? I’m sure you’d agree that’s not necessarily the case. I have hundreds of these jokes, I have Charlie search out new ones regularly. All kinds of humor, all kinds of delivery. And I ask people their response to a selection. It tells me – and others – so much about them. I mean, you loved the joke about the duck and the movie house, didn’t you?” “Uh–huh.” Aidan couldn’t help the smirk at the corner of his mouth. It had been a short, sharp and amusingly rude joke. He’d actually found himself laughing out loud. “But not the one about the penguins on the way to the zoo?” “It was too long, too –” 32

Sparks Fly “No, no.” Nic was shaking his head, but he was still smiling. He stared fixedly at Aidan, with a glint of excitement in his wide eyes. There was triumph there, as well as a lot of enjoyment. “Don’t try to explain why, it doesn’t need it, and it’s the worse for the telling. It’s just an example of the way the program works – why it works so well, for so many people. If they can laugh about the same things to start with, you’re half way there!” “And the other questions in this section?” Aidan was more than a little bemused. “Like – if you had to be a car, which car would you be? Is that a joke as well?” “Based on a popular game, I guess. It’s a bit of fun; it relaxes clients. But again, it tells me such a lot about them, almost against their will. If they are lying to me, or putting on an act, they’ll rarely be able to sustain it through that.” “So – which car would you be?” asked Aidan, quietly. He stared at Nic, trying to guess the response. “Ferrari,” grinned Nic. “What fabric would you be?” “Silk.” “What color?” “Green.” “What drink?” “Hot chocolate,” and Nic flashed a rueful smile. “What, you thought I’d be a cocktail or something?” “What animal?” “Panther,” Nic replied, with no hesitation. “And you?” “Tiger,” Aidan said automatically, then cursed himself for getting involved in the game.

33

Clare London Nic looked at him very closely. Aidan thought his breathing rate had increased a little. “We’d fight, wouldn’t we? Good thing we’re not being matched….” Aidan laughed, a little uncertainly. “You’re looking for a tall, independent, intelligent woman….” “Where did I say that, Aidan?” Nic’s voice had dropped in both volume and tone. “About a woman?” The words lapped around Aidan like a blanket of warmth; he could feel the sensuality in them. To give Nic his due, Aidan didn’t think he realized quite how seductive he was. He bent quickly to the screen again. “I input it here. At the first screen. Then it’s implied throughout the rest of the questions.” “Implied….” “Uh-huh.” Aidan stared at him. Nic’s head had dipped a little, his shoulders were hunched. Of course, Aidan knew that Nic had friends – intimate friends – of both sexes. He might not bother reading the gossip magazines, but he didn’t go through life completely immersed in his work. Patti and the other girls always gushed over the boss as a perfect woman’s man, but Aidan had also overheard plenty of tales in the men’s room. He’d always ignored them – it wasn’t his business, who other people went to bed with. He didn’t think it should be the other guys’ business, either. But he never said. He’d learned at an early age that it wasn’t worth trying to tell people how to behave. “You’re thinking of changing the program!” he blurted out. Nic lifted his eyes to him in surprise. “Yes, I am. How the hell did you know?” “There’s a particular look to you – I remember it from when you first devised this system, when we first worked on it. Every time you had another idea, you’d hunch down and go very still, then your eyes would widen and you’d grin, and your hands would start to sketch in the air –” “Hey,” breathed Nic. “Didn’t know I was so transparent.” 34

Sparks Fly Aidan flushed. “Sorry – that was rude of me.” “No it wasn’t,” murmured Nic. There was a silence of only seconds, but neither made a move to break it. It had been that way, a year ago, Nic remembered. There had been many occasions when they’d worked on in silence – Nic would have run out of breath, Aidan would have been concentrating on his programming. There’d never been any awkwardness in the atmosphere; it had seemed quite natural. There weren’t many people Nic felt that comfortable about, in that situation. His hands lifted, as if to sketch something out – then he saw what he was doing, caught Aidan’s ironic gaze, and laughed. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about a change – about an innovation for our lucky clients. To announce after the launch, basically to keep up the interest. I wouldn’t want people to think we’ll get stale once we go public; that with our shares joining the worldwide market we’ll somehow sell out to the Establishment!” “I doubt anyone would think that of you,” murmured Aidan, a little dryly. And there was that smile again on Nic’s handsome face – a broad, excited smile that had been there for most of the evening. Aidan watched as his boss slid off the edge of the desk and turned, pacing the room in front of them both. His hair was a healthy fall of chestnut, curling into his neck as he nodded his head, obviously following a thought through in his mind. “Let me think it over – we can talk tomorrow about it, maybe Friday. I need to spend some time on it. It could blow the whole thing wide open….” Aidan stared at him, watching the tall, lithe body fill the room with energy and vibration. He couldn’t help smiling in reply. God, Nic looked so good! Aidan felt he’d been transported back many, many months, back to when Sparks had started to take shape, when he’d been in this office more often than his own apartment. And had been around Nic Gerrard all the time. Gerrard, with his bright eyes and easy wit; his fast and frivolous intelligence. And that incredible charisma that drew everyone to him, that put him above everyone else. In the public eye; available for public use. Just how he seemed to like it. 35

Clare London Aidan realized that his mind had been wandering. His eyes were locked on Nic, but his mind was drifting away to those older memories. And so it was all the more shocking, the sudden, uneasy chill that swamped him, snagging the edges of his consciousness. He felt almost physically sick, and he recognized a growing anger against his own weakness. He’d not felt this disorientation for a long time – and dammit, he refused to let it return! Then he’d have to face what it was telling him; what, for a long time – over a year ago – it had told him every night, in his dreams. Painful, private, passionate dreams…. No! That time had finally passed! “There are questions left,” he began, reluctantly. He knew his voice sounded hoarse. “Preferred sexual profile –” Nic ceased his chatter, and bit his lip. “No more now. I’ll complete it later. You can have the rest of the data tomorrow morning.” “It’s no trouble.” “No, you misunderstand. I’ll input my own info from here on in.” “Why?” Nic was impressed – maybe a little confused – at Aidan’s apparent naivety. “Because I feel that information is very personal, and not for discussing out loud in my office.” “But I’ll still see it.” “Yes, I know,” Nic snapped. He also knew he wasn’t usually shy about such matters. People only had to read the newspapers to know he had a generous taste in companions; there were also many who knew he dated both sexes, and liked many types of lovers. It seemed to be tolerated well enough, so long as he was reasonably discreet in the workplace. At least, not many people had ever told him differently. But it seemed unusually awkward tonight – to talk about what sexual requirements he would look for in a soul mate. Better that West saw it just as lines of input data, in the cold light of day. 36

Sparks Fly Somehow he knew that Aidan would deal with it then as objectively as any other client’s input. He wasn’t sure whether that comforted or disappointed him. Damn West! There was something about him that was too unnerving! “Anyway, we’ve worked hard enough, right? It’s been … an unusual evening. Too late to go home and cook; too early to finish the day. Why don’t we grab a bite to eat together?” “I have work to do on this….” “No,” said Nic, more firmly now. This damned man brought the aggression out in him, that was for sure. “You’ll finish now, and come eat.” “I don’t need to eat much.” Nic looked at Aidan’s sparse body, clothed in a simple polo shirt and pants. He could believe that. But the man wasn’t undernourished – there were well-defined muscles under the shirt, and implied strength in his back and legs. He held his head high and confidently; he pushed his dark, curly hair back from his forehead as he worked. Nic had seen him do it many times. He was a very good-looking man. Nic wondered if anyone had ever told him that. Probably never got the chance! He reached for the office telephone and called through to a restaurant that he often used, down the block. “It does all kinds of food, Aidan,” he said, hastily. Instinctively, he recognized that food – like many things – might be a hassle with Aidan. “You can choose as little or as much as you like. It’s on the company.” Aidan shrugged, but he looked uncomfortable. Shit, thought Nic. Perhaps he’d been crass. “Is it a problem? Eating with the boss? I doubt anyone from the company will see us there.” Aidan stared at the other man as if he were mad. What was he talking about? Aidan might have been cautious about his private life, but on the other hand, he didn’t see any need to keep everything 37

Clare London deliberately secret. “Why should that be a problem? thinking that I’ve got nothing to change into.”

I was just

Nic smiled with relief. “It’s not that kind of a restaurant – besides, neither have I. It’s just a place I can feel comfortable in, without a lot of fuss. No reporters have caught up with me there yet! Just a quick supper and a chat, okay?” “Okay,” replied Aidan, collecting up his jacket. He realized he hadn’t given himself any time to refuse – his acceptance had come swiftly, straight from the heart. It felt odd, though, following Nic out of the room, listening to him chatter on about the menu, about the walk there, about anything and nothing. Chattering to him, Aidan. Perhaps uneasy was the word, for this churning feeling in his gut. Must be because it had been so long since he’d eaten out in a restaurant at all. Yes, he was sure that was it. After all, it wasn’t like he was going on a date or anything, was it?

“SO … how’s work going for you? What about the modifications I suggested last month for the secondary search?” Nic sat back easily, hands at rest on the table, a very satisfactory steak finished. The bistro was small yet comfortably furnished, more like a personal dining room than a fancy restaurant. No bunches of flowers on the table or silver cutlery, just clean, white cloths and generous plates of great food. A single candle lit their table, as the main lights had been dimmed as the evening wore on. By now, the two men were the last patrons left. Nic gazed at the remains of the sparse salad that Aidan had chosen, and then picked at fitfully. He frowned. “They’re done,” replied Aidan. “It works well.” The silence fell again. Nic was finding it difficult to keep the conversation flowing, as was his usual style. He called the waiter over for his usual dessert – ice cream, and all the trimmings. He was threequarters of the way through a bottle of wine already, though there was little outward effect on his behavior. Aidan had barely had a glassful. 38

Sparks Fly “And you – are you still enjoying the company? everything you need?”

Do you have

Aidan held his hand up to the waiter, refusing dessert and coffee, and requesting another water. He shrugged in reply to Nic’s question. “It’s good. I have everything I need, the guys work well enough. The equipment’s always cutting edge….” Nic sighed. He reached across the table and tapped Aidan’s hand. Aidan just managed to stop himself from jumping right out of his chair. “It’s difficult to find something other than work to talk about, right? Even when we’re supposed to be off duty.” “Uh-huh. I guess so,” replied Aidan, smiling ruefully. He doubted either of them was ever off duty for long, but Nic was right. “I should make more of an effort. It’s not something I’m good at, I’m afraid.” “I suppose we don’t know each other well enough to have any other topics. At the moment, anyway. It’s always been just Sparks.” Nic realized with some surprise how much he wanted Aidan West to relax. He wanted to connect with him, he wanted to build a friendship on something other than their shared work experience. Hey, Nic Gerrard, his inner voice hissed. Where’s that famous honesty of yours? It’s the man you want, not the employee! Was that it? The sudden thought startled Nic. He wasn’t that predatory, was he? Couldn’t he spend an evening with someone without it coming back to that every time? He stared at Aidan as carefully as he could, hopefully without drawing attention to it. He was gorgeous – there was no denying that! Wiry and of a similar height, even his careless dress sense couldn’t hide the body underneath. He moved with a controlled fluidity that promised strength and suppleness. His hair was a mess of curls, short and completely wild, damned idiot must cut it himself, and with his eyes closed! An image flashed across Nic’s mind, of grasping handfuls of it and tugging Aidan toward him – he was almost shocked at the strength of his feelings. And those very sharp, fathomless, chocolatebrown eyes … even when they were scowling back at him, they had a dark depth that drew Nic’s attention time and again. 39

Clare London Aidan West was an intriguing and fascinating package – a package with the combination of looks and natural intelligence that Nic knew he found attractive. It was overlaid by confrontation and an apparent arrogance, but when had Nic ever been intimidated by that? Though he suspected that many wouldn’t find Aidan worth the trouble. He didn’t quite know why he did – what had made him seek this man out, try to spend some time with him again. It was partly admiration of his skill, of his talents at work. Of the way that he seemed to bring out the best in Nic’s own ideas, in his own inspiration. There was, of course, the strong attraction to his looks. And, Nic had to admit, a mischievous fascination with the man’s outrageous stubbornness. He knew he riled Aidan, and vice versa – but he rather enjoyed the sparring! But there was something else … something that Nic was totally unprepared for. It was a nervousness – a strange, debilitating uneasiness that he felt when he looked at Aidan West. His whole body felt a strong, enervating thrill, but one that was accompanied by a dry throat and a pounding head – all sorts of symptoms that Nic had never experienced when he was pursuing his enjoyment. Or being pursued for it. Had he always felt like this with Aidan West? Surely not … or perhaps he had, nagged an insidious thought inside him. He had, and yet he’d ignored it. Hidden it. Run away from it. He wasn’t sure how to deal with its return. welcomed it.

Or even if he

AIDAN watched with guarded amusement the enthusiastic and almost childlike way that Nic demolished his ice cream. Amusement wasn’t the only thing he felt, but he was fighting hard to bury any other emotions. To bury them deep; very deep. Despite the confusion, he felt a pleasant warmth in the room around him. He felt almost happy at being there, with Nic. It was very disturbing. “Earlier, when I was inputting – it seemed you knew your way around the forms pretty well.” He smiled, tentatively, wondering 40

Sparks Fly whether he was about to insult or annoy Nic with questions he hadn’t even thought through fully in his own mind. Nic nodded. He ran a finger around the edges of his ice cream bowl and lifted it to his mouth to lick off the last drops of cool liquid. “Of course I do. It’s my product.” “No.” Aidan tore his eyes away from the sight of Nic Gerrard’s finger slipping in through his lips and back out again, damp with saliva and the remains of the dessert. He shook his head, more frustrated at himself and his inability to express himself properly in front of this man, rather than with Nic’s answer. “I meant it looked like you’d used them yourself, before now. As a client.” Nic raised an eyebrow. No one had ever asked him that so directly before. “Well, yeah, I did. Maybe I didn’t tell many people; it was in the early days. I did it for research purposes, you know? Or at least, that’s what I told myself.” And he smiled with self-deprecation, to show he wasn’t fooled any more than he knew Aidan would be. But Aidan didn’t laugh at him, or make a crude comment. Instead, he frowned slightly, as if examining a problem in front of him. Maybe that’s what I am to him, Nic thought, ruefully. “What result did you get?” Aidan asked, bluntly. Nic felt a brief moment of embarrassment, but it had all been a long time ago, and he’d gotten over it well enough. Hadn’t he? He smiled and sighed with mock tragedy. “It was so very unsuccessful that I spent months out of the dating game until I regained my confidence!” “Is that a joke?” Aidan raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and Nic laughed with delight that he’d amused him. “Yeah – partly.” Nic grimaced. “It didn’t put me off dating, but it was unsuccessful.” “Why didn’t it work?” Nic frowned, this time. Damned if he knew! “That’s the simplest question to ask, and yet I think we both know how difficult it is to answer. I was matched quite quickly, with – well, with a 41

Clare London professional woman. We had a very strained and unsatisfying date, a whole day and evening because both of us seemed to think we should give it some time, to see if things clicked between us. But she was nothing like I imagined – nice enough, you know, good looking, well educated; she gave a clever impression of sharing my interests. But she didn’t appeal to me. Not in any deep and lasting way.” Aidan opened his mouth as if to ask a question, but shut it again quickly. Nic thought he knew what he’d been going to ask. “Don’t get me wrong, I believe in your programming, Aidan – it’s sound, and I know it works in most cases. But not in mine. Or hers, for that matter. I somehow missed the opportunity to interview her when she first joined up, or maybe I’d have identified earlier on that it wasn’t going to work. In fact, I often wondered how the matching of the pair of us ever got through the system. Either she was lying when she applied–” “Or you were?” Nic winced. “Okay, so just speak your mind, why don’t you? I was pretty sure I didn’t, but maybe I was economical with my own truth. Anyway, I deleted myself from the records after that, and I’ve stayed away as a user – until today.” He glanced up at Aidan’s face to find the other man gazing steadily at him, listening carefully to every word. “I don’t want to think of letting myself down like that,” Nic hurried on. “It’s so important to me, you know? The honesty underlying the whole system. I want people to face that. There’s no right or wrong answer, just the truth about yourself. Nothing’s going to work unless that’s adhered to. And I’m not prepared to run it for anything less.” He shook his head in some rueful surprise. He must have drunk more than he thought, to be rambling on like this. He hadn’t talked so frankly about Sparks since he first set up its mission statement; since it first appealed to him, personally, as something he wanted to spend his time on. “You know, I’ve never told anyone about those dates before. Embarrassed, I guess. Though I suppose you could’ve found it out from some kind of audit trail, anyway, right?”

42

Sparks Fly Aidan’s eyes narrowed, and his body tensed. What kind of man did Nic think he was? He’d never go snooping into the system for his own gratification! He calmed down with some effort. Chill out, he warned himself. He didn’t mean to insult you. “So what you were saying earlier – do you really have plans to change the program again?” “Yes,” Nic replied. “I’ve been thinking of offering something even more different. I just hadn’t decided exactly in what direction I’d go. But tonight … one idea has taken my fancy in particular. It’s partly because of what you said.” “Me?” Aidan was startled. Nic watched the sudden change of expression on Aidan’s face. It opened his eyes, and lightened that habitual scowl. Nic felt his heartbeat hiccup, then settle again to a slightly faster pace than usual. Dammit, but he was good looking! Nic wanted to make him smile again – wanted to see those eyes open in response to him…. “Yeah, when you talked about people categorizing themselves. Don’t look so shocked! You’ve always been a catalyst for me, suggesting things, clarifying things that were just abstracts to me. Didn’t you know that? We worked well as a team, in those early days. I often bounced ideas off you; brainstormed around you.” He searched Aidan’s face for something he wasn’t sure he could have explained – some kind of reaction or support. Aidan stared back blankly, as if he had no idea what to offer Nic in return. He’s forgotten. Well, anyway, here goes. Nic took a deep breath. “It’s highly confidential at the moment – I want no one to know yet.” Aidan stared back. “So don’t tell me.” Nic nearly laughed aloud. “That’s not what I mean. I’ll need your help with it, anyway. I just wanted you to understand the importance of this.” Aidan frowned. It didn’t seem to him that Nic should even need to question that. “I understand that.” 43

Clare London Nic worried his lower lip between his teeth, then launched the news. “Basically, I’m thinking of dispensing with the gender question. Making the match search over all the database – male or female.” Silence fell at the table. Nic toyed with his half empty wine glass, wondering whether to fill it up, finish it off, or just throw the damned thing at the wall. There was a very uncharacteristic tremor of nervousness in his belly. “What do you think about that, Aidan?” Aidan stared at him. Nic’s voice was low, and Aidan felt a tightening in his stomach again. In those early days, Nic had said. As if he, Aidan, might have forgotten a single moment of them – of all the work they’d done. Of all the time they’d spent together…. “What does it matter what I think? If you want it done, it’ll be done. You know I can do it.” “Yeah, yeah.” Nic was impatient, now. It seemed like Aidan was deliberately misunderstanding him. “I mean, how do you think a potential client would feel if they knew they might turn up a same sex soul mate? Is the market ready for it? Or am I being too fucking bold?” Aidan took a long time answering. But it wasn’t because he was embarrassed. If Nic had challenged him, he’d have explained that he was considering it – taking the appropriate time, to give a serious response. When he spoke, his tone was cautious but steady. “I think it’s an excellent idea. I think you should make people face their prejudices and preconceptions; they should examine whether there are alternative relationships. Of course, they should still have the chance to specify a gender, if they feel more comfortable with only one –” “Yeah, of course.” Nic leaned forward over the table, listening eagerly to Aidan’s slow, careful reply. Aidan thought it was an excellent idea! Nic could feel the answering excitement in his chest – and in other places. The blood raced around his body; he felt a shiver run down to his groin. He didn’t want to ask himself why the hell it mattered what Aidan West thought! About the program, about search parameters – about Nic Gerrard…. “I appreciate some people might be terrified at the thought.” “But it could open up the whole world for others.” 44

Sparks Fly Nic gave an involuntary bark of a laugh. “Jesus, Aidan – when you finally speak out, you have a damned fine way with words! I couldn’t have phrased it better myself! That’s exactly what I want to do. Here, let’s drink to it!” They clinked glasses, Aidan rather self-consciously. The enthusiastic light in Nic’s eyes was fascinating, mesmerizing – he couldn’t help but compare it to being caught in headlights. For a few glorious seconds, he realized he welcomed it, whatever the analogy. Nic was still excited, feeling the rush of emotion his ideas always brought him. That, and the wine, made his tongue rash. He wanted more answers from this man. “What about you, Aidan?” he asked, very softly. He held the wine glass very gently, very carefully, and he gazed at Aidan over the rim. The light from the candle on the table was flickering fitfully, as it burned down near to its base. It played shadows over Aidan’s pale face. “What would it open up for you? When you put your own data in, how did you state your preferred sexual profile?” Dammit! thought Aidan. He felt the chill of misery steal over his body and he knew that the time had come. The time when he started to lose the little control that he kept for social occasions like this. The time that would bring an end to this meeting. He felt a strange mixture of fury and disappointment. He thought he’d been having a good time, up until now. “This isn’t about me.” dismissive.

He could hear his voice as harsh;

“No – I –” Nic was confused by his sudden anger, Aidan could see that. He watched Nic’s face struggle with something, then rearrange itself into a pleasant enough smile. “Don’t misunderstand me, please. I wouldn’t want that….” Nic’s tone was smooth again; his eyes had flattened out into politeness. Aidan knew he’d somehow failed – failed to say the right thing, failed to be what Nic had wanted or expected him to be. But 45

Clare London Nic was still turning on the charm; still patronizing the awkward employee. So this is the famous Gerrard charm, Aidan thought bitterly – the ‘Gerrard effect’. And it was his honor tonight to be on the receiving end. “So this is your personal touch, is it?” he snapped. “What?” Nic’s eyes widened. “You take the details, just like we did earlier this evening. Then, I understand that you interview every client personally. Like me, here, now. Will you see all the others later? When I’ve gone home?” Nic was looking bemused. Aidan had seen that look before on other faces. He knew how quickly his mood could turn, how harsh he could get. But he couldn’t stop it. And rarely had he been roused to anger, so quickly – Nic Gerrard seemed to provoke him like no other person could. But now you’re not being honest, he thought. It wasn’t only Nic’s expectations that he’d failed, but his own. Aidan bit his lip fiercely, almost drawing blood. Nic was still puzzled, it seemed genuinely so. “I don’t understand, Aidan. Yes, I sometimes see clients individually.” “See them? How intimate do you get?” “What the hell –?” Nic frowned, starting to shake his head. “This isn’t an interview! Is that what you think? Is this about you having to give your details into the database as well as the rest of us? I didn’t see anyone else getting so uptight!” Aidan was breathing fast, trying desperately to bring his temper back under control. “It’s not that.” “What, then?” Nic was astonished at how quickly he felt antagonistic. He could hear the sharp edge to his voice. But it didn’t seem to deter Aidan West. “I don’t want to discuss my personal details with you. You have no right to know them.”

46

Sparks Fly Nic grunted with annoyance. “I just – it was just a frivolous question, Aidan. Not for any business reasons, not to pry. It was – for personal reasons.” “Uh-huh. Well, I won’t discuss it. Also for personal reasons.” Nic was suddenly, painfully angry. It had taken a lot for him to broach this. Yeah, he might have warm, willing bodies falling all over him at other times, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually approached anyone himself. The last time it had actually mattered to him. “You are really pissing me off, Aidan, you know? I don’t know what your problem is, but I didn’t mean to offend you, and you damn well know it.” All Aidan did was shrug. Nic had never seen such a fucking infuriating gesture in his life. He tried one last, pathetic time. “Aidan, I just thought we might be getting on well, that we might share some interests.” “Some interests? Is that what you call it?” Nic saw the closed look in Aidan’s eyes, and he knew that he’d fucked up. That wasn’t supposed to happen! he thought wryly. He didn’t usually mess up with people – he knew what made so many of them tick, and how to reach them. They loved him and his charming approach, or so everyone had always led him to believe. And he had no idea what he’d done wrong this time, except to be friendly as he always did. It had been the worst idea he’d had this year, to try to get to know this fucking man! “I’m pretty sure you’re being damned offensive, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.” Nic was almost snarling by now. “All I can say is, you need to get out more, Aidan West!” At that, the man opposite him seemed to snap. Nic saw the flare of fury in his eyes, so strong that Nic was shocked to find that it scared him. “And you need to mind your own business, Nic Gerrard! I work for you, that’s all. You don’t own me, prying into my life like this –” “You can’t talk to me like this!” breathed Nic, rather amazed. Where had this argument come from? 47

Clare London Aidan sneered. “What – so this is supper with the boss, after all? You want the official company speak that the others give you? That your sycophantic little assistant gives you?” “No, I didn’t mean –” “That’s not me,” said Aidan, firmly, pushing out his chair abruptly as he rose. He fumbled in his pockets, pulled out some bills and threw them down on the table. “It never will be.” And he left.

48

Sparks Fly

NIC went out with Amanda Bradnam the following night. Her calls continued to be frequent and insistent and Charlie was finding it hard to keep the rudeness out of his voice when he answered them. In the end – and still a little unbalanced from his startling supper with Aidan – Nic agreed to meet her for a drink. She pretended it was for a follow-up to the interview, but Nic knew different. How could he tell? Well, he thought wryly, as they sat at the smart city hotel bar together, he could tell from the outrageous dress she wore, too low on her cleavage and too high on her thighs; from the clichéd, suggestive way she caressed the stem of her champagne glass; from the obvious way she pressed her leg against his, and took every opportunity to touch him. “Tell me more about the matching program, Nic,” she purred. “I love to hear you talk about your work. Your passion.” Her hand fell on his thigh, the long nails slim and sparkling against the pale cloth of his pants. He reflected ruefully on how much less charming she was outside of the studio. Reverting to type, Charlie would have said, barely resisting the urge to say ‘I told you so’. “It’s not something I discuss,” Nic said, rather curtly. copyrighted to Sparks, Amanda.” And you know that already.

“It’s

“I know, I know. But what about the guys who wrote it? Are they working on anything new? I’m in need of an exclusive, sweetie, it’s my middle name, my tagline, you know. You can tell me….” 49

Clare London Nic winced at the ‘sweetie’. “No, he’s not got a new project yet, we’ve been discussing modifications to the core program, some work I’ve suggested on the hobbies and leisure interest section….” “He?” “Pardon?” “You said ‘he’, sweetie. Do you have only one analyst, Nic? Don’t you think that a bit dangerous, for such a significant organization?” Nic tensed. “You’re lecturing me on business risk management now, Amanda?” “Ah, now, don’t be so defensive!” she simpered, the expression giving an unpleasantly creased effect to her champagne-flushed face. “Perhaps you’ll let me interview him, too, some time….” “I think not.” Nic imagined briefly – and rather hysterically – how the introverted Aidan West might react to the idea of being interviewed on a frivolous TV show, in front of millions of anonymous viewers. “Just a few words,” she persisted. “Just a few words on how it is to be the nerd to the stars….” Her words were slurring slightly, and she had leaned forward over his lap. “Nerd? You have a very unpleasant turn of phrase sometimes, Amanda.” Nic was half off his seat already. “I think that’s probably all we have to say to each other this evening, don’t you agree?” Amanda suddenly noticed the hard glint to his eyes. Those fabulous eyes! Damn, she thought, she’d drunk too much in her nervousness, and she’d let her tongue run away with her. How was she to know he’d feel so protective toward one of his damned staff? “Sorry, sorry … Nic, please.” Her voice was wheedling now, but she was past caring. She needed to spend more time with Nic Gerrard – she wanted to. She’d spoken the truth when she said that she needed an exclusive. She was a good journalist, but not one of the best – what she really had going for her was a stubborn relentlessness in digging 50

Sparks Fly up gossip at every turn; to be seen with the stars; to find out the story behind the headlines. She hadn’t made many friends along the way, but that was another thing she was careless about, for many reasons. Her morning TV show was her big break, it had given her access to more of those stories … and to Nic. “Look, I have a room up here, in the hotel. There’s some more champagne there, on ice, waiting for us – it’s your favorite brand, I know it is. Remember? Let me apologize properly.” She waved the key fob to her room in front of his face. Good God. Nic sighed to himself. Didn’t she realize he had propositions like this most days of his working life? And it was usually with a hell of a lot more subtlety or originality. “No thanks,” he began. But she suddenly slumped forward on her stool, and he barely had time to catch her. “Amanda? Are you okay? Christ, woman, how much have you drunk?” Nic could see the barman hovering, but he waved him away. “I have her, it’s okay. She’ll be fine.” He took her weight against his chest with some difficulty – she was completely collapsed. Her eyes were closed and her breath was wheezing. There was nothing he could do except see her safely back to her room. He couldn’t let her lie here, embarrassed, abandoned. Even though she was obviously on something a little stronger than whatever was in that champagne glass. What the hell was she playing at? With a grunt, he lifted the unconscious Amanda, scooped up her key, and set off for the hotel lift.

“BABY – oh baby – yes, harder –!” Amanda was moaning fit to wake the corridor, and Nic was contemplating how he’d got himself into this ridiculous situation in the first place. They were both naked on the bed of her hotel room, her pale, slightly plump body lying spread out on the sheet, her sweat shining in the sickly pink light from the bedside lamp. Her knees were bent up, and Nic’s fingers were deep inside her, moving like pistons.

51

Clare London “Turn, baby, turn around and come here – I want to suck you off.” He turned his body, fingers still fucking her, until his legs were on either side of her head. He wondered briefly if he didn’t prefer it that way; it had become a strain to keep the passionate look in his eyes as she’d moaned and wept her way out of her clothes, then tumbled him onto the bed to do the same to him. It was about then he knew for certain she hadn’t been as unconscious as she’d acted. But she’d taken enough drink and probably some recreational drugs to give her a determination that wore down his resistance. She’d have him tonight, and who was he to say no? You’ve got something better to do? sneered the voice in his head. With someone better? He felt the heat of her mouth around his cock with relief. Now he’d be able to respond, now they could just enjoy themselves; use each other and leave quickly. She was moaning around him, and he was glad he hadn’t drunk more himself. He willed himself to full erection – he needed to move this on to a swift conclusion. See anything wrong with this scene, Nic? his inner voice whispered. Who’s the cheap one, now? He could have done without the critical commentary in his head, but he wasn’t engrossed enough in his companion to ignore the thoughts. He wasn’t giving this his full attention, he knew that; he wasn’t quite the great and willing lover so many people thought him. In fact, he wondered how often that was actually the truth. Nic felt a sad, clammy chill settle in the pit of his stomach. He heard Amanda mumbling with pleasure; he saw the cool linen sheets underneath their naked bodies, creased with sweat and her grasping fists. He smelled her heavy perfume, and could still taste the sharp tang of the champagne that she’d insisted he drank. And yet at the same time, every sense he had seemed to be dulled; to be somewhere else other than this bland, expenses-paid hotel room. And somewhere else was – of course – where he wanted to be himself.

52

Sparks Fly The disorientation and the disappointment tightened his throat. Something like anguish rippled through him; he felt frighteningly close to nausea. At the last moment, as he groaned and shuddered to a painfully limp climax, there was another voice in his head. A far softer one – a far more sympathetic one. This has got to stop, Nic Gerrard, it whispered. This lifestyle has got to stop. Before you go mad with it.

THE virus checking was complete, and nothing had been found. Aidan had sent a curt e-mail to Nic, offering a full report, including an extensive audit trail and reassessment of internal security at every level, but he’d been summoned to the boss’s office instead. Nic stared at the man standing in front of his desk, yet again refusing to sit down in a more comfortable position. “Was there any trace at all?” “None,” said Aidan, barely opening his mouth. Nic looked at the way he held himself – tight and defensive. It was obvious that he really disliked being here. With him, Nic. Had he always felt like that toward him, or was it a recent development? Nic was sure that he remembered a kinder time. He wanted to tell Aidan West to go to hell, and yet at the same time, he wanted to tell him to sit down while he fetched him whatever he wanted. He wanted to punch him, hard – and he also wanted to take that skillful, thin fingered hand and press it inside his shirt, up against his nipples…. Hell, he thought, more than a little shocked. Where did those thoughts come from? “Aidan,” he began, carefully. He’d been disturbed by the awkward end to their supper the other night, and surprised to find out how much. It was important to him that he cleared that up. He didn’t know what Aidan thought about the whole thing, but to be honest, at the moment it was Nic’s problem, and the only way he knew to deal with these things was to get them out into the open. “At supper, the other evening – I’m sorry if I upset you. I didn’t mean to pry.” 53

Clare London “That’s okay,” said Aidan, in a tone that expressed the absolute opposite. Nic bristled. There wasn’t much more he could do except apologize, was there? “Okay, so thanks for the update, you can go if you want.” But Nic heard his voice stumbling on, as if he didn’t want Aidan to leave at all. “When will you be erasing the data on the test system? Charlie keeps harassing me, he’s sure he’s going to end up with the date from hell. Though, hey, perhaps he’s actually looking forward to it –” Aidan ignored his question. But he wasn’t leaving the room, either. “There was one problem I found. In the system. I think we have a hacker.” “A hacker? Shit!” Nic was shocked it could happen, especially in the Sparks system – it implied a high level of sophistication. He realized how much store he’d placed in Aidan’s abilities, to prevent such a thing. And from the look on Aidan’s face, he was thinking the same way. “It’s unforgivable, I know. Do you want my resignation?” “What?” Nic’s face creased into incredulous laughter. “What for? You’re the best I’ve got! If you go, who the hell’s going to sort it out?” Aidan felt the breath catch in his chest. Whatever his mistakes, even if he’d let the company down, he knew Nic’s words were a huge compliment. He didn’t often notice such things, let alone allow them to affect him. But he couldn’t help himself, in front of this man – he blushed. Nic stared back at Aidan, thinking how cute that blush looked. And then mentally slapped himself for such grossly inappropriate behavior at work. “We keep this between us for the moment, though, no one else is to know, okay?” He waited for Aidan to nod in agreement. “So what do you suggest we do? What damage have they done?”

54

Sparks Fly Aidan frowned. “None, particularly. They appear to have been interested in interrogating the code, not malicious damage. Or not this time, anyway.” “Industrial espionage? One of our competitors?” Aidan refused to be drawn. “I don’t know. But I’ll find out. I want to maintain the test system for the time being. It may be useful later on.” “Do we need another firewall? Back up the data more regularly –?” Nic was clutching at the straws of his less than extensive IT knowledge, and they were slipping through his fingers like they’d been well and truly greased. What’s more, he had a nasty feeling that he was still trying to keep Aidan in the office, trying to prove his worth to him as an employer, to prove he could understand what was at stake. It was, of course, useless. No one knew the system like Aidan West. And Aidan West had no need for anyone else to know the system like he did. Nic felt suddenly, hopelessly helpless. “Tell me what to do,” he said, bluntly. The look in Aidan’s eyes was determined. “There’s a lot more investigation to be done on it. I’m passing my current workload on to Keith and Lin, and telling them I’ve some personal projects to work on instead. I’ll work on this breach full time – confidentially – until I’ve found out who it is and what they’re after.” “Thanks, Aidan, for your commitment to this.” Aidan stared at him as if he were deranged. Nic wondered how often he was going to see that look this year. At the moment, it was way too frequently for his liking. “This is my system at risk here, and my reputation. I wouldn’t consider any other course.” “And the gender flag,” said Nic, carefully. “Have you had a chance to look at what’s involved? I’d hoped to start work on the new version of Sparks just after the stock market announcement, next week. I know it’s not necessarily a priority now –”

55

Clare London Aidan was already shaking his head. He was surprised that Nic was taking this so well, but maybe he didn’t realize what was at stake if they didn’t stop the hacker. And in the meantime, it was important to maintain the credibility and efficiency of the company to all its users. They’d always agreed on that – on seeking the very best for Sparks. He spoke brusquely, keen to get away. To start work on remedying the problem; on restoring faith in his own work. To get out of Nic Gerrard’s office, and away from his boss’s keen, searching gaze…. “It’s fine, I’m working on that as well, I ran a feasibility report over the weekend. It’s quite possible to include it as optional, it just dips into the database at an earlier stage. If and when you announce it publicly, Lin can easily handle the background programming. I’ll brief her and finish it off myself in the final pre-implementation stages. In fact, I can probably start running a prototype on the test database, it’ll be useful for that after all. Will Friday be okay for my more detailed proposal?’ “More than okay,” replied Nic, just as briskly. The brusqueness was, apparently, contagious. “Meanwhile, with this current problem, can we still use the system? Should we? We’ve had a great response this month, more new clients than usual. It’s all good news, with the launch coming up. But I don’t want any damn hacker getting too close a look….” “I’ll find the problem, Nic, or seal it off. The business can continue as usual. It won’t affect the launch next week, I assure you.” Nic gazed at the blank, harsh expression that Aidan did so well, and wondered what control it took to block out emotion like that. Or perhaps the bastard never felt it in the first place. He despised himself for losing his own control, and even more so when he felt his mouth open and the conciliatory words come out, regardless. “We can have supper again, talk about it. Hey, things went a little awry last time, didn’t they? But I enjoyed the evening a lot. We should do it again.” 56

Sparks Fly Aidan’s eyes narrowed, but then flattened out again to their usual, inscrutable depths. Nic remembered looking into them over the table the other night, the candle flame flickering its reflection in the pupils. He’d marveled at the hard vibrancy, the intelligence they showed. It was still there, but – by God – he no longer felt it was welcoming. “Sure.” And Nic knew that the single word was the firmest ‘no' he’d ever received. He’d lost any headway he’d gained with this man’s friendship, and he had no idea what to do to make it up.

IT was a full hour after Aidan had left his office that Nic realized he’d called him by his name. He’d called him Nic. Amazingly, he didn’t think Aidan had ever called him that before. Even in the early days, he’d either never used a title, or he’d called Nic ‘Gerrard’, or ‘boss’. And that had usually been with a strong hint of sarcasm. Nic wished he knew whether the change was a good or bad sign.

AIDAN sat hunched forward in his chair, back in his apartment, surrounded by papers and disks all over his desk. There were the remains of a half-eaten pizza in its box on the couch and a couple of empty water bottles on the table. He still hadn’t remembered to put in new lamps in the apartment, so the light was dim and the neon indicators on his PC provoked strange shadows on the desk and walls. But his eyes shone in the darkness with the gleam of satisfaction. It had been a long night, but he thought he could see the beginnings of a trail. He was damned if he’d let anyone hack into his system and remain hidden! However long it took him to track them down, he’d do it. He was logged in remotely to the system at Sparks. He’d been reviewing the recent activity on the hard drives, and was running a search program through the main system on any new or unusual IP addresses. There was a small cluster of addresses that he needed to 57

Clare London cross-check against his data on legitimate users, but some of them he’d never seen before. He cast a careful eye over the test module, running concurrently on another screen. He’d been loading it up with the initial programming on the gender flag issue, but now he was wondering if it might also help him in his quest for the hacker. Idly, he watched the data scrolling across the screen, the details of all the people in the program. This wasn’t an area he was worried about, in either system; the basic search worked well. The hacker wanted information at a much earlier stage. Dammit, he knew what the hacker wanted! He wanted access to the complex matrix that Aidan had programmed, that matched the requirements from the client against the profiles held on the database – not only on a one to one basis, but with a sophisticated set of weightings and balances that he and Nic had developed between them. It was Aidan’s greatest achievement to date, and one he was rightly proud of. Nic seemed to understand how to prioritize the critical elements of a relationship – and Aidan made the protocols to recognize them automatically. Anyone who saw the couplings that Sparks brought together might be surprised, but so many apparently incompatible pairs had found unexpected happiness that its unique approach couldn’t be denied. He saw the lists of data he’d copied across from the live system, and also the data that had been collected from the office staff; the program rolling it all around in its mouth like a fine wine, and then spitting out the matches as each parameter clicked into place. He saw his own name appear and roll out of sight. He saw Patti’s, he saw Charlie’s, he saw many others that he knew. He briefly toyed with the idea of manipulating Charlie’s to the nightmare match that the other man was dreading, but although it would be amusing, he knew such mischief wasn’t really his style. He’d never do anything like that because of his perfect respect for this system. It had almost grown a life of its own as far as he was concerned, and sometimes he felt he was only the guardian, not the master. He saw Nic Gerrard’s data spinning across. 58

Sparks Fly He saw a hiccup, a re-sorting, a happy enough click as the data slotted in with another’s. He saw…. No – that couldn’t be! He tried to call back the data, but it had already scrolled on. He knew the only way to check if what he saw was true, was to progress to the end of the program; to ask it to make its standard Match report. The report that was so eagerly awaited by the real clients. The report that – this time – he had no desire to see at all. He groaned, and in an unusual fit of anger toward his precious system, he abruptly shut it down.

IN a much smaller apartment, in an undisclosed location, another solitary figure sat at a bank of screens. There was no light at all in this room, just the glow from the screens, lighting up its silhouette as it huddled down in a chair. It was totally still, watching the data scroll across the front and largest screen. A large, shapeless shadow, the outline of a human with the reflected lines of code as its features. There was no sound inside the apartment apart from the hum of the equipment; no traffic noise from outside. It was like its own little womb. The equipment wasn’t of the same standard as Aidan West’s, but it was good, and there was a lot of it. The air was hot from the machines, further suffocated inside the room by heavy drapes at the windows, and the tightly closed door through to the rest of the apartment. The quiet was broken by a sudden cough. A hand snaked out from the shadowy body to grasp at a glass on the nearby table. The contents were lifted to the mouth, still totally hidden in the dark. Then the hand put the empty glass back down on the table, and the person was still again. Minutes passed, with no change. 59

Clare London A cooling fan suddenly hissed, spinning into life. The data on the screen started scrolling a little faster, its lines a little more densely packed. The watcher leaned forward. A rhythmic buzz announced the ringing of a cell phone, and the hand reached out again to grasp it from its place on the table beside the glass. The conversation on the other end of the line was a dull echo in the otherwise silent room. The listener grunted a couple of times, and then made a sound of protest. The voice was neither low nor high, just a grating sound in amongst the humming and the whirr of electronic communication. “I’m close now,” the shadow hissed. “I told you. You’ve told me what to do; you have to trust me.” A spike of activity on the nearest screen alerted it, head turning swiftly to catch sight of it. “He’s searching for me, but I can keep hidden. There are enough identities for me to use to keep out of his way. Just a little longer, that’s all I need. Hold your nerve, for God’s sake. I’m into Sparks and I’ll get what we want from it.” The silhouette shifted on its seat as if uncomfortable with the prolonged watch. “Everything we want.”

NIC had the fright of his life when Aidan burst into his office. It was almost eleven at night, and Nic was just standing up from his desk, ready to get off home. There were only so many times you could rework a launch speech, trying to adapt it between a vote of thanks, a reassurance for the financial press, and a marketing plug for the agency itself. At the last minute, he’d decided to keep news of the work on the gender flag out of his main speech – he’d inform the investors and press that exciting new modifications were being considered, but he’d announce more about it when the finer details were worked out. That would ensure extra attention for the launch in the press, and tease the market. Though, judging from his current mental exhaustion, he thought that maybe he’d been too ambitious, trying to launch both the company and a daring product innovation at the same time…. 60

Sparks Fly And here was the crowning glory – Mr. Aidan West! Come to abuse him as usual, he was sure. “I think I can track it down! He left a trail this time; he’s getting sloppy.” Aidan’s eyes were alight with something like enthusiasm. Nic thought he might need to sit down again. “He –?” “The hacker – hackers – I don’t know –! Whatever, right?” Nic had to grin. The excitement from the normally so controlled man was infectious. “Well done, Aidan.” Aidan waved away the praise, dismissively. “I just thought – well, that you’d want to know right away.” Now he was here, he felt a bit bemused. As if he wasn’t sure why he’d come to Nic’s office at all. He’d come back into the office tonight because he needed to run some diagnostic programs, and it was easier to do here than remotely. He had a permanent, twenty-four hour pass to the building, the same as Nic. Also, he knew that many of the notes and the original project documents were still held here. There was a limit to how much he could store at his apartment, even though he had a duplicate copy of almost everything he’d done for Sparks. When he’d seen the light on in Nic’s office, he’d come straight through to find him. He’d never even considered anything else. He looked at the man in front of him and never saw the tiredness in Nic’s eyes, or the evidence of his reports spread out on his desk, or the notes on the wall board from his speech writing. What he saw was the man he’d wanted to see, the minute he knew he was also in the building. “I’ve had an idea of how to trap him – to direct him through the test system rather than the live one.” Encouraged by Nic’s attention, he continued swiftly. “It’ll perform the same way, I think he’ll be fooled. He hasn’t the skill that I have.” Nic bit his lip to avoid smirking at Aidan’s totally unconscious boast. It was inevitably true, after all. “Thanks Aidan. Tell me how I can help.” 61

Clare London For the first time, Aidan listened to what Nic Gerrard was saying. Help? What was he talking about? “What – you?” Nic winced. “I’m that bad, huh?” Aidan flushed. He wasn’t so wrapped up in this that he didn’t realize how rude he’d been. “I don’t mean you’re useless, as I’m sure you know. You have some good knowledge, but it’s a lay person’s. This is my project, my objective, my –” He’d been about to say ‘my baby’, but had bitten the words back at the last minute. That was too open; made him sound too vulnerable. “I don’t need help. I’ll keep working on it tonight; I’m too close to stop now.” “So I’ll stay with you.” Aidan looked totally confused. Nic knew he couldn’t think of an objection fast enough. “I don’t think so –” “No, no,” smiled Nic, moving out from his desk, scooping papers into his drawer as he cleared the surface. “I insist. As your employer.” Aidan was shaking his head, frowning. Smile for me, whispered Nic’s inner voice. Smile for me, Aidan…. “Come on, Aidan,” he wheedled. “Wouldn’t it help to have some company? To have someone to bounce ideas off, to write notes while you’re searching? Like we used to work together. Hell, don’t you need me to move your coffee cup when those fingers get to warp speed?” Yes! Nic thought, a thrill like triumph running through him. Aidan had smiled at his pathetic joke – very slightly, but that was like a leap into the Grand Canyon from him, wasn’t it? “I guess so. It’s your time, after all.” “Yes,” said Nic, softly. “It is.”

62

Sparks Fly

NIC straightened up, groaning a little. He was bent over one of the deserted desks in the IT department of Sparks, trying to keep some kind of order to their work. But he’d lost his place again in the current notebook, and when he dropped the latest printouts they’d all fallen out of sequence. It was the third time he’d done it, too. He was beginning to hate being an analyst’s assistant, with something akin to homicidal mania. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when Aidan called a halt, logging out of the screen he was using on the other side of the room. “There’s nothing more I can do for the moment. The program will need to run for some hours, and by then the office will be opening again.” “What’s it searching for?” Nic peered over at the screen, trying to recognize an English word among all the code. Aidan leaned back in his chair, running a weary hand through his shaggy hair. He needed a haircut sometime. Like he needed to remember food and sleep and all the other domestic things that seemingly normal people found so familiar. “I’m accessing all of the systems, all of Sparks and some of your other shared management systems as well. One of the rogue IP addresses I identified in the access log has turned up in a directory that I haven’t used for over a year. There’s no reason for someone to have been looking in there, except that the password structure is weaker than the more recent ones I’ve established. I want to cross-check it against all the other 63

Clare London addresses that have ever been used; whether it’s been accessing any other parts of the system recently. Then I’ll extend that check to all the external address books on system, see if it leads anywhere, if there’s a pattern of sorts. Maybe it’s not malicious after all, we can establish if it’s some kind of group, or as I suspect, an individual; if it’s a white or black hat hacker….” He realized that Nic had gone silent and glanced up, seeing the confusion in the other man’s eyes. Aidan smiled, not unkindly. “Anyway, I can review the results from home, later this morning.” This morning? thought Nic, trying to keep the horrified expression off his face. A glimpse at his watch showed they’d worked right through the night, and it was past five o’clock. He ran a hand through his own hair, wondering what the hell he had on his schedule later today, whether he’d be fit to do anything. Wondering why – when he thought about it – he didn’t really care. “I don’t need any more help now,” said Aidan, quietly. He’d seen the spasm cross Nic’s face, and he had no reason to delight in bothering the man any more. “I can go on by myself.” Belatedly, he looked over at the desk, at the relatively tidy piles of papers and the makeshift filing system into which Nic had organized all his printouts and data charts. There were cups of coffee, too – most of them empty, only some of them abandoned – that Nic had kept him supplied with. “Thanks,” he said, even more softly. He didn’t know what else to say. Nic sighed. “No, thank you for all you’re doing for Sparks.” He smiled tiredly back at Aidan and decided to grasp his courage and pride in both hands. Hell, one of them had to, right? “Look, I know it all went a bit weird last time, but will you have a bite to eat with me again? It’s the least we can do to thank each other. Just breakfast. I’m starving!” And I promise not to mention anything personal … he nearly added aloud. Aidan watched Nic struggling to persuade him, to make amends. He felt a sudden stab of empathy; he felt bad enough about that meal himself – he’d handled it very badly. To be honest, he had no energy to argue with Nic right now. And after the night they’d just had, he 64

Sparks Fly felt – he was amazed to discover – damned hungry himself! “Okay, fine.” Nic looked startled, but covered it well. “There’s a bar I know that serves early breakfast. Really good choice of food. Is that all right?” “Uh-huh,” Aidan nodded. Nic was still staring at him, the light back in his eyes. “That’s all right by me.”

THE waitress had delivered their coffees to the table, then dragged herself away from Nic with their food order. She was walking – backwards – to the kitchen, still simpering at him. Nic saw Aidan staring between them, bemused, and he shrugged. “I’m a regular – I like her, she likes me. It’s mutually good for the bar that we have fun. Nothing else, we just chat and joke.” Aidan’s mouth settled into a narrow line. “It’s no business of mine either way. But it seems to me you know a lot of restaurants and bars. Do you never eat in?” Nic laughed. “Not often, I guess. I’m usually on the move, or keeping odd hours. It’s not often I get the chance or the energy to cook.” Aidan stirred his cup of coffee slowly, allowing himself time to relax a little, to think about his conversation. “You like cooking?” “Yeah,” Nic replied. Aidan saw a swift, childlike excitement on his face, making him look as he must have done as a boy. “I’m pretty good, actually. I cooked a lot for my Mom before … when she needed help around the house. I’d like to spend more time at it, one day. Got a couple of hundred recipes I want to try. And you?” Aidan hesitated. “Well – yes, I cook. Can’t afford takeout all the time, and it’s not good for me if I do. But I do a lot of vegetarian dishes. Asian, Japanese, Mediterranean, cuisine like that.” “That’s good,” nodded Nic. “I like vegetarian too, believe it or not. We could try some out sometime, I know this place –” 65

Clare London He was aware of the silence from Aidan, and cursed his loose mouth. “Sorry. I’m butting in again. I guess we better talk about work, huh?” Just about the only safe subject, he thought. He didn’t want Aidan up and off again, like a repeat of the disastrous supper … event. Hell, he’d nearly thought 'date’. But Aidan didn’t rise to the bait like before. The waitress returned with their food – a full breakfast for Nic, a mushroom omelet for Aidan, and plenty of juice and coffee – and they slipped comfortably enough into talking about other things. About food, about the décor in local restaurants, about the best and the worst of TV chefs, though Aidan confessed that he had no TV, just watched it sometimes in the office to relax, when he was working late. Or at a colleague’s house. Or, if he were honest, just absorbed other people’s opinions as they chatted about it in the office. “You’ll think I live in another century,” he said, wryly. It’s what most people thought when he told them how few modern entertainments he enjoyed. “You’re not missing much,” shrugged Nic, talking through a mouthful of steaming hash browns. “I’ve lost touch with everything I used to watch, before I launched Sparks and got dragged into the business world by my ears. But I can’t say I’ve lost sleep over it. Charlie keeps me up to date on the best and the worst of the drama series, and I prefer to read my news and documentaries rather than watch them, and all the commentary that comes with it.” “When do you have time to read?” smiled Aidan. The omelet had been really good and he’d been pleasantly surprised to find how enjoyable it was for once, to eat someone else’s good cooking. He felt much better for eating a proper meal, too, having worked solidly through a couple of days and nights on the hacker problem. He felt comfortable here, and Nic had been good company in many ways. “You have the lifestyle of a rock star, so the magazines in the office tell us. Everything you could want….” Nic was suddenly still, his fork paused on the plate. “Yeah. I guess that’s how it looks. Fun and indulgence galore. Feel like swapping, Aidan?” “What?” 66

Sparks Fly Nic shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. But it was an effort. He was damned tired, and worrying about the launch, and … oh, so many other things. He raised a rather bleak look to meet Aidan’s puzzled gaze. “It’s not quite the joy it seems to others. Oh, I know I shouldn’t be complaining! The fame and the money … it’s been good to me, and I’d not want to lose it all. But it’s been a bit of a strain recently. I feel rather – stretched, I guess. Yeah, stretched. Between what I want in my life and what the businesses want from me.” And other people, he thought. Yeah, that was almost worse. The stream of takers; the hollow invitations; the emptiness a person could feel in the middle of a room full of others. And still the pressure to smile, to give, to perform. Aidan stared back at him, surprised. Surely this wasn’t the Nic Gerrard that everyone knew? He spoke without thinking. “If it’s too much, why do you do it? Even Sparks – I’m surprised you’re still so involved. Why do you bother, when it’s just a business? You probably don’t need to be, it’s the most established. Especially with going public next week.” Nic was silent for a minute, buttering some toast. He looked back at Aidan, and this time his dark blue eyes were calm again. Aidan felt himself sinking into those sensual, dark pools of color. Eyes that were full of the man’s thoughts; full – Aidan suspected – of his heart. What sort of man was this, who was so successful in the cutthroat commercial world, but could still seem so open, so vulnerable? Was it all some kind of a trick, the Gerrard effect? “That’s where you’re wrong, Aidan. Don’t worry, it’s not just you – I don’t tell many people all of this. Sparks is not just a business to me – it was my first. I mean, people know that – but it was much more than just my first company. When I met Greg….” His voice trailed off for a moment, and he smiled ruefully at the memory. Aidan tried to speak but couldn’t think of anything to say. He didn’t know if Nic was about to launch into some kind of intimate confession. He didn’t know how he felt about that. Nic caught the flicker of discomfort in Aidan’s eyes. “Hey, no worries. I’m not here to talk about past friends. Greg was the 67

Clare London previous owner of Sparks, that’s all. He called it ‘Rapport’, did you know that? It never really got off the ground, but when he first started it up, he was damned fond of it, had all kinds of plans for it. That was the first time I discovered you could feel something for a business that was more than financial. That you should feel that, at least if you want it to succeed better than another – or if you want to get something far more personal out of it.” That’s what Greg had taught him, he realized, so much more than just the mechanics of business. The heart of it, too. “When he moved on, I was both proud and excited to take it over.” Nic smiled again, more to himself than to Aidan. “Like I said, it was my first – and maybe nowadays, the only business I care about. Does that shock you?” Aidan was silent, but it looked like he was listening carefully. “It’s the whole concept, do you see?” Nic continued, his toast forgotten for the moment. His voice was raised, full of a sudden passion. “It’s the joy of matching people successfully. It’s such a great idea that from the very first day, I wanted to do it really well. I wanted to make it work where other agencies have taken people’s money and worn away their dreams with complacency and carelessness and broken promises. If I think I can’t place someone, I’ll say so. But otherwise, I know there’ll be someone out there for everyone. And I want to be the one who gets nearest to that dream.” “Or achieves it,” said Aidan, quietly. He knew enough success stories from the office gossip. He was impressed with Nic’s enthusiasm for Sparks, almost despite himself. The man’s commitment shone through everything he said. “Yeah,” grinned Nic. His eyes were sparkling again, his good humor restored. “That's the greatest feeling of all! When someone calls back to say it’s gone well. That they’ve had the best date of their life. That they’re getting married!” “And for yourself?” Aidan bit back the words, but it was too late to stop them. “What do you mean?”

68

Sparks Fly “Your own desires. Dreams.” Seems like you don’t bother looking too closely into your own life, Aidan thought privately. “You spend all this time on others.” Nic flushed. Was Aidan really interested? “I’m okay. It’s not about me. I don’t need the help others do. I’m out and about and surrounded by great people, aren’t I? I should be able to find what I want for myself.” The rest was unspoken, but he thought it. That’s what should happen, but maybe it didn’t. Maybe he didn’t know what he wanted. And maybe he was just taking whatever was offered in the hope that he found his way eventually – even if accidentally – to something more rewarding. In everything he did for himself, he was making do. Nic had an unpleasantly nagging feeling that Aidan was thinking the same of him. “I know who I am, Aidan,” he said, rather brusquely. “I’ve spent many years getting where I am today, and I’m comfortable with that. I’m not going to compromise, you know? I am as I am, all the good and the bad. I’ll take my chances with other people’s opinion.” They were brave words and his voice sounded just a little too trite with them. He knew himself, and was brutally honest with himself. That was what he was proud of. But it didn’t always give him peaceful dreams. He looked at Aidan, and for a wild second he thought he saw understanding in the other man’s eyes. And something else; something naked and honest in its own way. It made his heart soar.

AFTER the plates were cleared away, Nic excused himself to go to the restroom, and for a while Aidan sat there, the remains of his coffee growing cold in the cup in front of him. His blank expression hid the growing turmoil inside of him. To his horror and misery, it seemed that the chill was back. The strange, insidious feeling that he first discovered when he joined Sparks. That grew steadily worse as he 69

Clare London spent longer and longer with Nic Gerrard. He’d thought it had passed, but now he was seeing more of the man again, and it was back. Back with a vengeance. And the feeling was pain. Be honest, said his mind’s voice, as it had many times before. He should follow Nic’s example; realize who he really was. What the pain really meant. The pain was being with Nic Gerrard! It’s a crush. It’s a fantasy. You need a vacation. Aidan berated himself with justification after justification, but the realization remained that he was drawn to Nic so seriously that it was affecting his health. All those months ago, as Nic Gerrard had seeped into more of his life than just the working hours, he’d been troubled with fractured sleep and a constant ache of frustration and humiliation. He’d struggled to suppress it, then to explain it away. Then to deny it existed. But the troubled dreams were back. For the last few weeks, he’d had difficulty sleeping again. He was concerned about the new work on Sparks, and recently the threat of the hacker – but that didn’t account for all of his body’s reactions. His flesh ached some nights in places that he thought he’d put on ice for an indefinite time. He would wake with his hand between his legs, a fierce erection clasped in his palm, his skin burning with goose bumps and desire. Only a swift, anguished climax relaxed him, and even then, the memory and fascination didn’t wash away with his deliberately cold morning shower. The thoughts of Nic Gerrard would still be with him, warm in spite of the chill water; the suggestion of the man’s hands on his body, washing him; the generous mouth laughing, but at something that he, Aidan, had said; the lithe body pressing against him, cajoling him back to bed, or maybe just to turn around, right here, right now…. Aidan knew he’d felt the attraction ever since they first met. What the hell was he doing, pretending it had been nothing? Sure, he’d escaped it for a while, when they ceased working together. All 70

Sparks Fly for the better, he’d told himself at the time, with disproportionate relief! But … now? Now it was all going to be stirred up again. It was already happening. I won’t give in to this, he told himself fiercely. He didn’t need it – those feelings had never served him anything but misery. He’d never had a personal relationship that had worked well to any reasonable degree. But then, he’d never felt quite this strongly about anyone before. So strongly that he seemed to burn when Nic was around. That his skin felt as if it were rubbed raw. That he remembered the thrill that could come from physical touch, not the betrayal and grief it had brought him before. His own body was a traitor. responding to?

And just who was that body

Nic Gerrard, everyone’s favorite entrepreneur. His employer. Nic, the playboy. Nic; the man who could – and did – have anyone he wanted. Aidan nearly groaned aloud. What the hell was he going to do?

NIC never got back to the table. As he stopped at the counter to pay for the breakfast, another couple of guys came in to eat. They were noisy, laughing loudly. It looked like they’d come from an all-nighter, and one of them was definitely still a little drunk. “Nic!” he called with delight on seeing him, and he lurched up eagerly to the counter as well. His friend looked around blearily, and slumped down in chair over by the door, as if bored with the day already. Aidan glanced up, his eyes following the moving man. He looked very young, almost a boy. Thin and blond. Weary with the look of too much drink and maybe drugs. There was a strange skittishness to his steps, his path weaving a little. “Haven’t seen you since Bennie’s gig, you said you’d call!” His voice was too loud for the quiet bar. He was laughing nervously, and his hands were suddenly all over Nic. Nic smiled gently as he lifted 71

Clare London one away from his waist, and he held the man back at arms’ length. But Aidan noticed that he wasn’t shocked by the attention. “I’ll be with you in a minute, Aidan,” Nic called, drawing the blond man away to the side. Aidan rose from his seat, and stood there watching. Nic and the boy talked quickly, with plenty of headshakes and hand waving from the blond. At one stage he gave a small wail, and tried to grab at Nic’s head. But Nic had turned away and was beckoning over one of the waiters by then. Aidan could see the frown on his face. He was obviously looking for some help to get the young man to leave. Then, at the last minute, the blond boy grasped at Nic’s shoulder, and twisted him back around so that Nic faced him again. Aidan saw the flash of anger on Nic’s face. Even as the waiter and chef reached the couple, and put a restraining hand on the boy’s arm, he pulled Nic’s face down and kissed him fully on the mouth. Nic let it ride for mere seconds, then he pulled himself away. “That’s enough, Jerry,” Aidan could hear Nic say, in a low, firm voice. “Go home. Find someone else, okay? I don’t want you coming after me again.” The boy flinched; his face crumpled. Then Nic deliberately turned his back. The conversation was over. The young man cursed, his voice muffled with what sounded like a sob, but he allowed the guys from the bar to draw him away. He and his friend stumbled out of the bar. Aidan stood stock still, examining the strange wave of emotion that shook through him after watching that scene. He remembered the comfort of the meal with Nic, the conversation that had – for him – been easier than with anyone else. It had been an oasis of pleasure that had begun to weaken him. Then he remembered the look on the other boy’s face, his pleasure at seeing Nic. A man he didn’t know, but obviously another of Nic’s friends. And he recalled Nic’s harsh dismissal of him. Why had Nic done that? Because he could, presumably.

72

Sparks Fly Aidan cursed himself – for in all this remembering, he’d forgotten to watch out for himself. This was all going to hurt him badly – he knew that, of course he did. The only choice he had was whether he hurt now or later.

AIDAN stood outside the bar as Nic came striding out after him. Nic looked relieved that Aidan was still there, but his expression turned to shock at Aidan’s next words. “How can you do that?” “Do what? What do you mean?” Aidan felt the constriction in his throat, so tight that he had to grind out some of his words. “Allow someone to touch you like that, then have them thrown out.” Nic looked bemused. “Dammit, Aidan, it was hardly throwing him out! He was just – he was out of line. Though I suppose it was only a kiss....” “You kiss strangers in bars a lot? Or let them kiss you?” Nic almost laughed aloud, this scene was farcical! “He’s not a stranger. He’s an acquaintance. Was an acquaintance.” Don’t be such an asshole, Aidan, he thought to himself. Why was the other man so upset about it? He knew nothing about the circumstances. “Leave it be.” “He was pretty glad to see you. I don’t see why that’s out of line.” Nic grimaced. “I don’t know what this is about. I don’t want to talk about it, is all.” “More than an acquaintance, I think. A friend?” Nic stared at Aidan. What the fuck was going on? Why was Aidan nagging away at this? He was tired, he needed a nap before he could get on with the day’s work, and the scene inside had upset him. But he didn’t see why it was any damned business of Aidan West! 73

Clare London It was months ago that he’d told the boy in the bar – Jerry – to give up his drugs; that he didn’t need that shit to enjoy his life. Nic had offered to help him, too, though their sexual relationship had been brief and transitory. He didn’t preach to his lovers – he had enough experience of life to have touched on recreational drugs himself, though they didn’t bother him now. But he’d had no idea how deeply Jerry was into it when he met him. The kid was bright and witty, but he was wasting a large part of his life in being high, rather than celebrating all the other things he could have been doing. Nic had wanted to help him out of it. But it looked like Jerry had ignored him. He protested that he still wanted Nic, that he wanted to be with him, but every time he engineered these ‘accidental’ meetings with Nic, it was just an excuse to insinuate himself back in with the party crowd that got him his supplies. Those weren’t Nic’s people, and never had been – Jerry was using Nic’s name to open doors, to get him what he wanted, a trick that Nic abhorred. He used to look at the boy and feel sad; he’d likely be wasted within years. But perhaps he was tired of being used by him, now – or perhaps it was just this morning. Whatever the reason, he didn’t want to be drawn back into Jerry’s strange, painful world any more, and he’d not let the boy come on to him any more. Enough was enough. And he didn’t need grief from Aidan as well! What was this guy on? “Okay, he was more than an acquaintance, if you want to know. But less than a friend.” “How do you measure that?” “What – you want to write a program for it?” Nic couldn’t believe the tone of his voice, the bickering in it, the hostility. But he couldn’t hold himself back. He could feel his anger rising in the face of Aidan’s aggression. “No, just interested.” “I knew him closely for a month or so.” “So … an acquaintance might be known – let’s say – for a week, a friend for much longer. People like that kid come somewhere in 74

Sparks Fly between. So let’s look at the other parameters. At what stage does the kiss come in? And how many weeks for a quick fuck? I assume that’s what he was?” Nic was shocked at the crude language from Aidan. He didn’t think he’d ever heard him swear much, and somehow it didn’t sit comfortably with him. He was amazed that his companion was disturbed enough to use it. The sidewalk was quiet outside the bar, there were very few people around at this time of the morning, and luckily none of them seemed interested in a sudden altercation between two young men. But Nic was damned angry, as well. What had happened to the comfortable mood of just a short while ago? “Jesus, Aidan, you are so damned offensive! How dare you talk to me like that?” Aidan felt something harden inside of him; a sharp spike of pain in his gut. “It’s an unforgivable abuse of people, Nic. You say you’re comfortable with yourself, but what about everyone else? You’re in the spotlight, it’s only natural that they come to you, but then you use them –” “What? What sort of guy do you think I am?” “Am I wrong?” Aidan’s face was flushed. He felt the pain again, and it was all mixed up with the anger. The destructive, whitehot anger that he knew would consume him; that would leave him panting and alone, and plunge him back into the maelstrom of his miserable, broken nights. “When they come fawning over you? Do you send them home before or after you’ve had your fun?” “If it’s offered, why not?” Nic snapped back. “They’re adults – they can make their own decisions, can’t they?” And that’s not what he meant to say, because it wasn’t strictly true, he did care about the people he came into contact with, but, boy, did he hate people who made him lose his temper! And Aidan was relentless. “That's your philosophy in life, is it? Take anything and everything that comes your way?” “Is this because you have a problem with me and guys? How dare you!” 75

Clare London “No – not that –” Aidan’s anger faltered for a second, but his words continued to spill out. He was sickeningly fearful of going too far – but he couldn’t stop himself. “I don’t care who you fuck. It’s your promiscuity that’s so disgusting.” Nic gasped. He couldn’t believe the bolt of pain that shot through him. “Who the fuck do you think you are, saying that? What if I am promiscuous? At least I’m connecting with people, not always hiding away behind a damned screen, judging things you have no real fucking knowledge of!” Aidan’s eyes flashed in anger. Nic couldn’t help himself, either, or his reaction to this man; he saw the gold glints inside the deep brown irises, and he felt a rush of fury to his brain, of desire to his groin – he’d never known such conflict inside himself. Aidan’s sharp voice cut through all of it, harsh and low. “Connecting? That’s what you call it? Fucking everything in sight?” “Don’t knock it 'til you’ve tried it!” Aidan drew a deep breath, but it didn’t calm him at all. “So you say I should try it?” “Maybe you should, then you wouldn’t be so fucking holier than thou –” Nic’s next words were lost as his breath was crushed under Aidan’s hands, hands that pressed hard on his chest, pushing him back against the wall. He was shocked at Aidan’s strength – the muscles he’d guessed at under the shirt were tight and perfectly controlled. Aidan bent his arm across Nic’s chest, forcing him back against the cold brick, and the other hand gripped his chin. And then he kissed him. It wasn’t just a kiss – it was like a declaration of war! Nic didn’t know how someone could kiss so passionately and yet so damned aggressively! He was paralyzed, and for that moment, totally submissive. The whole smell, the whole feel of Aidan was suddenly swamping him, his face pressed against Nic’s, the mouth moist and sweet but hard at the same time, his tongue forcing through Nic’s shocked lips, to probe at his own, to run fiercely around inside his 76

Sparks Fly mouth, seeking out the corners, the curves, the taste. Aidan’s hand moved from his chin and gripped him by the shoulder, hard. The other hand released the hold on Nic’s chest and thrust behind his neck, tangling into his hair, tugging Nic’s head forward into Aidan’s embrace. Nic could do nothing but respond. Fuck, he wanted to do nothing but respond. He’d never had a kiss like it, from man or woman! Almost shamefully, he felt his erection pressing hard against his leg, and knew that Aidan would feel it too. He felt an answering pressure from the other man’s thighs, but before he could find out if Aidan was as aroused as he was, the invading mouth wrenched away. “Jesus…” gasped Nic. The movement of his fingers to his lips was completely unconscious. He thanked God he was still propped against the wall, doubting his legs would hold him up otherwise. His cock was swelling and aching beyond belief, straining against the front of his pants. Aidan’s gaze darted down to Nic’s groin then back up to his face. “You want to fuck me?” he hissed. His lips were swelled with the kiss, his eyes bright like ice in sunlight. Like a reflection in a sharpened knife, Nic thought, his mind still reeling. Aidan stepped back, away from Nic, swaying slightly. Nic’s voice wouldn’t work, though he knew that his body screamed its own answer. Aidan never gave him any chance to reply, anyway. “You do, don’t you? Well, why wouldn’t you? I’m just another employee to you, another body, another consumable! But you can just get over it. Because – unlike all those other bodies – I don’t want to fuck you!” Aidan was very pale and shaking, as if he wasn’t quite sure of his control – Nic could see a tremor in the pulse at his throat. He turned around abruptly and started to walk away. Nic watched him in complete, stunned amazement; the straight back, the finely shaped legs, the most perfect ass he’d ever seen … and the fists, clenched so tightly at Aidan’s sides that the knuckles were white. 77

Clare London Nic stood slumped against the wall, gulping in the early morning air like a drowning man and trying to calm his racing heartbeat. And what the hell had all that meant?

78

Sparks Fly

“NIC, you’re not yourself.” “What the hell –?” It was Charlie’s voice, calling to him gently, his assistant waving a hand aimlessly in front of Nic’s face. Charlie was sitting on the edge of Nic’s desk, a very casual approach that Nic didn’t usually encourage. He glared up at Charlie and the other man slipped off his perch quickly. Nic glanced down at the papers in front of him and realized he’d signed his name three times over on the one document … and all in the wrong place. He had no memory of any of it. “What is it, distracting you like this, for days now? Who is it?” Charlie gave an exaggerated sigh. “Is it that systems guy West you’ve been hanging around with again?” Nic didn’t think Charlie had that much perception to him. Still, he was with Nic every day … and some nights. Maybe he had noticed something that even he, Nic, wasn’t aware of. Nic didn’t dare answer. His heart was hammering at his chest and he couldn’t let it out. Shit, he hadn’t felt so confused for years! “Nic, do you hear me?” A rather sly look came into Charlie’s eyes, and he lowered his voice. They were alone in the office with no one else nearby. “Are you interested in him?” Nic frowned. “Shut up, Charlie.” 79

Clare London Charlie ignored him. “This guy – do you want to know what I know about him?” Nic shook his head forcefully, but his mouth said, “Yes.” Charlie hitched himself comfortably back up onto the edge of the desk again, settling in for a gossip. “He lives for his work, I’d say. The systems team think he’s God come to earth, laptop in hand, but show him the same fearful awe they’d offer the real deal. He keeps to himself, never talks about his apartment or his hobbies, or even his family. Seems to exist in a world of his own and no one else has the security code. We’ve never seen him with anyone, girl or guy, and he avoids any of the banter in the restroom.” Charlie glanced at Nic and grinned. “Men’s or women’s. But no one dislikes him, either, they just find him difficult to get on with. He contributes to the office lottery, stands his turn at the coffee machine when he’s in, all those office team domestic things. But otherwise – no encouragement given. Patti lusts over him like he’s some kind of chocolate fudge cake. But he’s very smart at avoiding her. He’s not joined in anything social for at least a year.” Since the initial development of the Sparks software ended, he added to himself, silently. Since he stopped working with you. Charlie saw most of what went on in the office, whether he shared it with anyone or kept it to himself. And most certainly anything to do with Nic. “Never seen him with anyone? Not … never been interested in anyone –?” Nic’s voice was hoarse with need, but he thought he hid it well. Charlie heard it all, though, especially the things that weren’t being said. Despite his provocation of Nic, he was startled at the other man’s insistence. “Some guy from Data Processing tried to hit on him in the office after last year’s Christmas lunch and he went ballistic. Nearly broke the man’s wrist, though they somehow sorted it out between themselves afterwards. There was no complaint filed. I took it on myself to have a quiet word with the guy, but he swore there was no suggestion of anyone filing for sexual harassment or anything, though I guess he’d have been the one on the hook for the harassment if so. No, it was just that West didn’t like being groped and removed the guy’s hand out of his crotch rather too forcefully. There’s no lasting 80

Sparks Fly ill-will between them that I can see. You want to know anything else?” Bank details, employment history, color of underwear … thought Charlie, dryly. He could discover them all, with the right motivation. Nic shook his head, and this time both his pride and his mouth said, “No.” Charlie put his hand on his employer’s shoulder. “Looks like he’s not in the market, I’m afraid. Looks like he doesn’t do guys at all.” “I don’t – it’s not that – ” Nic couldn’t finish a sentence. Instead, he sank his head into his hands. “Hey, cheer up!” laughed Charlie, totally misjudging the extent of Nic’s distress. “What do you care that he’s missing out? After all, you’ll do anyone, won’t you?”

NIC tossed restlessly on his bed all night. The late night film didn’t distract him, the half bottle of scotch didn’t drug him. And he didn’t want anything else. Just Aidan. Dear God. He gave up trying to sleep and sat up, slinging his legs over the edge of the mattress. He was wearing nothing but his boxers, but there was still a fine sheen of sweat all over his skin. Sighing, he went to make himself a cup of hot chocolate. There weren’t really any cooking facilities in the hotel suite, and if he didn’t want to go out to eat he usually ordered from the hotel kitchen, or Charlie brought something in for him. But the one thing he’d insisted on was the means to make his favorite drink. He sat back down on the bed with it and tried to calm himself. It was warm and steamed on his cheeks when he sipped, and had the sweet comfort factor that usually soothed him. But not tonight. Nic tried to remember the last time he’d felt this way. His misery sounded like some lovesick teenager, moping over a crush, and 81

Clare London he tried to laugh at himself. Hell, there’d been plenty of times he lusted after someone – a smile had intrigued him; a body had excited him; an adoring look had warmed him. But it bore no comparison to the agony inside him now. When he thought of Aidan it wasn’t with a pleasant frisson of sexual excitement and a sense of mischief, the measures of his previous relationships. He’d always enjoyed the chase for a new lover – who didn’t? – but now the distance between them was a torment, not a game. The other man inspired all the wrong things in him – anger, frustration, provocation, argument. Dammit, he shouldn’t be feeling need as well! But he was. He put the empty mug back on the side table and stretched back out on the bed. Time for some of that infamous truth that he so prided himself on. Nic realized he’d allowed a sense of complacency to slip into his life. The struggles in his early life had been tough and had strengthened his determination, sure. But then the last couple of years had been a whirl of excitement and success and pride and pleasure … during which, he’d lost that edge. Fuck, he’d come to believe in his own hype. Now he’d met a man who ignored the whole fame and charm thing, and just saw Nic Gerrard the man. And didn’t like him much. It shouldn’t matter, he told himself. He did his best with the life he’d been given and he wasn’t going to make excuses for how he was. There were always going to be people he couldn’t reach; couldn’t win over. People like Aidan West. They were just employer and employee, after all. There were plenty of other Gerrard fans to entertain him. It shouldn’t matter. Dear God, but it did. He rolled over on to his side, groaning aloud. It was as if Aidan was there in the room with him, scowling at him. Charlie had said “he doesn’t do guys”, so what had that kiss been? The best fucking tongue massage you’ve ever had, groaned his inner voice. The lustful one. Nic couldn’t help himself reacting – his 82

Sparks Fly cock throbbed beneath his boxers, swelling with the memory of Aidan’s mouth on his, Aidan’s hand gripping at the back of his neck. The other man’s angry, insulting words still rang in Nic’s ears, but he slid his hand down inside the silk and palmed himself. He flinched as his fingers curled around his cock: the flesh was so sensitive. He stroked very gently, but he knew he wouldn’t be holding back the climax for long. What had Aidan meant by it? It hadn’t seemed premeditated, hadn’t seemed malicious. Could it have been a rare loss of control by a man who tried not to let his desires show? Nic was sure Aidan had enjoyed it as much as he did. The passion he’d put into it … the need Nic thought he’d felt and tasted…. Nah, said the voice again. He baited you and you let him – he was jerking you around! He despises you. It was a demonstration…. Yeah … thought Nic. But of what? Just a demonstration of how much he hated Nic and his lifestyle? He moaned aloud in the solitary apartment, the gentle pumping of his dick sending shudders throughout his whole body. He wanted Aidan’s kiss to be something else; he wanted it to be more than just spite. He wanted Aidan to see more in Nic than just the playboy, just the easy lover. He wanted … he wanted…. Nic gasped aloud as his climax wracked him, the come spurting from his cock and soaking both his hand and the sheets beneath him. His back arched and he bit his lip to stop crying out, though there was no one in the deserted corridor outside to hear him. He had virtually the whole hotel floor to call his own, to cry out his need and his satisfaction in perfect isolation. He lay for a moment, catching his breath, feeling his limbs shake and his cock start to shrink back to size. The come cooled on his skin, thick and sticky. Fuck, he thought, angry with himself. It was a long time since he’d shouted out a guy’s name when he came, but that’s what he’d wanted to do. And the guy wasn’t even there in the room with him.

83

Clare London He struggled up again to go and wash up in the bathroom. He knew he wasn’t going to get any sleep that night, whatever he did. You’d better believe it.

THE night was dark and the systems room at Sparks was locked for the night. But not to everyone. The secret watcher had been dipping into the system for hours now. There had been a certain degree of frustration tonight. “It’s good,” breathed the anonymous watcher. “Your protection is damned good, Mr. Engineer. Thinking you can shut it down and I’ll go away – but you have to power up again some time. I’ll work through it. And in the end, your talents will work for me, whether you like it or not, instead of that arrogant bastard who dangles you all so obediently, expecting you at his beck and call, always to his timetable. Playing his cruel games on us all.” The computer gave a gentle hiccup and the stream of data sped up, running through information on the screen, blinking white at the prompt. “Oh, Mr. Gerrard,” the creature breathed pure venom. “Let’s see what happens after that precious launch of yours when your real secrets are out – and in my hands!”

AIDAN opened his door to the sharp knock, expecting a delivery of technical manuals – they only delivered at the crack of dawn – and instead he found Nic Gerrard, leaning against the wall and looking a little sheepish. Aidan took a breath. The sight of this tall, rangy man, dressed as smartly as he ever did for the office, yet with an almost nervous expression that made him seem boyish – it sent entirely the wrong signals through his traitorous body. Shit, would he ever shake this off? “What are you doing here?”

84

Sparks Fly Nic’s eyes flickered over Aidan’s body, down from his unbrushed, unruly hair to the spread of his muscled chest, bare except for a towel slung around his shoulders, and further down to the wellworn sweat pants hanging loosely at his hips. They dipped a little at the waistband, hugging a tight, smooth navel. Nic’s eyes lingered there too long, he was sure, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away. The skin on Aidan’s belly was pale, dusted with a thin trail of dark hairs all the way down…. Aidan made sure he caught Nic’s gaze when it darted up guiltily from its examination of his body. He stared him out, though not without thanking God he’d put the pants on only ten minutes ago. Nic grimaced. “You won’t believe I was just passing, will you?” Aidan found himself leaning forward to catch the words from the voice he’d quarantined himself against for days. Obviously unsuccessfully. “You know I won’t. Like this very retro neighborhood is on its way up; like you’re looking for property here to celebrate your rich and famous lifestyle….” Nic ignored the sarcasm. “You haven’t been in to work. I thought there might be something wrong.” Aidan frowned. “I can work remotely, you know.” “Ahh, yes,” Nic shrugged. “Seems I forgot. How were the reports about the hacker’s trail?” Aidan glared at him, suspiciously. Did he know? Know that Aidan was no further along, after all that work? He’d produced reams of reports, thousands of ghost trails through the system, but none that showed any significant pattern, none that shouted 'hacker!' to him yet. He was a fool to have thought it’d be that easy. He needed help, but he wouldn’t admit it – not to Nic Gerrard. He’d find someone else to discuss it with. “Uh-huh. I’ll report in later. By e-mail.” Nic ignored the rudeness, too. He was getting plenty of practice at it. “It’s the market launch celebration on Friday. Day after tomorrow. Will you tear yourself away from your four walls for that?” “Why am I needed there? Want to show off your pet geek?” 85

Clare London Nic bit his tongue so hard he thought he might have drawn blood. He’d wandered the office for a long time, waiting for word from Aidan, until Charlie had rolled his eyes and told him to go home, he was distracting everyone else. For another hour or so, Nic had wondered whether Aidan’s anger might actually make him leave Sparks, and what the hell he, Nic, would do if he did. And whether he was equally pissed at a guy who couldn’t handle life in the real world, or whether he just wanted to grab the man and shout at him to listen, and then kiss him, kiss him so fucking hard his head spun, just like he’d done to Nic…. Then he’d swallowed his pride, looked up the personnel records and gone to find Aidan’s apartment. And now what? Now he had those dark eyes glaring at him again. Aidan West was the most aggressive, rude, paranoid, son of a – “No,” he snapped. “It’s nothing like that. You deserve credit for your work. All the team will be there. It’s churlish to cut yourself off from them like this.” Aidan couldn’t help himself; he gazed at Nic’s mouth. Remembered the feel of it. Felt the instinctive, answering ache in his groin. He wanted to reach out and slide his hand around the man’s neck, pull him into the room, feel that mouth again under his…. This was going badly – very badly. He had to get Nic Gerrard away from here. Fast! He used the only weapon he had, his bad temper. “Churlish, you say? You recognize that, then, do you?” “Damned right I do!” The temperature was rising already, and Aidan hadn’t budged from the doorway. Nic was still standing in the hallway, tension throughout his whole body. “Admit it,” sneered Aidan. “You’re the one who’s behaving badly. You think I’m sulking.” “What the hell?” “It’s all about you, about what you think, right? You think I’m letting the whole team down, because I might not make it to your party. That I might not be interested in your life of media indulgence.” 86

Sparks Fly “What’s up with you?” Nic’s eyes were narrow, his lips tight. “You’re interested enough to know I’m not here just for the fun of it.” Aidan shook his head, frowning back. “You think I must be upset just because you hit on me and I was stupid enough to refuse you.” Nic’s eyes widened again. “I didn’t hit on you!” “But you were going to. Right?” Aidan had barely enough time to lean away from Nic’s angry yell of reply. His eyes blazed, and his hand slammed against the door frame, inches from Aidan’s ear. Aidan winced. “You arrogant prick! As if I’d be interested in a guy like you, as if I had some kind of death wish!” Aidan swallowed back the nausea that rose up in him at that. “So you’re here for … remind me?” Nic had never known such fury. “Maybe to remind you that you’re the one who thrust his tongue down my throat!” Both angry voices stopped, both of the men shocked at the sudden, graphic memory. Nic watched the expression in Aidan’s eyes, a strange, unexpected mixture of fury and anguish that startled him. In return, Aidan couldn’t take his eyes from the throbbing pulse at Nic’s neck, an outward sign of how disturbed the other man was. He didn’t know why Nic was so bothered – why he’d felt the need to chase him to his own apartment. Why Nic gave a shit about an employee who was obviously more trouble than he was worth. But he wouldn’t – couldn’t – give way. “You won’t come in, then?” mocked Aidan, his voice a pastiche of Nic’s earlier charming ruefulness. He couldn’t have stopped this ridiculous confrontation if his life depended on it. But as he snapped at Nic, he saw the pain he was causing and he despised himself.

87

Clare London Nic was panting slightly, regaining control of himself. “I’ve got a company going public in a couple of days’ time, West, I don’t need your hostility issues on top of that. Forgive me for bothering you.” “Fine by me. It’s not like I sent out a call for reinforcements. I don’t need anything from you.” Nic had already turned to go, his face red with anger. But he turned back at the last second, as Aidan was pulling the door closed on him. “The party?” He watched as Aidan shrugged that exasperating shrug, the one that made Nic want to grab him and shake him. His hands burned at the thought and he thrust them into his pockets. “I want to know if you’re coming.” “I might be there. I don’t know. I have more work to do on finding the hacker.” Aidan couldn’t say any more about it now. Maybe never. The last thing on his mind was a corporate party full of suits and press and the celebration of yet another Gerrard success. He ignored the fact that it was partly his, too. Instead, he stared at Nic, challenging him to leave. “You'd better get back to your life of riotous fun and indulgence, eh?” Nic looked at the quiet, narrow hallway around him, then pointedly back at Aidan’s front door and the bleak apartment beyond. “Enjoy yours!” he hissed, vindictively. And this time, it was he who turned and left.

AIDAN stood in his apartment doorway, unmoving, even after he heard the slamming of the main door of the building, and heard Nic’s car speeding off. He’d been planning to go into the office that day, after the delivery came. He needed to find some more technical references; he needed to talk to his colleagues. Call up some expert friends. And you wanted to see Nic, didn’t you? hissed his inner voice.

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Sparks Fly Well, I did that already, didn’t I? he answered himself, ruefully. Saw him and spat at him and effectively chased him off. Great work, right? He wasn’t sure how he could feel any more wretched than he already did. The guy affected him so strongly he lost complete control of himself when Nic was there. The words he spoke sounded alien – his attitude was aggressive, his body tense where before it might have been more relaxed. Things were getting worse, not better. He’d planned to go in because he’d been thinking how to face Nic again – what to say. He had no idea how he might have apologized for his behavior outside the bar the other morning. He had no idea whether he even wanted to. The memory of Nic’s mouth was so vivid that Aidan believed it had burned his skin somehow. He’d been in the shower just an hour before Nic knocked at his door, keeping the water as cold as he possibly could. But it hadn’t been enough to shake off another night of disturbed sleep and unwelcome, sensual dreams. And then suddenly the man he dreamed about so cruelly had actually been there, in front of him, the easy smile turned on him, the words directed at him, the dark eyes traveling up and down his body. He’d slipped back into confusion, immediately and irretrievably. And he was the main culprit this time. What had he been thinking of, kissing Nic like that, surrendering to complete and utter madness for the sake of a moment’s desperate passion? Touching that flesh – tangling in that hair – gazing into those eyes? Aidan groaned aloud, slumping back against the door frame. Nic’s blue eyes had become the color of his own, personal nightmare.

HALF an hour later, a harassed delivery guy struggled up the stairs to Aidan’s apartment with the anticipated parcel of manuals and found his customer standing at his door, almost as if he’d been waiting for him. A tall, dark haired guy in just his sweats, with a strangely blank 89

Clare London look on his face. He looked as if he’d been there for a while, and was momentarily confused when the clipboard was thrust under his nose for a signature. The expression turned quickly to a glower. The delivery guy shuffled the completed paperwork nervously, and bounded away down the stairs as swiftly as he could. He heard the door slam shut to the apartment behind him. Guess the guy had given up his vigil in the end.

“ONE more day to go until the launch,” smiled Charlie. “You’re going to be the toast of the town!” He was there at Nic’s side, as they went into Nic’s apartment suite that night, Charlie carrying a pile of papers that Nic hadn’t been able to concentrate on in the office. Nic turned to see Charlie out, but the dark-haired man was a lot closer than he’d imagined. So close that Nic could see the spark in his dark, slow eyes, feel the heat in his fingers as they slipped Nic’s jacket off his shoulders. “No, Charlie. Not tonight.” “No what, Nic? No friendly comfort? No company for a little while? Surely not … I know that look on your face. It’s been a shit of a day for you.” He was pressing Nic back on to the couch, slipping the top button of his shirt almost before he noticed, sliding on to the deep, padded seat beside him. His fingers vanished under the silk and began kneading insistently at Nic’s knotted shoulder muscles. “No. I want to go to bed.” “Works for me,” replied Charlie, smugly. Nic had the energy for a tired smile. “Not with anyone, Charlie. Just me. Just to sleep. I don’t think I’ve done enough of that recently.” “Come on, you want to, you know you do.” Charlie’s voice was insidious, arrogant in its confidence. “You can fuck me tonight if you like.” His hands were sliding down inside the shirt, roaming over 90

Sparks Fly Nic’s back, down over the tight muscles, the bony spine. Charlie knew his own cock was already hard, already eager. It had been that way ever since he stepped through that door. The sight of Nic Gerrard relaxing in his own surroundings always did that to him. Yes, he’d let Nic fuck him, then maybe he’d return the favor. Or not. Charlie never knew exactly what they might end up doing. That’s what made it all so exciting. “I don’t want to.” Charlie ignored him. It was just so alien to hear that. Nic was nothing if not pliant. He might protest a little sometimes, but he always surrendered for the sake of fun. “Yes, you do. Let me suck you off … let me hold you, slick up your cock inside my mouth….” He was panting now, rubbing his own leg against Nic, fingers on their way into his pants. “Touch me, Nic – touch my cock, just a little, do whatever you like –” “I’m not allowed a choice in this?” Nic’s voice had turned cold. Charlie didn’t heed the warning. He was too far gone now. His voice was thick with lust and with need. Nic realized suddenly, with a sinking heart, what a cruel, symbiotic relationship he’d allowed to develop. Christ, was he comatose for large stretches of his life? Was he blind to the people around him? Was Aidan right about him? “Tell you what,” Charlie whispered, trying to relax Nic with what he thought would be mischievous humor. “You close your eyes, I’ll make noises like a laptop, and you can imagine you’re fucking him –” And that did it. Nic took Charlie’s arms, unfolded them from his chest, and pushed him away. “Get out. Go, Charlie. Now.” Charlie sat back, staring rather stupidly, slumped against the arm of the couch. His shirt was untucked and he’d already started to unzip his pants. He looked flushed and more than a little ridiculous. “Nic, wait, you don’t know what you’re saying.” 91

Clare London “No. No. I won’t say it again.” Nic took a deep breath, trying to stop the words from sticking around the lump in his throat. “I don’t want to fuck you, God help me, and don’t make me be any more cruel than that. I really don’t want to be. I like you, Charlie.” Charlie stared at him, bemused. “Just because you want that nerd, doesn’t mean you can’t have any fun –” “Charlie, you’re out of line. Way out of line!” Nic had raised his voice and he saw Charlie flinch. “Get out before I call security.” Charlie colored deeply, finally realizing that something significant had changed between him and his boss. He knew that dangerous look in Nic’s eyes – but it had never been turned on him before. It was only the thought of jeopardizing his job as well as his sex life that stopped him from arguing any more. “Nic, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you….” Nic sighed. He looked totally exhausted, and his expression started to soften. Charlie stared back at him, the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen, let alone fucked. And for perhaps the first time, he saw him as just a man like him. A fabulous one, but a miserable one. A weary one. God, thought Charlie, a little shakily. What have I been doing to him? “Go home, Charlie.” Nic’s voice was low again. “I understand; it’s as much my fault as yours. But things have got to change – and this is where it starts.”

AIDAN sat for long hours into the early morning and watched rows and rows of data blinking at him. Mocking him. He’d worked furiously, intensely, for most of that time. He was logged into Sparks remotely, but was so engrossed in his work it was unlikely he even registered he was still in his apartment. He’d been remapping the routes through the system, trying to draw any would-be hacker away from the core and into the relatively insulated test system. But he’d come to the end of the work he could do from home. Now he had to 92

Sparks Fly seek the expert help he needed. Soon. Honestly, he told himself, he would. He cursed for maybe the twentieth time the fact that he didn’t have all the documentation at home. Any seeking of help, or further investigation would have to be done from the office. And he couldn’t afford to waste any valuable time. Surely his desire to catch the hacker was more important than any embarrassment he might feel … wasn’t it? He’d have to face things at some stage or other. Face Nic. The launch party was the following night, he knew that. He could imagine what it’d be like in the office today, the phones ringing, the press of reporters in the lobby. The whole place would be full of the excitement, the anticipation. He groaned at the thought. Soon. He’d go back in soon. Drinking some of the juice he had beside him, he browsed idly through a subsidiary database that he’d not noticed before. It was cushioned in between two unnecessarily complex accounting packages in the directory list. He wasn’t sure what caught his eye, but it was probably the name – the Rapport Trust. He immediately thought of Nic, and what he’d told Aidan about his first introduction to Sparks. The name was a coincidence, that was all. He just couldn’t get the damned man off his mind. But as he dipped in, aimlessly – the access security was never going to be strong enough to keep him out – he realized that it was, indeed, something of Nic’s. Some work had been done in the folders over a year ago, although it hadn’t been updated since. After that, the trail led back to Nic’s personal directory. Maybe he’d transferred it over since then, maybe these entries had been nothing more than an initial draft. Aidan read through very carefully, his surprise increasing by the second. It was something he’d never have expected Nic Gerrard to be involved in – or perhaps he should have, if his mind had been less clouded with the complex, conflicting feelings he had for the man himself. He scrolled through a mission statement, through a set of business objectives for the next five years. Then a selection of Minutes, chronicling the set up of this Trust, and its aims and desires – 93

Clare London and the controlling force throughout it all was most definitely and clearly Nic Gerrard himself. “Shit!” he said aloud. He’d not been so shocked for a long time. Shocked at an insight to Nic that he’d never have otherwise imagined. Though it seemed it had always been there for him to see. When he looked more closely, the records showed the Trust had been established for over two years, even before Nic came into his wealth and fame. He assumed that Nic had known his friend Greg at that time, and that’s where the name had come from. Aidan blinked, hard. He’d been blind to everything. Not interested. Obsessed with his own judgments. His preconceptions of the Gerrard effect. He had both misjudged and misunderstood Nic, through his own stubbornness. Idiot … he scolded himself. There was a tightness in his chest; a strange kind of distress. He’d been wrong about so many things, though he had no idea what to do about it now. Did he? Sighing, he put down the juice and pulled himself out of his chair to go shower and change.

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Sparks Fly

“WHAT a success, eh?” laughed a passing attorney’s clerk. The large function room of the Plaza Hotel – the city’s finest – was full of guests and babbling conversation, so that only the occasional words sprang out. “More champagne…?” murmured a waiter. “…heard he was planning something in the adventure vacation market…” muttered a group of investment bankers. “…Scorsese’s bringing him the script next week, you know who’s tipped to play him?…” “…only black silk, no, I’m not kidding, that’s what they say…” “…forty two million, I know, the percentage would be ridiculous…” “…they want his face on every jar of chocolate, they say it’s his favorite drink…” Amanda Bradnam leaned back against the far wall, scowling as a crowd of journalists from a rival newspaper pushed past her to get closer to the front. Her photographer winced as another couple of over-eager youngsters trod on his feet again. “There’ll be no exclusives at this rate, the number of damned hacks around.” Her tone was venomous. 95

Clare London Nic Gerrard was, indeed, the toast of the town, just as Charlie had predicted. The launch speech had flowed from his tongue, the audience had laughed, gasped and applauded at all the appropriate times. Cameras had flashed like miniature explosions; interviews had been begged and arranged with Charlie and his team. Champagne had flowed, like a blessed, sparkling river for the guests. Rather more important to him than pleasing all the hangers-on, Nic had managed several encouraging conversations with the venture capitalists and the new institutional shareholders, and he was personally reassured that the underlying deal had been as successful as he’d hoped. He raised a silent toast to his original partner, and the share package that he’d set aside for Greg as a gift of both recognition and reward. He’d be glad to pass on the good fortune to the man who’d helped him get where he was today – that is, as soon as one of the private investigators he’d hired found the damned guy. Greg’s last known address was somewhere in the outback, or so a scribbled postcard had said, a couple of months ago. His eyes roamed the crowd, working it in the way he did best, smiling genially, nodding to the heads that turned his way every time he passed. He’d stop briefly to chat or laugh, but his eyes continued to move on, searching for something in particular. And then he saw Aidan West. He was here! Nic felt his heart racing, which was – of course – fucking ridiculous. After all, there were plenty of other staff members here, chatting happily with reporters, enjoying the day’s celebrations and the success that their work had helped to achieve. He’d invited everyone and anyone, there was no preferential treatment at Sparks. But Aidan was here! Nic felt a stupid grin creep over his face, and he started to work his way over to that side of the room. The tables in the center had been moved back after the buffet meal, to allow people to mingle, but there was still an obstacle course of guests and waiters and precariously balanced glasses of champagne. He could see that Aidan was pressed back against a wall, nursing a glass still three quarters full, and giving no comment whatsoever to a persistent reporter. Nic sighed to himself when he saw that it was 96

Sparks Fly Amanda. Damned woman never gave up! He struggled into a large group of PR agents, roaring with laughter and already too full of free alcohol. He was unusually forceful as he pushed his way through.

THOUGH Nic would never have known it, Aidan was watching him in return. Amanda thought he was scowling, but the expression actually enabled him to look up through his veiled lids at the man approaching. Aidan had dragged on a dress shirt for the evening, one reasonably ironed, though he drew the line at a tie. Dammit, he didn’t even own one! But when he saw Nic Gerrard in his beautifully cut suit, jacket swinging from his shoulders and pants hugging tight to his hips, he realized how inferior he must look. And he understood with a hot, blinding clarity why people parted around Nic as he walked, why both women and men turned their gaze to eat up the sight of him. He could still hear the relentless voice at his side. “Mr. – North, was it? – I’m sure you have some more information on this new product development that Nic was hinting at in his speech, you work for him, don’t you? Wouldn’t you like to see your name in the papers tomorrow, alongside his? I can give you an exclusive chance for your fifteen minutes of fame, that’s my by-line, you know….” Aidan turned a look of such burning amazement and hostility on Amanda that – for almost the first time in her career – she was rendered temporarily speechless. “Amanda!” Nic was there beside him now, turning sharp eyes on to the reporter, daring her to bother him. “Nic.” She nodded back at him, her eyes brightening again. They hadn’t spoken since the night in the hotel room. Nic had left her to sleep it off, pulling his clothes back on with alarming eagerness and leaving the hotel under cover of a group of chattering Japanese businessmen. He hadn’t needed to tell Charlie to screen all future calls from her – though, in fact, there’d been fewer than he’d expected. 97

Clare London “This is work,” she snapped, looking between him and Aidan. “You support the freedom of the press, don’t you? And I’m sure you could use the publicity….” Nic moved smoothly and swiftly, putting himself between her and Aidan, yet with his public smile still in place. “What I could actually use is a little time with my guy, okay? I think my assistant, Charlie – ah, I see you know him already – he has some introductions you might find more rewarding.” He lifted a hand only slightly and Charlie was there, on duty as he had been all evening, smiling insincerely and offering to lead her away. Behind her back, he glared at Nic, who smiled back sweetly as if he had no idea what punishment he was dishing out to his devoted assistant. Charlie also looked at Aidan over Nic’s shoulder, and their eyes met briefly. Charlie looked away first. Nic turned to Aidan, looking at his outfit with a mixture of surprise and approval. “Glad you came.” “Statement or question?” Nic sighed. He didn’t think anything would ever be easy with this man. “Statement, Aidan. I’m glad that you came. I suppose it’d be too much to ask if you’re enjoying yourself.” “It’s not my sort of thing,” said Aidan, grudgingly. “Then I’m even more glad you bothered,” said Nic, very quietly. Aidan realized how close he was – their arms virtually touching – but he couldn’t move back any further. His own fault for skulking away against a wall, in his usual antisocial manner. He met Nic’s eyes and saw the genuine welcome there. Wondered how he could be like that, when only a day or so ago Aidan had shouted at him to get lost. Had been appallingly rude, in fact. Not a wise move, with your employer! Or with a man you wanted to … well, that thought could make itself scarce. “Why did you come?” murmured Nic. Even in the middle of this crowded room, with music blaring overhead, raucous laughter and chat, and the nagging of reporters – even with all that, Aidan felt that 98

Sparks Fly they were the only two people there. He could feel the heat from Nic’s slightly flushed face; smell his cologne. It made his head swim. He deposited his wine glass on a passing tray; he had no interest in it anyway. It had nothing to do with the fact his hand was shaking. “I came to see … to see if it was a success, of course. I wanted to check that you gave proper credit to the IT team.” Nic smiled, obviously taking that as the weak joke that it was. Aidan wondered if he realized that he was leaning into him. He could hear him perfectly well, he didn’t need Nic’s mouth so close to his left ear. “And did you hear – or see – what you wanted?” “I saw … yes, I did see those things. And perhaps I also saw –” he paused, tearing his eyes away from the moving lips beside him. “I also saw some of the stretching that you described. That you said you suffer.” “Me?” Nic’s eyes widened in surprise. You’re thinking about me? His hand touched at Aidan’s sleeve, tentatively. “The people here, Nic – the press, the lawyers, even the staff. All calling for you, all needing you. How do you stand it?” The noise, the heat, the demanding bodies – Aidan hated it, and knew he wouldn’t stay much longer. But he’d felt obliged to come, to see Nic, and to see how the man looked to him, after what he’d learned from the hidden files. Perhaps to talk to Nic about it. Aidan knew that something had changed his attitude toward Nic Gerrard. He was very confused, and he disliked the feeling intensely. But back in this party context, Aidan thought Nic seemed to be in his element. He could hear people calling his name, and see Charlie waving impatiently from the other side of the room. There was a small podium set up at one end of the room and the lights above it had been brightened, as if they were expecting Nic to speak again. That hideous reporter woman was staring at them from beside the function room bar, where she and Charlie had parted with mutual relief.

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Clare London Nic was staring at him, too, with astonishment. “It’s what I’m used to, I suppose. I shouldn’t have gone on like that to you, it’s not so bad….” “Yes it is. You’re just on automatic pilot,” Aidan interrupted, gruffly. Maybe Nic hadn’t seen the strain on his own face; the glaze in his eyes; the tension in his body. Aidan felt the brush of that body again, as some more people drew up in front of them. His own limbs shivered. It was a group of the office staff, clustering around the pair of them, wanting to draw Nic away from him with barely a notice. “Autographs, love –” “Another champagne toast!” “I want to be in the picture with him, can I? Can I?” Nic’s mouth opened as if to speak and his look to Aidan was almost pleading. “Wait…” he may have mouthed, though no one could have been expected to hear him clearly over the racket. And then he’d gone, with just the echo of the excited voices trailing behind him.

AIDAN was struggling with a selection of coats, all tightly packed on the rail in the main cloakroom and none of which seemed to be his. The door opened behind him and the noise from outside burst in, making him wince. It closed again, muting the sounds and dimming the light inside the room. He knew from a lingering smell of cologne who’d just joined him. He turned slowly to face Nic Gerrard. “You’re going so soon?” Nic’s expression was a mixture of annoyance and distress. “Why the hell are you leaving?” Aidan looked behind his boss for Charlie, but there was no sign of the assistant. No sign of anyone, really; no one chasing the star of the whole show. Nic was still staring at him, and he reached out a hand to take Aidan’s arm.

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Sparks Fly Aidan felt panic rising up in him. A panic that fed his own anger and misery. “I’ve had enough of this cattle market. I’ve shown my face, shown that the whole damned thing isn’t totally automated, haven’t I? This isn’t my scene, it’s yours.” Nic’s expression was bemused. “I thought you came to … I want you with me.” The anger flared, burning inside him. “I’m not with you, Nic! There are hundreds of people with you, and at the same time, none at all. It’s a publicity launch, not a dinner party!” He slammed a hand against the rail, shaking its moorings. “Where the hell is my coat? Tell me!” Nic leaned back from him, but Aidan could feel his eyes searching his face. “There’s a smaller room behind the reception, the overflow from the cloakroom. If you were late arriving, it probably went there.” Aidan wheeled away from him and pushed his way out of the cloakroom, trying to calm his breathing. He found the small room off reception, the desk unmanned by this time, with the party in full swing. He banged the door open impatiently. This room was dark and much smaller, crammed full of coats on rails and hangers, and jackets piled rather more haphazardly on a low couch that stretched across the back wall. He struggled to adjust his eyesight. He had to get out of here. He shouldn’t have come in the first place! He felt awkward, he had no purpose, no one needed him to be here. And the sight of Nic in amongst his adoring public was sticking in his throat – And then Nic was there again behind him, following him in, hissing into his ear with an unusually sharp tone to his voice. Had he been drinking too much of his own champagne? “No, I’m not going to let you get away with that prick teasing act again, Aidan West. Running out on me, time and again. You may have little respect for me as a man, but you can’t say you don’t feel something for me!” “Something –?” 101

Clare London Nic gave him no time to argue, no time to draw back. He was the aggressor this time. He pushed Aidan further into the darkened room so that he stumbled, his legs banging hard up against the couch. Nic stepped in quickly after him, pulled the door closed at his back, and then they were alone in the dark together. “Don’t be stupid, Nic, open the door. People will want their coats.” “No. Not yet,” Nic growled. “They’re not all miserable, cowardly shits like you, leaving before things even got started. There’s plenty of champagne left to keep them occupied.” “What did you call me?” hissed Aidan. He felt uncomfortable in the dark, but the anger was rising too. And, he had to admit, an unnerving degree of excitement. Nic’s breath was hot and angry on his face. “I’m tired of trying to understand you, Aidan. Tired of feeling good around you, and then having you turn on me for whatever new fucking reason you’ve thought up. For a second out there, you seemed – I thought we were –” Shit, Nic thought, he’d not felt this angry for years, he couldn’t find the words to express himself. Pretty fucking unusual for him! He grabbed out, catching Aidan’s arm again. “I thought we were getting close, close, but you were just jerking me around as always, you’ve got your own fucking agenda that no one else on this planet understands –” “Don’t talk to me like that, you have no idea!” Aidan was gasping for breath. The walls seemed to be closing in on him, and the thick coats were deadening the angry edge of his voice. “And that kiss, that fucking kiss!” Nic’s voice was fierce in his ear, and Aidan had nowhere to go without risking a fall on to the couch. Nic had gripped both his arms now and he could feel his strength, holding on to him. “How can you do that, how can you kiss me like that and then never refer to it again? Didn’t you want it too?” “No – I – fucking – didn’t –” Aidan ground out the lie, at the same time as his mouth reached instinctively and desperately for Nic’s. It was as if his body was moving without his sanction, as if instinct was finally kicking free of sense. He tugged his arms out of 102

Sparks Fly Nic’s hold and grabbed at the other man’s head, his hands clumsy in the dark. And he kissed him again, smothering the angry, shocked words between them. Nic gasped, the sound swallowed up in Aidan’s mouth. It was as fantastic as the first time! He was dizzy with the shocked excitement, but he was ready for Aidan this time, opening his mouth hungrily, sucking in Aidan’s probing tongue. He pushed back at him, crushing his lips, groaning with need into his hot mouth. Again and again they ground against each other, Aidan’s hands tangled into Nic’s hair, and Nic thrusting tightly against his chest. Aidan was falling back, but this time he let it happen, tumbling down on to the couch. Nic fell forwards on top of him, still clutching him, but reaching down to sweep some of the coats on to the floor, out of the way of their tangled bodies. He stumbled over them in his haste to get closer to Aidan, to feel his hands around his neck, kissing, tasting, feeding…. Pressed up against the other man’s chest, he slid his hand in between the buttons of Aidan’s shirt. He felt the hot skin, the hammering heart. It was fabulous, the tight muscles under his fevered fingers were a wet dream come true. He felt Aidan’s hands pushing back ineffectually at him, then they changed direction, sliding down Nic’s body and cupping his groin. Through the cloth of Nic’s pants, Aidan gripped his cock – hard. He rubbed greedily at it. Nic nearly shouted with pleasure. “You wanted it, God, you wanted me, I knew it –” Aidan groaned and writhed under him, unable to deny or agree. He couldn’t – wouldn’t – break away! The taste of Nic’s mouth, as eager as his own this time, was like a drug to him. Every thrust of Nic’s tongue made the pain in his groin all the more fierce, all the sweeter. Nic’s hands on his skin were frightening, they made him feel so good. He wanted to break away, to drag this awesome abandonment back under his control, but he knew now the desire was stronger than that, stronger than anything he’d ever felt. He wanted to grip Nic in return, he wanted to hold him, to caress him, to make him groan aloud like he was now, but louder, and around Aidan’s name…. 103

Clare London Nic didn’t think he’d ever been so damned excited in his life! He was so sensitive he thought he might come in his pants any second, but he’d be damned if he didn’t take Aidan with him when he did. He shifted awkwardly, banging a knee against the couch, and he trod on someone’s handbag, but he managed to wedge himself on top of Aidan. The dark-haired man was stretched out underneath him, almost flat on his back on the small, lumpy couch. Nic could hear him panting, could glimpse the glistening of his saliva as he moistened his swollen lips. The room was so dark, Aidan’s face was in shadow, though Nic could see the glint of his eyes as they opened, as they glared at him; the shine of his teeth as he bit out at Nic’s tongue and lower lip. And their mouths still ravaged each other, still searching for the smallest drop of flavor, the furthest corner to explore inside. Nic took his weight on his right arm, the other pulling Aidan’s head against his shoulder. He was no praying man, but in that minute he prayed damned hard for the strength to hold them both there, for just a little longer. He pulled his leg further up on to the couch, prizing Aidan’s thighs apart, and he ground his erection against the other man’s groin. Slowly, firmly … he twisted his body … and – yes! – he could feel the answering throb in Aidan’s cock; hot and hard, even through the two sets of pants. Christ, he felt big and he felt good! “Don’t –” groaned Aidan, but at the same time he clung to Nic. Nic thought he’d heard him say it a couple of times before, each time just before he kissed him again. And this time was no different; despite the word, his hands gripped at Nic’s arms, pulling him closer. “You are – so – fucking hot –” gasped Nic. “Do you know that? Since – I first saw you…” but Aidan grabbed more desperately, and Nic swallowed any more words. He leaned down heavily on top of Aidan, and then Aidan’s mouth latched hard on his neck, sucking at his skin, surely marking him for everyone to see. Nic yelped a little – this guy was so damned confusing! – but the thrill ran up his whole body, and he could feel his groin throbbing as if it were on fire. He fumbled down at Aidan’s pants, desperate to get them both free.

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Sparks Fly Aidan gripped his wrist, halting him. “No...” he ground out the words. “Don’t touch me … not in here ….” The room was too small, too public, too … Aidan didn’t have the words, but neither could he explain the need that was wracking his whole body. He groaned and arched up against Nic, feeling the other man’s thick cock, swelling the front of his pants. “Harder,” he gasped. “Just – harder – now –” Nic felt the delicious friction of their cocks rubbing together; heard the pounding of their hearts as his chest pressed down on to Aidan’s; tasted the sweat on Aidan’s cheek as he bit down on his ear lobe. “Man – I can’t hold it – oh God, Aidan – ” No, Nic groaned to himself, not so fast, not with him! But it was out of his control now, the agony was rushing in from every point of his body, every nerve was straining, and it was all ending up at one single point, one throbbing, aching point, one point that was currently crushed against the thigh of the most sexy man he’d ever met, ever kissed, ever – ever – With a moan and another gasp of Aidan’s name, Nic climaxed, shaking and gripping at any flesh he could find. He ground so hard against Aidan’s leg, temporarily out of his mind with ecstasy, that he barely heard the answering cry from the man underneath him. But he felt Aidan’s shudder and the sudden, rippling warmth against his own over-sensitive cock, and he knew that – if not for the fact they were still completely, chastely, fully dressed – Aidan would just have come, deliciously, all over him.

THEY stretched out on the couch, exhausted. Both of them were shocked; both were panting heavily. The stifled sounds of the party outside started to come back to their ears. “Oh, shit….” Aidan’s voice was almost a sob. Nic raised himself on one arm, moving his stiff, sticky legs with some difficulty, and looked straight into Aidan’s brown eyes. They glared pure anger. 105

Clare London Fuck, would this man never relax? “Aidan, what is it? It was fantastic – you were fantastic!” “No!” Aidan’s fierce reply was hissed out at him. “That wasn’t supposed to happen, I never wanted that, I can’t believe you just –” “Now wait a minute,” Nic frowned, his head reeling. “I didn’t do anything you didn’t ask for, you were just as hot as I was. I didn’t see your dick complaining!” He felt Aidan pause, still half under him. Admitting, perhaps, that Nic was right. Nic knew that Aidan had wanted satisfaction even more than he did. It wasn’t a question of his vanity. It was the naked truth. And so Aidan’s rejection hurt even more. “Get off me. Get out of here.” Nic scrambled up, tugging hopelessly at his twisted clothing. His boxers were soaked through, the warm come staining the inside of his pants as well. The dry cleaning would cost a fortune. Perhaps he wouldn’t bother, just keep them as a souvenir…. But he couldn’t joke, couldn’t enjoy what he’d just had. Not when Aidan was so obviously disturbed by it. He thought he could see a shine in Aidan’s eyes. Shit…. “Jesus, Aidan, I didn’t mean to – to humiliate you … to upset you. I thought you wanted….” Whether Aidan was disturbed or not, his anger snapped back with its full force. “You thought I wanted to be like you. Well, I am now, aren’t I? Just taking what satisfaction there is in the moment – in the second….” Nic flinched. “No, it’s not like that at all. Of course it’s not.” “What is it, then?” Aidan’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “I can’t handle this.” He struggled off the couch as well, turning his body as far away from Nic’s as was humanly possible in such a limited space and fumbling with his own clothing. An umbrella rolled under his feet and he kicked it away with far more force than was warranted. 106

Sparks Fly “Just … leave. Leave me alone.”

NIC clutched the edge of the sink in one of the hotel restrooms, his head bent deeply over the bowl. He’d cleaned himself as best he could, and he knew he had to get back to the party, but he couldn’t shake the depression in his mind. He had never felt so confused. Or so lost. He had no idea where Aidan had gone. They’d pushed past each other to get out of the cloakroom and Aidan had darted off to the restroom across the corridor. Nic hadn’t dared follow. He’d found another one, beside a quieter, private lounge. His senses were still reeling, and not just from such a fierce, fantastic climax. There was no avoiding it. He liked Aidan. No – to follow his own creed of honesty – he liked him a lot. And he had no idea why, when Aidan made him so angry, and so obviously despised him in return. Despite those amazing, mind-fucking-blowing kisses, and the way he sucked at his neck, and played with his cock and made those gasping sounds deep in the back of his throat when he came…. God, the man had been some kind of animal, back there in the cloakroom! Did he have no idea how to behave with a lover? Lovers? sneered his inner voice, back with a vengeance. Is that what you think you are? Was that really what you’d call loving? Nic shook his head, trying to clear the fog. And the growing misery. He didn’t know what he’d call it; or what he’d call himself – but he wanted to be called it by Aidan. Aidan West…. Was he going to be the best discovery that Nic had ever made in his life – or the worst mistake?

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“NIC, have you seen the mail? The papers?” Charlie’s voice was unusually somber. It was early morning and they were alone in Nic’s office. There was only a skeleton staff on duty elsewhere in the building, Nic having given the rest of his employees the morning off to recover from the launch party. “Nope, not yet.” Nic stirred his coffee without looking at it, still distracted from the night before. Well, in truth, the evening before. From the time with Aidan. He, Nic, had left the launch party around midnight, and – an unheard of event! – he left alone. This was despite a sizeable queue of eager fans hovering by the main exit, like beauty parade contestants. But one minute he was there, shaking hands, smiling tightly, then he was gone. There were hundreds of people there, but the room seemed duller without him. The last few revelers were cleared away with very little problem in the small hours of the morning. Charlie had covered for him, as he left. He’d seen the flush on Nic’s face that he was pretty sure had nothing to do with champagne or paparazzi cameras. He’d also seen the little-boy look of confusion and misery. Something had happened; something bad. Nic was obviously feeling stressed, but that was a look that Charlie rarely associated with his employer, and never in public. So he’d risen to the occasion, distracted three reporters simultaneously, and smuggled Nic out the back door into a cab. 108

Sparks Fly “Nic?” Charlie was trying to drag his boss back into the cold light of the present, despite both of them suffering morning-after symptoms. “Are you listening? I must talk to you about this!” He dropped the bundle of early edition newspapers on to Nic’s desk, the slam of their weight demanding his attention. “Isn’t that why I have you, to read them for me?” Nic wasn’t usually vain, but he had grown rather used to the congratulatory stories in the press about him, the tone of affection that he’d always inspired. “This is something else. Read them!” ordered Charlie. And so Nic read. It was front page news. He read that his company Sparks, so recently launched on to the stock market, was planning a wild and outrageous change to its world-renowned program, that would completely bypass the question of gender, and would match its clients with someone – no, anyone! – who met the criteria. Whatever the sex. He read on, in amazed shock. ‘It’s an astonishingly arrogant move, threatening a loss of dignity and a destruction of moral codes that is more in keeping with a Greek orgy than middle America. But what should we expect from the selfindulgent Mr. Gerrard? Whose own indiscriminate sexual behavior is a common enough tale in bars, halls and stalls throughout the state! We should expect that he wants to drag us all down with him – wants us all to join in his own, warped view of a Perverted Pleasure Palace. ‘But will he be allowed to get away with it? ‘Today, the shares in Sparks – launched only this week at a laughably bullish price – have plunged to mere cents. ‘The public will decide whether they want this vision of Love! ‘The public will decide if they want their sexual preferences dictated by an amoral playboy! ‘The public will decide with their feet! ‘Let’s see how many clients Mr. Gerrard has left by the end of this day’s trading!’ 109

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THERE was a deathly silence in Nic’s room. Outside in the main office the switchboard was buzzing with frenzied activity, too fast even for Patti, whom Charlie had called in swiftly and discreetly to help out in the absence of the official reception staff. He’d guessed this would happen. Some of the calls – so Patti had hurriedly updated him, on his way through to Nic’s office – had been to express shock, some to offer confused sympathy for Nic. And many expressed anger and genuine fear that their hard won investments in the new company wouldn’t be worth toilet tissue by the end of the month. Charlie stepped quietly back, and closed the door on him and Nic. No need for anyone else to know their business! He looked with hatred at the papers in front of him, willing them to burst into flames. Every one of them had been condemning of the development. Damning Nic Gerrard himself. The darling of the press had become the devil incarnate. In twenty-four hours. Bastards! he thought. Hypocritical, two-faced bastards! Nic’s voice was flat; it sounded very weary. “Who could have told them what I was planning? About the gender flag? There were so few of us that knew. Me, Aidan, you, and maybe Patti. All people I can trust. I deliberately only hinted at it last night, in my speech – just a tease, to illustrate that there were great things planned for the future, that we’d not stand still, that the company would be worth everyone’s investment. I was planning to announce the program enhancement in more detail, but more modestly, later in the month. And it was never going to be compulsory, of course not – just an option for our clients. I knew that not everyone would welcome it….” Charlie snorted. “Makes a better story, my dear, if they paint you as Satan himself, dressed in Armani yet come to corrupt and disgust. Despite the fact that in their leisure hours, most of these very commentators lie, cheat, steal, and fuck everything and anything they can find with true abandon.” “I should talk to the press….”

110

Sparks Fly “You should not!” snapped Charlie, with spirit. “At least, not until this initial furor has died down, and you’ve talked it through with the PR department. Dammit, Nic, you're entitled to make whatever changes you want to what is, after all, your own business.” “No,” Nic shook his head. “It’s no longer only my business. Since we launched, it has a different accountability. And it has to answer to other masters than me. Ones that are more conservative. Ones that are far less indiscriminate.” Charlie’s eyes widened. “You’ve never wanted anything but the best for it – you’d never consider anything that might threaten its health or success, and they’d do well to remember that. You don't have to justify yourself to anyone! Let alone the piranhas of the press. And, to be honest, this is probably the worst time to speak. Let the dust settle on the shit, Mother would say. And when I say shit, that includes those very reporters – ‘Peanut Dick’ Castle from the Times, and ‘Vulture’ Vince from the Network, and let’s not forget the delectable ‘Ball-buster’ Bradnam....” He rattled off several more – and equally slanderous – nicknames of notorious reporters and commercial commentators. Despite himself, Nic had to smile. “Charlie, those names! I’ve never known you so vicious.” “Dear man, Mother’s been calling them that for years. She knows them too well.” He saw Nic’s shoulders slumping. He was still struggling with such a vicious turn of his fortunes. Charlie softened his voice. “Nic, you're just too – accommodating, I'd say. To have let them get such a hold on you. You must do what you have to do – your real friends will support you through this.” “Through the complete collapse of Sparks?” Nic’s voice was sharp; anguished. “The effect of this on the market price –” “Fuck the market price!” Charlie said briskly. His face twisted in sympathy. “Go home, Nic. Close the office up as well, or we’ll be besieged by reporters for days. Let me handle the PR, I can keep them guessing long enough to think this latest development is all planned. By which time, it'll have sorted itself out, eh?” 111

Clare London “I don't know,” said Nic. He looked dazed. “I genuinely don't know.”

THE Sparks office had closed for the day, possibly the week. The staff had taken the enforced paid vacation with indecent enthusiasm. Only Charlie was still around in the early evening, locking up the offices and preparing to pull up the drawbridge to Sparks until they found a way out of this mess. He’d rolled his sleeves up and fielded calls and complaints and e-mail all day, until the inquisitors lost heart and went home to their bar rooms and beds. He was looking forward to his own, to be honest. A light was on in the IT suite, and he looked in on it with some trepidation. “You're still here, West? Everyone else has gone.” Aidan nodded, though he didn't look up. “I’m close to finishing this. I don’t need any of the others.” Charlie stood in the doorway a little longer, and Aidan could feel his presence at his back. He turned his chair around slowly to face Nic’s personal assistant. “Do you think it was me?” he said, bluntly. “Who told the press about the proposed program change?” Charlie didn’t answer at once. He came into the room and stood beside Aidan’s desk. He sighed. When Aidan continued looking up at him, he shook his head. “I know you wouldn’t do that to Nic. Or to your precious program.” Aidan was taken aback. He’d always thought that Charlie disliked him. They had so very little in common except for Nic. And recently, he thought Charlie considered him a bad influence on Nic as well. “So who did? How did they find out?” “You’re trying to find a hacker, aren’t you?” Aidan’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think I can discuss –” “Shut up, West,” said Charlie, wearily. “I know virtually everything that goes on here, but that doesn’t mean I blab about it to the press, either. I know you and Nic are trying to plug this particular 112

Sparks Fly gap with the least possible damage. Could it be the hacker that’s leaked the news too early? To cause the maximum reputational damage to the launch? I’m not saying that Nic wasn’t naïve in his plans – let’s face it, there’s a limited number of bodies out there who are as tolerant as he is of alternative relationships – but he’d have carried it off, given the time and the charm that he’s blessed with. This debacle is going to hinder that rather seriously.” Aidan grimaced. “But I’ve only loaded it to prototype stage so far, and only on the test system –” God! he thought with shock – into the test system was exactly where he’d tempted the hacker! It was more than likely he’d accessed the changes there. And used the knowledge to humiliate Nic. There was a painful, unwelcome hammering in his chest at the thought. Had he unwittingly brought this disaster on Nic? His gut clenched. All the more reason to solve it once and for all! He’d call his friend Megan tonight, as soon as it was daylight in her time zone…. He realized he was still staring at Charlie, and gradually his eyes focused back on him. He peered more closely. “You said you know everything that goes on.” Charlie sighed again. He pulled over a chair and sat opposite Aidan. “So? Something else I can do for you?” “The Rapport Trust … what’s that about?” Charlie sucked in a sharp breath. “So you found out about that. I’m not surprised – nor am I interested in how you found out. It’s not a secret, anyway, just private.” “Nic's involved....” “Yeah, damn right he is!” And Charlie laughed out loud. “Do you have any idea at all? Well, perhaps that’s why you asked. It’s a Trust, as you’ve seen, a trust that he set up with his friend Greg almost three years ago. Greg’s moved on, so now Nic funds and motivates the whole damned thing. Won’t allow much help from anywhere or anyone else, not even me. It’s for kids, homeless kids. Nic wants to 113

Clare London help them find a home, a job – whatever they need. If they’ve got to stay on the streets, he gets them hostels, food, helps get them clean of drugs or out of the clutches of pimps. He spends several nights each month helping out at various centers. By himself. No publicity, no protection. Shit, I spend most of that time secretly stalking him in a succession of anonymous rental cars, in case he comes to some harm – ” Charlie saw the look of astonishment on Aidan’s face, and clammed up. “So it’s all for young people.” “Yeah. abandoned.”

Kids like Nic himself, Mr. West.

Orphans …

Aidan’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know.” Charlie shrugged. “He doesn’t like to talk about it. He’d say he’s nothing special, there are thousands with the same background. But it’s made him very fierce, very determined toward the Trust’s work. He never knew his father, his mother fell sick when he was still young. He made it to college through his own efforts. But his Mom got worse until they diagnosed cancer. They talked about him going to foster parents for a while, but he stayed home, nursed her through it. That’s all he’s ever told me. He doesn’t wallow in it.” He bit at his lip, wondering why the hell he was telling all this to West. “When she died, he just went to work, determined to make it on his own. He had help from Greg for a while, though the guy was pretty flaky as far as I can tell. But essentially he did it all on his own.” “He’s never mentioned the Trust….” Charlie smiled. “He doesn’t tell us much either, even though he calls us friends. He’s only told us enough to help him keep it running, to help him make the time for it. We’ve set up a damned good smokescreen for him over the last two years. Not because he’s ashamed of it, you understand? But he doesn’t see why the public needs to know everything about him. Dammit, they’ve had every minute of his life for the last couple of years!” Charlie drew a calming breath. “He had a hard life as a kid. He needed an organization like the Trust for himself, I think, but nothing was ever forthcoming. So he wants to provide it for others that come after him.” 114

Sparks Fly “He’d have plenty of help from others if he advertised it, though –” Charlie grimaced. “You don’t get it at all, do you? Nic doesn’t want anyone involved just because of his public face; just because of his success; just for fashionable reasons. And so he has to do it on his own. He doesn’t trust anyone else to understand. To care. He has no one, West. That’s how he feels! He’s damned proud of what he’s done with Sparks and everything else, and he loves the life he has now. Who wouldn’t? None of us begrudge him that. Everyone seems to love him. But at heart he’s on his own.” Aidan was silent now, and his eyes had dropped away from Charlie’s gaze. “He's finding this damned hard, Aidan. The agency is being crucified in the press. And so is he. I don’t think he can see where to go at the moment. He’s never had a setback like this since he started his own business. I'll do what I can, I'll rustle up the success stories. But I don’t know if it’ll be enough to save us. To save him.” He watched as Aidan moved impatiently to put away his work, pushing papers into the lockable drawer of his desk. He paused, not meeting Charlie’s eyes. His voice was ragged. “I want to help him.” “I know you do,” said Charlie, softly. He put out a hand and stopped Aidan logging off. “And I have an idea how you can. Are you interested?” Aidan looked cautious. “Where is Nic?’ “Home, I guess. I told him to go there. He didn’t ask me to take him.” Aidan said nothing, just stared at Charlie. His eyes were dark. “You two –?” “For God's sake, West.” Charlie stood up, tired of the whole thing. He had a job to do and a damned hard one at that. He needed to get started, not stand around justifying himself to Aidan West. “Nic let me close for a while but that's not what he wants any more. And that's not because he's not generous. The damned man doesn't know 115

Clare London how to say no! He's a giver, is Nic. And I've encouraged that, rather to my shame.” And enjoyed it more than anything else I’ve ever had, came the regretful thought. He shook it off quickly. “Are you going to help us or not?” “What did you have in mind?” A calculating look crossed Charlie’s face. “You know what you just said, about using your test system for the new prototype of Sparks? Give me five minutes of your time now, and I’ll tell you what I’m thinking of.” “And then?” Charlie looked into the dark eyes again, and this time he saw the longing there. “Then you can go to him, Aidan. I'll even take you if you want.”

CHARLIE was at the door to his suite. Nic looked out through the security camera, and sighed. “Charlie, I thought I made myself clear....” Charlie winced, glancing behind him. “You did, boss. But I'm here to escort another visitor. I thought you'd want him brought up, personally. There are still plenty of reporters in the lobby, taking up their – uh – issues with the doorman. I just avoided them by calling on a couple of Mother’s friends on the third floor, then coming up the back stairs.” Nic hadn’t rested, hadn’t slept. He hadn’t even changed out of his suit, he’d just dropped the jacket by the door and taken off his boots and socks. He’d unplugged the phone and TV, and turned off his cell. But still the voices in his head swirled around, and the simmering panic inside him threatened to swamp every plan he considered. He opened the door, praying it wasn’t another crisis. It was Aidan. Nic didn’t think he’d ever been so surprised to see anyone in his life. 116

Sparks Fly

CHARLIE had left, and Aidan had made coffee for them both. Nic’s sat untouched in front of him. He was slumped on the generous couch that was provided in the suite’s lounge, and Aidan sat opposite him in one of the equally luxurious armchairs. Neither of them had spoken for fifteen minutes. The time had come, and Aidan knew it. Time for him to play his part. Nic had borne too much already. “I've never seen you so upset. So unsure of things.” Nic laughed grimly. “I’ve fucked up, haven’t I? Thought I was invincible, thought I could do exactly as I pleased. I think you accused me of a similar sin, not so long ago. You weren’t far wrong.” “But you can do what you please,” Aidan said slowly. He knew how important it was that he trod carefully with Nic now, yet he felt horribly ill-equipped for the job. “You should. Because everything you do, you only do because you care. You understand people, Nic, you know what they want.” “Not all of them….” “No one knows that!” snapped Aidan. No, he scolded himself – easy does it. “You’re not God, but you do know your business. This stupidity will settle, and the company will continue as it always has. With improvements and developments, like any business. Like people’s lives.” “‘No…” Nic was shaking his head, his expression grim. “I was wrong. No one wants to move on. I think they want to stay unhappy, stay –” “– in their categories?” “Yeah.” Nic gave a tight little smile, a poor remembrance of his usual grin. “I expected too much, and they’ve slapped me back down. I was naïve – arrogant, too – thinking I’d still have the same autonomy after the launch. And they’re right to do it. Can you imagine, the practical effect of removing the cozy, familiar convention of opposite gender matching? Too many prestigious clients getting responses they 117

Clare London don't want! It was professional suicide, I guess. I think Charlie would have told me that if he’d had the nerve.” “No,” said Aidan, very clearly. Nic raised a tired head to look at him. “You weren’t doing it for the publicity, for the prestige, were you? You were doing it for the people themselves. That’s what you described to me that time in the bar – that’s what you made me believe. So the principle stands. You must do whatever helps someone find their soul mate.” “God, Aidan,” Nic sighed. “I did once say you had a way with words, didn’t I? You just don’t use it often enough. Or perhaps you do. Didn’t you tell me to leave you alone the last time you saw me?” He smiled, a little ruefully. He seemed to see the reality of Aidan there, in his apartment, for the first time. “What are you doing here, anyway? It’s not your problem. I know you’ll get a great job anywhere you like. Though my reference won’t do you much good now, I guess….” Aidan frowned. “Enough of the self pity, Nic Gerrard.” God, didn’t he know how draining that was, himself? “I want to give you my support. I want to … be with you.” He saw the flash of confusion in Nic’s wide, tortured eyes. “You must keep on with it. Don’t give up. When I – we – find the hacker, the system will be tighter than ever. The shareholders will be begging you to keep Sparks in the forefront of the industry, to bring your flair and innovation to it. And the clients will be back. They just need time to rethink.” He swallowed hard. “That's what I've had to do.” He stood up and went to Nic, sitting beside him on the couch. He put out his hand and it nestled on the other man’s shoulder. It felt very comfortable there. Aidan thought that he saw Nic tense up, but he ignored the temptation to snatch it back. “Let me help you, if I can.” Nic gave a short, harsh laugh. “I imagine that’s the last thing you want, you made that very clear.” “No. No! Please….” The amazing plea was wrenched from Aidan, and Nic looked up again in surprise. “Don’t ignore me, Nic. I can't ignore you! I've tried. And I can't.” He tried to smile but he 118

Sparks Fly knew how pained it must look. “You think I’m a rude, arrogant bastard, don’t you? You think I like being awkward, I like being a pain in the ass. That I’ve been fucking you about just for the hell of it.” Nic’s laugh was a little gentler this time. “I’m not denying that.” “It’s not really that. Well, perhaps I am a pain in the ass most of the time! Seems to come naturally. But it’s worse when … when I like someone. I can't cope with it, you see. It's easier to avoid it. Friends are a distraction – they’re a complication that I can’t handle.” Nic sighed. “Aidan, it’s okay –” ‘Look at you!” Aidan almost yelled, and Nic leapt back on his seat in shock. “Even now, you’re making allowances for me, you’re going to let me get away with it!” “Shit, man, I’m not up to these games tonight…” Nic groaned. But Aidan just ignored his words, and moved closer, turning to face him fully. Even though he was deep in gloom, Nic felt the tight heat of Aidan’s thigh against him, and his body sang. “I owe you an explanation, Nic.” “Damn you, I don't want you to owe me anything!” Nic was fierce back at him. “Okay,” Aidan held his hands up, to placate him. “I want to tell you, then. I need to.” He ran his hand through his hair, which already looked astonishingly disheveled. “Have you got a drink?”

“THERE was a guy, when I was in college. A teacher, though not one on the permanent staff. A special tutor, brought in for the most able students.” “Which included you, of course?” Aidan didn’t note Nic’s gentle irony. “He was astonishingly intelligent,” he continued. “So sharp-witted, so sophisticated. Very exotic. Fascinating. We all admired him and wanted to be in his 119

Clare London class.” Aidan sat comfortably enough on the couch, nursing a scotch, but Nic could see the tension in him. “There were a lot of you?” “Just a few. He ran a group after hours for us. A kind of advanced computer club, though most of them just used the time to create and play games. Only I wanted to develop the programming skills. And he was a talented programmer – a very gifted teacher.” Nic recognized the gleam in Aidan’s eyes as he dropped his gaze to his lap – the way he held himself very still when he spoke about this man from his past. “But he was also –?” “Also a very attractive, charismatic man.” Aidan looked back up at Nic. Now his eyes burned with a mixture of shame for the past. “You had an affair with him?” Aidan gave a harsh laugh of his own. “That wasn’t exactly what they called it a few months later, when there was an official complaint from a parent and a full enquiry into his work. When they discovered that he'd fucked most of the boys in his club. And had been doing so for years, at each institution that had hired him.” “Oh, Aidan ... and you too?” Aidan’s teeth clenched and he faced Nic boldly. “Understand this, Nic. I was young in age, but I'd never been young in my mind. I knew what I wanted, even then. And he knew that. I wanted him, and I was glad to have him teach me. To take me. I would never have accused him of any abuse. We were adults together, in that. It was never his fault entirely.” Nic opened his mouth in protest, but bit off some of the words he’d been considering. "You're too hard on yourself – he had a professional position, and a duty toward his students, whatever his personal desires. You were – what? Only a teenager, Aidan. However mature….” Aidan shook his head impatiently. “That was never the point. The worst thing was not knowing… .” He caught Nic’s puzzled look 120

Sparks Fly and frowned. This was so difficult to explain – to talk about. The memories were still vivid in his mind, the pain still fresh in his heart. But if he were honest about this, too, wasn’t it also a very long time ago? “I didn’t realize what was really going on, all during the investigation. I didn’t know why he suddenly left the school – why the police called for him. God, I was devastated when I found out! They thought they were protecting me, keeping all the news from me, but all it did was frustrate me beyond belief. There I was, listening behind doors, reading the reports the police sent to my parents, when no one was looking. My mother’s horror was … it was shocking.” Nic shifted on the couch, distressed at the tale. “Your parents … they wouldn’t have wanted you to be so hurt.” Aidan growled in reply. “That’s the story they told others – that I was the victim, that I’d been taken advantage of. But it was more than that. Her horror wasn’t just for the teacher’s actions, Nic. My mother was no fool.” He stared up at Nic, his eyes ablaze at the memory. “My parents effectively disowned me after that, even though they tried to pretend to everyone else that they’d put it all behind them, for my sake. But privately, they knew I’d wanted it to happen; they knew how I felt about him.” He shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear his thoughts. “I was the source of their disgust. I left college early, moved away and got a job as soon as I could.” “You were young … he still should have known better.” Aidan wasn’t really listening to Nic’s murmured support; instead he was remembering that time, the shock and the grief of losing someone he’d idolized. “The pain wasn’t because I was young – it wasn’t the guilt of being secret lovers, or even the way it was over so abruptly, so sordidly. He never called me to explain or anything. I don’t know what happened with the prosecution – I never saw or spoke to him again. But that was what I wanted, by then. I was disgusted with him, can you understand that? With his behavior. He betrayed me. I can’t find the right words….” Nic gazed at Aidan, recognizing the misery and anger in the other man’s expression. With a jolt of shock, he guessed the truth. 121

Clare London “His promiscuity,” breathed Nic. “That’s what hurt you so much, right? Not that he seduced you, but that he seduced the other students as well.” He couldn’t help but notice that Aidan had never mentioned the man’s name, had never credited him with that. Betrayed. That’s how Aidan had felt then – how he still felt, now. No wonder he’d been so angry at Nic’s lifestyle, his apparent carelessness with his lovers. “Stupid of me, right?” Aidan’s voice was a sad whisper. “Of course, now I know I was young, and unable to cope with it properly. I was naïve – naïve, jealous and stupid.” “No,” Nic murmured in reply. “Not stupid, not at all. Not for one minute.” He felt a deep, sympathetic pain for Aidan. All those years – all that baggage; and didn’t he know what that was like?

THERE was a long silence, though neither of them felt the need to break it. Then Nic sighed, running his hand over his head, tugging at his own tousled hair. “I'm not him, Aidan.” Aidan’s voice was very quiet. “I know that. I also know that you're not the man I thought you were originally.” “Ahh, and can I take that as a good thing?” Nic teased lightly. Aidan smiled slightly. He couldn't release his gaze from the shine in Nic’s eyes. It was like hypnotism. Nic looked like he genuinely cared about what had happened to Aidan. How could he? It had nothing to do with him; he’d never known any of the people concerned. Aidan felt strangely light-headed – he’d never told anyone about that time. No one had been allowed to mention it in the family. He’d recognized the anger and revulsion in his mother’s face and even though he sought out an adult life of his own from then on, he also decided that his feelings had to be restrained. Controlled. Or he thought he’d fall into even further madness. Done a fine job of protecting himself with Nic Gerrard, hadn’t he?

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Sparks Fly Nic shifted a little on the seat beside him. “You want to talk some more?” “No. That's enough for now.” “You want to eat? I can call for some supper. Are you hungry?” “Uh-huh.” That was a ‘no’, Nic guessed. “A drink? Do you want another drink?” “Nic....” “Yeah?” “Shut up, okay? This is difficult enough. What I want is you. I want to be close to you. Tell me if … if that's not what you want, too.” “Damn you, Aidan West,” Nic sighed. “How much more obvious do I have to be? I’ve been trying to keep my hands off you ever since you quizzed me on the question of preferred sexual profile.” “Nic….” Christ, thought Nic. When’s he going to touch me? He’d never needed the touch of another person as much as he did then. “Nic, I lied that day when I said I didn’t want to fuck you.” Nic’s voice sounded a little too tight to his own ears. “So what? We all stretch the truth a little when it suits –” He never finished the sentence. He felt Aidan’s hot breath a second before the dark-haired man’s mouth fell ravenously on him, the tongue forcing his lips open, the lips devouring him. Aidan pushed him back on the couch and fell forward on top of him. He’d tasted a shocked Nic and an angry Nic. This time his mouth met a nervous one. Nic felt the same passivity he had the first time they kissed, and he opened his mouth, allowing the attack. The kiss went on until Nic thought he might never get his mouth back, that his lips were bruised and numb and he’d never eat ice cream again – but he didn’t resist. 123

Clare London Not for a second. He let Aidan push at him, and plunder his taste, and run his hands across his straining body. Aidan had surrendered to something that was dangerously close to being out of his control. But it was also frighteningly delicious, it consumed his whole being in sensory excitement. He couldn't remember ever being so moved, so excited! He had Nic’s mouth back under his, his body under his hands – it was like his dreams, but so, so much better! The kisses had forced Nic onto his back on the cushions, and Aidan was already fumbling up under his crumpled dress shirt, desperate to touch the tanned skin, to tease the nub of a nipple he could see under the thin fabric, to stroke and suckle the skin of Nic’s throat…. ‘Jesus, Aidan,” gasped Nic. “Wait, I – I'm not sure I understand this. You're sure you want this?” Damned man near accused him of rape the last time they got heavy like this! “Uh-huh.” “A ‘yes' uh-huh?” groaned Nic, allowing his shirt to be pulled up over his head. “Yes, uh-huh. A very yes uh-huh….” Nic felt like he was sinking, drowning in a strange, fearful emotion. He had to decide whether to let the tow take him or whether to fight it. Damned sure his body told him he wanted to be sucked into this, he wasn’t going to resist the best thing he’d felt for years! But if he didn't fight it, he instinctively knew that he might not be able to save anything of himself. He was weak tonight – he was weak for Aidan. Sink into this and he might become something else; someone else. Part of Aidan and his strong, anguished passion. Aidan was murmuring into his neck, lapping his skin, biting at his ear. His fingers flipped one of Nic’s nipples, twisting the erect nub, making him moan aloud. It was all so very, very sweet. “Let me be with you, Nic. I want to be part of your world.” But Nic knew that the opposite would happen. That it would change his world, instead. 124

Sparks Fly What should he do about that? Fight – or flight? His heart was racing, his throat was dry. His lips ghosted instinctively against Aidan’s jaw, his fingers gripping at the other man’s hair. And he reached eagerly for him.

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NIC felt himself slipping off the side of the couch, his legs tangled in the cushions and his shirt thrown into a pile on the floor. He twisted himself back up, half-laughing, huffing as he was squashed up against the arm. He wanted to coax Aidan toward the bedroom and a more comfortable setting, but Aidan couldn’t keep his hands off him, couldn’t stop kissing and caressing him. Nic thought he might just lie back and enjoy it instead. “You look so good, so damned good, I want to feel it all….” Aidan’s hands were fumbling at the buttons of his own shirt, so Nic reached up to help him pull it off. The chest underneath was just as he’d imagined it, in the dark of the night – and then some. The slightest trail of hair down between the nipples, and further down over a taut belly, skin a smooth, pale, creamy hue. Muscles to die for. No, to live for…. He groaned, loudly. “You like this?” Aidan was smiling, his lips at Nic’s nipple, licking and nibbling and flicking it with his tongue. He was lying half on top of Nic, his own legs cramped up at the other end of the couch. “The sounds you make … are you always this noisy? In the cloakroom – when you came … you called my name….” Nic blushed – he actually blushed! Couldn’t remember being embarrassed like that since high school. “Ah – Aidan, about that night….” He thought he might need to apologize for the scene in the 126

Sparks Fly cloakroom, though hadn’t Aidan been pretty fucking eager himself? But he was finding it damned hard to concentrate on anything except the shivers of pleasure all over his skin. He felt so incredible! After a clumsy start, Aidan was growing in confidence and in greed. His lips were all over Nic’s naked chest, his fingers caressing his hair. Nic could feel the hot skin so close to his own, the low voice in his ear. His cock was rock hard and straining at his pants. “It was good, Nic,” came Aidan’s whisper of reply, through the fog of desire. “The best feeling I ever had! I wanted you so much, so much….” His voice was hoarse. “I was a prick, I know. And this isn't about that night, Nic. It's about much more than that. It’s about the last year – ever since I met you, first worked for you – I’ve always wanted you….” “Uhhh…” Nic was struggling with coherency and the pain of his swollen erection inside his formal pants. “I can't believe this….” “Believe it,” hissed Aidan, and he pulled away from him suddenly. Nic was panting – he could hear his own harsh breath but he didn’t seem to be entirely in control of it. He lay back, supported by the side of the couch, and watched with amazement as Aidan balanced up on his knees on the cushions and hooked his fingers into the waistband of his pants. He tugged them down a little. The button to his fly popped open easily and Nic had a quick, tantalizing view below his navel, of the thin, dark line of hair running even further down to the bush below, to the sight that Nic was panting for. Aidan stared intently at Nic’s face, as if he might see there the answers he wanted – the reassurance he was looking for. He tugged again at his pants, and the zip slid down, releasing the fly completely. “Touch me, now, Nic.” “Aidan?” “Do it,” he hissed. When Nic reached a hand out to his chest, he flinched. But only for a second. He grasped Nic’s wrist and pulled it tight against his skin. 127

Clare London “Jesus,” Nic breathed. “You are so damned fine.” Aidan's torso was tight with muscle and tension, and despite the beginnings of a thin sheen of sweat, his skin was cool to the touch. Smooth over his pecs, and as strong as Nic could ever have dreamed. He splayed his hand across a nipple, his tanned fingers contrasting with Aidan’s white flesh. He'd had that frustrating glimpse of Aidan at his apartment the day he'd called on him – but this was another world entirely. Nic sighed, feeling the excitement running ice-fire fingertips over his nerve ends. Everywhere…. Gently, he massaged him, feeling the muscles, pressing his fingertips into Aidan’s flesh. He moved his hands slowly but steadily down Aidan’s body, down to the stomach, to the hips. Aidan looked nervous, but Nic felt the goose bumps of response spring up under his touch. He felt the vibration of Aidan's heart under his ribs, felt the sharp intake of breath. “Good?” he whispered. Aidan nodded, his eyes hooded. “Very good. Give me more.” Nic growled. “How much more? What do you want from me, Aidan?” “Everything….” But Nic persisted. He had to be sure – for Aidan to be sure. He knew somehow that this was critical. “You … I kind of thought you weren’t in the market for a relationship. For…” Nic winced, but he knew no other word that described what he meant, clearly enough. “For fucking. That you didn’t do guys.” Aidan shook his head, impatiently. He pushed Nic’s hand lower. “I don't do guys, whatever that ridiculous phrase really means. But I want to do this guy. You.” His impatience was growing; Nic could see him frowning again, biting at that soft, succulent lip. “Come on, Nic, don’t tease! I want to see you, without the pants ... I want to do what we did in the cloakroom, again – properly.” He tired of Nic’s hesitancy, and pushed the other man’s hand away from his body. “Enough, enough…!” 128

Sparks Fly Nic found himself pressed back again, up along the side of the couch, Aidan’s mouth back on his, sucking and nipping. Aidan tugged at his own pants and briefs, pulling them down until they pooled around his knees, and he impatiently kicked them off the couch and away across the floor. Nic gazed at the other man, now almost fully naked. He felt the throb in his own cock at the sight of him – he was magnificent. Aidan’s body was slender and taut, his hips narrow and his legs long, and his cock was already fiercely erect, jutting out from his groin. There was a drop of pre-come shining at the tip. It was a good size – though in a less volatile time, Nic would have smiled mischievously and said that he’d rarely known one that was bad. But tonight, Aidan’s body was something new to him, something he wanted badly – something he knew was a gift to him. He was desperately excited by it. Aidan shifted awkwardly on the couch, his cock bobbing against Nic’s leg, and he groaned at the friction. He scrambled to kick off his socks and shoes so that he was completely stripped, then he reached out for Nic’s waistband. He started pulling down the fine silk pants, his fingers catching in the elastic of the boxers underneath. Nic winced as the fabric snagged on his painfully sensitive cock. “Hey, Aidan, hold up a minute –” Aidan didn’t. Nic grasped his wrist. “You’re too damn aggressive, man!” Aidan jerked back immediately, a stricken look on his face. “God, I’m sorry – I didn’t think – it’s unforgivable. Nic, I want you so badly!” Panic sparked in his dilated pupils. “You want me to go.” “No, dammit! That’s not what I meant.” Nic looked into the fevered eyes of the suddenly frightened Aidan and he knew he had to let him have his way, this time, at least. Or he might lose him forever. “It’s all right, I’m not going to break, am I? I’m okay with it, come here.”

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Clare London With a firm touch, where Aidan had been rough, Nic pulled the other man back toward him, running his hands down as far as he could reach – over the heaving chest, the tight skin of his hips. “Come to me, come here, it’s okay…” It was like teasing back a frightened animal. Aidan moaned softly, both tense and eager in his arms. Nic slipped a hand behind Aidan’s back and squeezed at his ass. Damned fine ass, as well! He felt Aidan’s fingers flip open the button of his pants, his enthusiasm returning, pulling down the zip. This time, Nic let him wrench down the cloth, sliding it over his hips and thighs, boxers and all. He wriggled out of them, and fell back on the cushions, naked and aching. He gazed up at Aidan. For a second, neither of them said or did anything. They just looked at each other’s bodies – amazed, delighted – hungry. They were both panting now. Aidan gave him one wide-eyed, tentative look, and then he leaned forward. Nic felt the eager lips back on his chest, licking at the covering of hair across his ribcage, suckling at his nipple like before. But now both men were fully naked, and it was as if Nic could feel every hair on Aidan’s arm, every bone in his leg, every muscle in his back. He arched up underneath Aidan, grasping at his shoulders. “Damn, that feels good!” Aidan smiled against Nic’s skin, feeling the ripple of excitement run through the man underneath him. He never knew someone could be so sensitive – he didn’t feel the same himself, just touching his nipples. Perhaps it was different if others touched them … curious, he slid his tongue over Nic’s again, a hand on Nic’s stomach to feel the reaction. Too damned exciting! As slowly as he could bear, he started to drag his tongue down Nic’s body, tasting the hot skin. He felt the other man stretch out again on the couch as he did so, trying to rest comfortably under the assault. Aidan anchored himself, hands on Nic’s hips, and he began to lap his way down to his groin. Nic's hand wavered at his head. “Shit, Aidan, I won’t last long if you keep this up.” 130

Sparks Fly “I want to suck you off, Nic – I want to taste you.” “Am I stopping you?” Nic bleated. Aidan’s desire was almost overwhelming, and if Nic had been in a less emotional state, he might have protested; tried to contribute more. But Aidan’s face was between his thighs, nuzzling his balls, and he was rather awkwardly rammed up against the furniture. Nic knew when he was beaten. He reached for the soft, wild hair on Aidan’s head, and guided him firmly to his crotch. The next few minutes were a glorious, chaotic whirl to Nic. He felt the inexpressible delight of Aidan’s hot mouth, plunging straight down over his cock. He felt the warm cavern engulf him; clutch at him. He tried to speak and couldn’t do anything other than groan, though he did that with gusto. Aidan’s strong grip held his hips down, and he strained up to thrust back into Aidan’s mouth. It was all too quick, too sweet, but he felt the orgasm racing uncontrollably from his groin up to the head of his cock. Aidan sucked, and licked, and as his fingers crept greedily around the base of Nic’s cock, roughly disturbing his swelling balls, Nic surrendered entirely with a shout of joyous agony. His back arched and his head went back, and the come spurted hotly out of him into Aidan’s waiting, hungry mouth. “Aidan! Dear God in heaven –!” He hadn’t come so hard – or so quickly – in years!

AIDAN helped a whimpering Nic up off the couch and into the bedroom, where they tumbled down together on the large, luxurious bed. The air was still charged with the tension of the last half hour; the confessions; the mutual understanding – and then the blinding passion they’d felt. The two men still felt the strange excitement and anticipation of discovery; the delight in each other’s body that was surely to follow. And Nic was fully aware that Aidan hadn’t come yet. When Aidan reached for his hand, he let him lift his limp palm, and draw it over to Aidan’s groin. He grinned lazily, wrapping his fingers around 131

Clare London the warm flesh of Aidan’s dick, throbbing with need; damp already with sweat and the pale, sticky pre-come. “Touch me…” hissed Aidan. Like before, it was an order, not a request. Nic wasn’t bothered either way – he was going to do it regardless! He rolled himself onto his side, facing Aidan and supported on one elbow, and he leaned over the other, prostrate man. He flexed his fingers, and fisted them around the hot, angry arousal as gently yet firmly as he could. He could feel it pulse under his fingers – he could feel the thread of the vein along its side. Aidan’s cock was big and filled Nic’s palm comfortably. He pumped slowly; languorously. But he should have realized that was never going to be enough for Aidan. Aidan laid his hand on top of Nic’s, and he pressed insistently down over his careful grip. “Harder, Nic. I want it harder! You won't hurt me either.” Nic watched the spasms of excitement running up Aidan's body as he started to pump more vigorously. He was fascinated – thrilled! This whole experience was like nothing he'd ever experienced. He felt out of control, yet he trusted that Aidan knew what he was doing, and that had to be good enough for him. He’d do anything to have this man, he realized. Aidan was groaning loudly, his hips bucking up and his cock thrusting through Nic's fist. He reached for Nic’s hair, twisting the longer strands around his wrist, getting better purchase. Nic ignored the painful tug to his scalp, allowing his head to be pulled nearer. “Kiss me again….” Aidan turned his body toward Nic, his cock still sheathed tightly in Nic’s hand, and ran his free hand over Nic’s hip. He was insistent; demanding. Nic wriggled closer to him, his own cock already stirring back to life at the touch of Aidan’s skin. He draped a leg over Aidan’s thigh and met Aidan’s tongue with his own, attacking his mouth again. And then Nic felt Aidan's hand searching around his body in return, and his pumping sped up. Aidan was caressing Nic’s ass, his fingers were slipping in between the cheeks, were probing – gently yet 132

Sparks Fly eagerly – at his puckered hole. Nic felt the chill of excitement and desire swell through him, and his erection was suddenly as keen as an early morning need. Instinctively, he spread his legs wider over Aidan’s body, and his whisper was hoarse with need. “Do you want me? Do you want to be in me?” Aidan was gazing at him through heavily lidded eyes, and by some force of will that Nic would never have believed possible, he lifted Nic’s hand off his cock. His own impending climax was suspended. He brought his fingers back to his mouth and he sucked at them. Nic saw the silvery trail of saliva as he drew them out; imagined where they were going next. He shuddered, and his eyes lit up greedily. “Please, Aidan….” “Soon.” With the smallest moan, Aidan reached behind Nic’s back, under his buttocks, and pressed a wet finger firmly into him. Nic flinched, but it was easy enough, and he stretched up toward Aidan's palm, to let him know he was willing. And then Aidan paused. Nic gazed into his face, nerves aching, but suddenly concerned. “You want to stop?” “No,” Aidan growled, his eyes suddenly averted. “God, no.” “Look at me,” panted Nic. Aidan lifted his eyes, it seemed with an effort. “You sure about this? You sure you want to do it? Do you really want me – like this?” “You want it…” “Yeah…” Nic hissed, his heart hammering, his breath harsh in his throat. “I do. But I don’t want to rush it, either, not if you’re not ready.” Aidan could feel his hands shaking. He couldn't keep his eyes off Nic's body. They kept flickering from his face to his chest, to his groin, then back up again. “I want you so badly, it's a physical pain. But – it's been a while ... I don't know how – what –” 133

Clare London “A while?” Aidan groaned. He was so afraid of spoiling this moment – of disappointing Nic. But he couldn’t bear to mislead the man lying under him, asking for him. “I haven’t had sex for months, Nic. You … I want to take you so hard, I won't last any time at all. And I don't want to hurt you.” Even as he spoke, his finger was probing, curling inside Nic so that it teased at him. When it brushed against his prostate, Nic gasped aloud with the pure, agonizing thrill of it. “Jesus, like I said, I’m not fragile. What do you think I’m like? Do whatever feels comfortable for you. I don't mind!” Aidan stared at him, unconvinced. “I don’t lie, Aidan,” Nic said, more softly. Pleadingly. “Don’t leave me aching like this.” “I believe you,” replied Aidan, his voice sounding a little strangled. “But you’re so good … the best thing I've ever seen. I just….” His words trailed away, but then Nic wriggled impatiently against his hand. He reached his eager mouth to Aidan’s shoulder – he nipped the skin less than gently. “Do it,” Nic whispered, huskily. Aidan sucked in his breath. He couldn’t have held back now if his life had depended on it. "Turn over.” Nic bit his lip, and turned away from him, over on to his stomach. Aidan ran his hand down his spine, tugging at the naked skin, marveling at the muscles and the tanned flesh. “Do I have to beg?” Nic gasped, his voice muffled against the cool, cotton sheets. “Who’s teasing now? Top drawer – condom – lube –” He lifted his body up onto his hands and knees, looking back over his shoulder. His hair fell forward over his forehead but the bright eyes still glinted out from underneath. Aidan fumbled for the foil packet and the bottle in the drawer beside the bed. For a moment, he sat back on his heels, holding the 134

Sparks Fly stuff in his hands. His heart was beating too fast and it made his head spin; he wasn’t sure he felt steady enough to continue. He looked over at the man who was about to become his lover, and his courage almost failed him. The wide, dark-blue eyes, greedy with desire, yet completely open to him, the hair loose and tangled over his shoulders. A slight smile, half-nervous, half-impatient; the chest heaving. The smooth, muscled ass held up easily by strong, athletic legs – and being offered to him. Willingly. Eagerly. “Hurry,” Nic whispered hoarsely, and his gaze flickered down to look at Aidan's cock. It hung heavily between Aidan’s thighs, thick with need. A viscous bead of come slid from its slit, dripping on to the sheets. Nic licked his lips as he watched Aidan slide on the condom and cover it with a generous layer of lube. Aidan couldn't help his wince of discomfort as he prepared himself. His own hand was almost painful on his erection – he could feel the first clench of ecstasy in his balls. He needed to be in Nic soon, he needed release. Oh God, he needed it now! On his knees, he wriggled forward between Nic’s spread legs, pushing them further apart. He gripped the other man’s waist with one hand and with the other he spread his buttocks. And, leaning against Nic’s body, bowed underneath him, he pressed his desperate cock through the tight ring of his asshole. “Yes…” gasped Nic. “Shit, Aidan – !” Aidan was big, and despite being more than eager for him, Nic hadn’t been prepared enough physically. He was shocked by the force. It had been a while since he'd had a guy top him. “Wait!” Aidan stilled immediately, pressed to his back. Nic marveled at what control that must have taken, for he could feel Aidan's cock hard and fierce inside him, and he could imagine how badly he wanted to come. “I hurt you –” “No…” groaned Nic. Only half a lie. “Just – adjusting. Go on.” “No way –” “I said, go on! Fuck me, Aidan. As hard as you want!” 135

Clare London Aidan gave a small cry, his voice muffled in Nic's hair, and Nic knew that any control his lover had was now lost. He leaned back into Aidan to encourage him, and the dark-haired man thrust up, sinking into him until his balls nudged against Nic’s thighs. Nic felt himself stretching and filling, the vibration of Aidan’s thrust through his body, the answering ripple of ecstasy in his groin. Aidan pulled out, but pushed back in immediately, even harder if possible, and from his groans, Nic knew that his own orgasm was near. Aidan thrust again, and twice again, hand twisted almost cruelly in Nic’s hair, pulling his head back. Nic felt the breath squeezed from him, as Aidan's other hand snaked around and clutched his chest. Aidan was sheathed so deeply into him that Nic felt he was melded to him, that they'd become one body. And then Aidan reached down to Nic's own cock, grown back to a full, aching erection. Strong fingers grasped him and pumped fiercely. “Shit –” Nic groaned, again. “Nic, I'm coming…” Aidan grunted into his back. “Come with me.” “Aidan, not again, so soon, I can't –” But maybe he could, he realized to his aching amazement, and anyway, he didn’t think Aidan was listening to him now. Aidan’s hips were crushed to his ass, fingertips clutching and marking Nic’s soft flesh. He was climaxing up inside Nic with spasm after spasm, and the sound that was coming from his throat was a deep keening, a moaning that both their bodies were singing to. Who’s the noisy one now? thought Nic with wild amusement, his mind reeling, his vision blurring into shards of white light. He heard a yell of agonized delight and realized it was his own. His legs almost gave out – he was only held up by Aidan’s strong arms as he shook, and the come spat out of him over the sheets below. Whatever you want, Aidan! he cried to himself, shuddering, unable to articulate any real words. I’m all yours!

“STAY the night.” 136

Sparks Fly “I can’t … I have work to do. Nic, I was a disappointment, I know –” “Stay the night.” “No … look, I was too fast, too aggressive, you said so yourself….” “Aidan,” Nic sighed. “Shut up. It was fucking fantastic.” He’d be more enthusiastic, he thought, but his stamina was wrecked – in the most perfect way. “Too fast….” “Nah … too little…” smirked Nic, his eyelids drooping. “And plenty of time to practice, eh?” He rolled over slightly, to gaze into Aidan’s troubled eyes. Satisfied – but troubled. “Please shut up,” he murmured, softening it with a smile. “Please stay. I need you to.” Aidan might have argued more, but the pressure of Nic’s hand on his side filled him with a strange comfort. He realized how exhausted he was himself. He realized this just as his own eyes slid closed. And he slept. Nic lay awake a little longer, marveling at the sight and feel of Aidan in his bed. Beside him. A sight he’d never thought to see! Asleep, the other man’s face was clear of everything, his limbs in a state of unusual relaxation. Nic thought his deep breathing might become a snore, and he grinned like a mischievous child at the thought. But what a night it had been! He’d told Aidan it had been fantastic, and it had – but he also felt rather disorientated. He touched – gently – at his side and winced. He knew bruises were already rising there, from where Aidan had gripped him so hard. He couldn't remember having such fast, aggressive sex in all his life. Or coming so fucking hard! His cock gave a stir at the memory, though he knew it was only a gesture. He watched the flicker of dreams under Aidan’s pale eyelids. He put a hand to Aidan’s forehead and pushed a loose, dark curl out of the way. Who the hell was this man, Aidan West? Was his fucking 137

Clare London always like this, so fierce and deep and vigorous? Nic yawned. He wanted the chance to find out, whatever the reason. And – dammit – the chance to show Aidan other ways it could be. And ignoring the physical, Nic felt a deeper change in some way – he felt shaken emotionally by the experience. Aidan had come to him willingly, and he'd told him things about himself that Nic doubted he'd told anyone else. He wanted Nic badly – he admitted that. But there'd been little tenderness in the sex; no submission. They’d both vented anger; they'd exposed their strength and their aggression to each other. Was the whole thing nothing more than lust and desire? What more do I want? Nic wondered. He did want something more, didn’t he? Sharp on the heels of that thought came another one, tinged with surprise and a little bitterness. What I want counts for nothing! His hand rested on the warm, smooth skin of Aidan's hip. For nothing … he mused. What mattered, he realized, was what Aidan would want.

THE early hours of the morning arrived, dusky and quiet, with a sliver of pale dawn leaking under the hotel room blinds. Aidan stirred, and for a startled second, he couldn’t remember where he was. Then he did, at the same time as he was conscious of the warm body in the bed beside him. Their covers had been thrown off long ago, and the crumpled cotton sheets smelt musky underneath him. Deliciously so. Aidan felt Nic’s breath on his thigh like a warm dream. Still half asleep, he felt the tongue lapping around his groin, almost idly; the seductive, sucking sound of his right ball being gently drawn into hot, soft lips. He yelped quietly. “I hope to God that's you, Nic.” “Nah, it's a morning ghost,” came a mumbled reply. “You must still be dreaming.” “Okay...” sighed Aidan, grinning, and he reached casually for his cock. He was hot and very hard, and he needed the release.... 138

Sparks Fly “No!” came a sharp reply. “That's mine this morning.” The mouth had left his balls and he felt the tip of its tongue slide up the underside of his cock. “Shit...” he sighed. “Feels too real to be a ghost. Please – faster –” But Nic was ignoring him, it seemed. His licking remained slow, and painfully teasing. “Faster, Nic,” Aidan moaned. It was agony! The ache was deep and excruciating, and he wasn’t used to this torture. “Go down on me, take it all –” He reached a shaking hand to Nic’s head, but it was knocked sharply away. “No,” muttered Nic in reply. “I don't want to rush it. I don't want you to touch anything!” Aidan suspected that Nic was telling him something other than just tormenting him, but he couldn't think straight. All he knew was that he wanted desperately to reach for something, to bring on the climax. Either Nic's head, to speed up his sucking, or his own cock, to bring himself off. After all, that’s what he’d always done in the past. “Don't touch,” warned Nic's low, sexy voice. “Or I may stop altogether, and you'll never know how it was going to feel ... will you?” The tone made Aidan’s skin crawl, but in the most sensual way. And he didn't dare disobey. Nic's tongue was harsh and tantalizing on him now, drawing the pulse up the length of his cock, over the top, dribbling into the slit, and down again to where he strained up out of the hairs at his groin, now damp with sweat. “I can’t bear it – what are you doing?” he moaned. Nic didn’t reply. He was too busy licking around the base of Aidan’s cock, then trailing his wet lips back up to the tip. Aidan held his breath – he was completely out of his depth here, for he’d never had anyone savor him in quite this way. And at their own pace – not his. His head swam, and his balls ached. He was, quite simply, petrified. 139

Clare London Softly, succulently, Nic lowered his mouth over him. At last! And then – Aidan couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe the strange and glorious feeling – Nic began a gentle, rhythmic hum, that vibrated all around him, all through his groin. And he sucked. Relentlessly. Aidan nearly wept. The end came swiftly and too, too fiercely. He cried out incoherently, his hips lifting from the bed, and he felt the sticky ropes of come bursting out of him. He was aware of almost nothing but his all-consuming climax. There was an ecstasy that was agonizing – a pleasure like he'd never had in his life. His whole body shuddered; he experienced a humiliating loss of control over his flailing limbs. And through all this, there was Nic, his mouth wrapped around his cock, drinking it, milking it all.

WHEN Aidan regained some of his wits, he reached for Nic. He needed to do that back, he needed to return the favor! But Nic wasn't next to him anymore. He was knelt up on the end of the bed, facing Aidan and grinning. The daylight was stronger now, though he’d not drawn the blind. Instead, the rays breaking through the slats crept over his body in thin, smudged lines, lighting him from behind. Nic Gerrard without clothes was a thousand times as tasty as with them on. His skin was smooth and lightly tanned, not a white mark in sight except for a thin, tantalizing strip around his hips that hinted at some kind of minimal beachwear thong. And he moved like a cat – Aidan watched him as he eased himself into a more comfortable position. He stretched luxuriously, he balanced himself with absolute poise, and he almost purred. Like a panther, as he’d described himself once! Aidan remembered it, with a rush of amusement and thrill. He could see the glistening drops of his come still on Nic’s lips, could see the broad chest rising fiercely with short, excited breaths. Nic pushed his tousled hair back off his forehead, but locks of it fell forward again as he moved, brushing his flushed cheeks. He had his hand loosely around his cock, stroking it. Despite being wiped out by 140

Sparks Fly what Nic had just done to him, Aidan could feel the stab of arousal again at the sight of him. “Aidan…” Nic hissed, every syllable erotically charged. “You look so fucking beautiful when you come.” Aidan flushed. He was almost scared of this fabulous creature in front of him! “Nic ... come here ... I want you.” “No,” Nic whispered. “You can't touch anything this morning. Not yourself – not me. Just watch.” “Watch?” gasped Aidan. And Nic started to stroke himself a little harder, again and again, firm, familiar movements, up and down his engorged dick. “Watch…” he whispered. “Haven’t you ever just watched?” Aidan shook his head slowly. He thought that his face might be permanently flushed. His skin might never recover from the excitement, from the embarrassed delight of this man’s behavior. Nic watched the expressions of shock and lust flicker over Aidan’s face, and it thrilled him beyond belief. He knew how provocative he could be as a lover, but Aidan’s amazement was an extra, sweet excitement. He was very aroused – his thighs were tensing up where they took his weight and there was a deep, grinding coil of ecstasy building up in his groin. He’d woken with a cock that was already swollen hard and painful to lie on, and the sight of Aidan’s naked body sleeping beside him had been almost too much to resist. If the damned man had chosen today to sleep in until noon, Nic would have had to wake him, regardless. Instead, he’d knelt, watching the other man wake slowly and groggily. Watching … and waiting. He wriggled nearer to Aidan, the deep mattress sinking beneath him as he moved. “What do you want, Aidan?” Aidan couldn’t take his eyes off Nic’s cock, swollen and bloodred, sliding up out of his fist, then slipping back down, slowly and tortuously. “I – don't know what you mean.”

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Clare London “Tell me.” Nic ground out the words. He hesitated, tightening his hand around the base of his cock, trying to hold back the oncoming rush. “Tell me what you want right now.” What did Nic want him to say? Aidan felt a chill of distress. Idiot! his inner voice snapped back at him, there's no right answer! Nic just wanted it to come from him – a genuine response. To tell him what he felt. Aidan felt a shudder throughout his whole body, and he opened his mind to his instincts. “I want to watch you. I want to see you come all over me.” Nic drew in a sharp breath. God, but that sounded fantastic in Aidan’s low, clipped tone! He shivered. “What else?” Aidan pulled himself up to sitting on the bed, then shifted again to balance up on his knees. His eyes were now on a level with Nic’s, and their knees only a foot or so apart. He put his hands down on the bed, one on either side of his hips, holding himself steady. When he spoke again, he could hear how hoarse his voice was. He didn’t know where the words came from, for he’d never said anything like it in his life. “I want to watch you come, and I want to jerk off as you do it.” He was rewarded by Nic’s broad smile, it was triumphant, delighted, and pained, all at the same time. “You’ll have to hurry, gorgeous man. I’m very close.” “Oh God…” breathed Aidan, fascinated by the changing expressions on his lover’s face, as the waves of pleasure surged through him. Nic started to pump again and his back arched, his free hand falling back on to the bed to help take his weight. The position pushed his cock even higher, even nearer to Aidan’s body. And still he stroked, his long fingered hand molded perfectly to the flesh, drawing up the agony, teasing up the desire – straining for satisfaction. Aidan found his hand clamped around his own cock, almost without realizing. And he was pumping away like he hadn’t shot his load all over Nic’s tongue and tonsils just minutes ago, and thought he’d never have the energy to come again this side of the holidays! “Yeah…” murmured Nic, in his purring voice, eyes fast on Aidan’s straining erection. “I want you to come for me, Tiger.” 142

Sparks Fly “No – I can’t – won’t make it –” Aidan thought that the pressure in his chest might kill him, that a critical organ might burst out, that so much excitement could only be a hallucination, as Nic moved his fabulous body toward him, stealing up on him like a true predator, and then leaned in against him, lips licking at his ear…. “Yeah, you will … for me.” And Aidan came – hard, painfully, deliriously, and almost against his will – with trails of hot seed spewing out over his hand and his sore cock and on to Nic’s thighs, as his seducer knelt opposite him. He shouted Nic’s name, he was sure he did, but he didn’t seem to have any control over his voice at all. He reached out a hand to grasp Nic’s shoulder, to hold himself up, and he felt the other man also shaking, jolting, with gasps of pure, blissful agony. “This is for you, all for you, Aidan!” Nic gasped. His hand grabbed at Aidan in return. They clutched each other upright, and Aidan watched through eyes misted with the aftermath of climax, as Nic’s hand slid away from his cock, his hips bucked, and he climaxed all over Aidan’s lap. Warm, spurting come, dropping into sticky streams that Aidan watched trickle down his legs and join with his own glutinous pools. “Aidan!” Nic groaned. He was shuddering, his breath was heaving. He pushed his sweaty hair back off his forehead and his eyes gleamed at Aidan with pure, astonished delight. “Shit, I’ve never come like that before in my life!"

IT was an hour or so later, and Aidan was wide awake. He gazed down at the man dozing beside him and wondered what the hell had just happened. Last night had been just sex. Of course it had. But this morning? He frowned to himself. He pulled himself up to sitting, tugging a pillow behind his back, trying not to wake Nic. This morning … what had that been? More of the same, he thought; he smiled inside at the thrill that still teased at him. Being touched – suffering – watching …. It had been incredible. 143

Clare London But no, Aidan, wheedled his inner voice – it was something much more than that, wasn’t it? He was still trying to absorb it, to savor the whole experience. He'd never had sex like it before – nothing even approaching it. No penetration, not even touching Nic’s cock, but still the most intimate, exciting time he’d ever had. Slow, sexy; making him smile. Finally, it had felt like a surrender, and one he was happy to make – the admission was a shock to him. And crying out Nic's name as he came – what was that about? He’d never done that before, with anyone. No, he'd never known sex like that before, he repeated to himself. Wonderingly.

NIC felt the other man stir beside him. When he rolled over sleepily, he found Aidan sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling his pants back up. His shirt was on, but hanging from his shoulders, not yet buttoned. Nic tugged at his sleeve. “I have to go,” whispered Aidan. He cleared his throat. “The office will be opening up soon. I have work to do today. For the hacker – to find him for good.” He knew what he’d see if he turned around – a naked Nic, skin flushed with his last climax. Aidan knew they’d cleaned themselves afterwards, but he’d still see the sticky puddles of seed all over his lover; still imagine them glistening in the pale morning light, rippling with every panting gasp. Nic was stretching those athletic limbs – maybe reveling in a similar memory. Nic yawned and reached out to touch Aidan, his fingers light against the skin where the shirt wasn’t yet fastened. “Stay the day … stay and have breakfast. Stay and shower with me.” Aidan could hear the wicked smile in Nic’s sleepy voice. Nic’s finger teased at the hem of his shirt, sneaking down inside the waistband of Aidan’s pants. Aidan quickly tugged himself away, pulling his shirt roughly together across his chest. 144

Sparks Fly “No, I can’t.” He felt Nic tense up behind him. Heard his breath pause. “Aidan.” Nic didn’t say any more, but he sighed. He rolled closer to Aidan’s back, to spoon up against him. His lips touched briefly on Aidan’s pale shoulder. “I'm sorry.” “What for?” Aidan knew he’d snapped the words, he hadn’t meant to. “It’s work. It’s nothing to do with this – with you….” “With us, you mean?” Aidan was silent for a second. He knew that Nic was still sleepy, he was sure he wouldn’t notice the hesitation. “I have a call out to the UK, to a contact there. An expert on hacking. I need to get on with things; to take that call as soon as possible. I'm close, Nic.” Silence from Nic now, as well. From the sudden chill on his back, Aidan knew he’d rolled away from him again. “I still have a program to protect. And don’t you want your company’s reputation back? Your own? I want to do that for you.” Then in a sudden, fluid movement, Nic rolled off the bed, sweeping the sheet artlessly around his waist to cover himself. He stood up in front of Aidan. The advantage was back with him, for Aidan was still sitting, trying not to feast his eyes on the tanned skin, flushed with sex, creased and dimpled by the sheets they’d just had wrapped around them. On Nic’s bright, searching eyes; the tangled, coppery hair pooling carelessly on his shoulders, wisps of it clinging to his cheeks. Everything so warm … so tactile…. Nic stared hard at him until he flushed himself. But Nic didn’t snap back at him – his voice was soft. Caressing. Almost pleading. “Will you come around again tonight?” Aidan dropped his eyes, pretending he was concentrating on his zip. “I don’t know how it’ll go – hackers don’t keep office hours, you know. I’ll report in this afternoon.” “I don't mean about the hacker.” Nic’s voice seemed rather distant now.

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Clare London Aidan nodded and stood up, buttoning his last shirt button with fingers that trembled very slightly. Again, he hoped that Nic wouldn’t notice. “I know. I’ll – I’ll call.” He looked around distractedly for his jacket, knowing it was still in the lounge but afraid to meet Nic’s eyes and have to explain himself further. He sidestepped the other man, crossed the bedroom quickly, then moved through the lounge as well, scooping up his jacket as he went. He kept his eyes on the door of the apartment, knowing his legs didn’t feel altogether steady. Just a few steps and he reached it. A few steps more, and he was out into the corridor and gone. The door shut behind him with an unusually loud click.

NIC sank back down on to the bed, staring out of the open bedroom door and into the empty lounge, all the way to the door that Aidan had just rushed through. He heard nothing but the cool silence of morning – the hotel was extremely exclusive, with residents who rarely bumped into each other, and who both preferred and paid for it to be that way. He knew the corridors would be deserted outside his suite. No one would have seen Aidan go – no one would have hindered him. He glanced back around the bedroom, his eyes narrowing. There was barely any evidence left of the other man’s visit. Beside the bed was a towel they’d discarded after sex and a crumpled foil condom package. Looking back into the lounge, he could see a pile of his discarded clothes on the floor beside the couch, and a lone, half-empty glass on the table. Nic let his body fall back on to the mattress, the air from his lungs bursting out in a groan. “Shit!” He rolled over on his sweaty, cooling sheets and he groaned again. “Shit!” There was angry moisture in his eyes. 146

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147

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AIDAN strode into the Sparks office, his face set, his mood confused. Patti had to call to him twice to get his attention, to let him know that his contact was on the phone, having waited for half an hour to reach him. Despite the fact the office was officially closed, the phones still rang and the e-mail inbox still filled up – Patti had been one of the loyal few to offer to handle it all, in this interim period. She smiled at Aidan, probably hoping for a more cheerful greeting, but he couldn’t respond. He could feel her eyes at his back as he called for it to be transferred into one of the empty conference rooms. He closed the door behind him and took a deep breath. The silence was welcome. The conference phone unit buzzed. “Aidan West, is that you?” “Megan!” he smiled with genuine pleasure at the sound of her voice, though she couldn’t see him, of course. He sat down at the conference table, leaning over to listen better. “It's good to hear from you.” “Sweetheart, are you well? Got plenty of RAM?” It was an old joke between them. “Aidan, are you getting out, over there in the big city? I want to hear that you've found yourself a fit young man and you're shagging him senseless.” “Megan!” he protested, flushing. He was acutely conscious the phone was on speaker, and thankful that there was no one else around the office today. There weren’t many people in his life that he’d discussed his sexual preferences with, but he’d always felt more secure 148

Sparks Fly with a few online friends, including Megan. “There are other things in life, you know.” “But they’re not as much fun, and I should know, I’ve tried most of those other things. And fun’s not something you seem to have a lot of, is it?” she laughed, unrepentant. They’d been in touch for a couple of years now, and she had no inhibitions that he’d found so far. She never gave many details about her background – she didn’t have a formal resume and rarely referred to family or other friends. There were no photos of her available. Aidan wasn’t even very sure of her age, although he’d spoken to her by phone many times. In all honesty, he suspected that her extensive knowledge of hacking and computer espionage had been accumulated from personal – and probably illegal – experience, rather than any legitimate training. But in some of his lonelier, more isolated times, she'd been a cheerful and loyal companion. She was brutally honest and outspoken in her friendships, and judged no one. She had always accepted Aidan just as he was, never expecting or asking him to change, assuring him she liked him best that way. And he’d admit – though maybe not in public – that she had a far sharper brain than his in many technical areas. “What fun I have is my own business,” he replied with spirit, shaking his head. He wasn’t really angry with her. She gave a low chuckle. “A guilty conscience speaking, eh? I hear it in your voice, you know. I never thought I'd hear Aidan West thick with sated passion, that's the best news I've had all month!” “Leave my love life alone,” he growled, though he knew she’d take no notice of his indignation. “I need your brain, not your lonely hearts advice.” “Ah yes,” she chuckled. “And you shall have both! I just wish I could be there to see you when you catch this guy, to accept the bottle of champagne you’ll have for me in person, and to see that tasty Mr. Gerrard they all rave about in the press….” Her voice paused. Aidan almost panicked. “You do have something for me? Megan, this is really important. Maybe I can go back to the diagnostic testing I did the other night, I must be able….” 149

Clare London She sighed on the other end of the line, breaking in. “Calm down and let a girl have her fifteen minutes of fame, okay? You learned a lot from me, honey, but not enough, not yet. Come back soon for a refresher course, but leave this to the professionals! You were on the right track, I’ll say that. You just don’t have the most up-to-date software, you needed to have hacked a few of the recent developments on the European blogs. Yes, you’d managed to get a couple of rogue IP addresses, but no further….” “What did you find?” Aidan interrupted. Megan sighed again. “Hush. I found you the ISP as well. Also a regular pattern of the hacking activity, and a small band of Trojans left behind, uninvited guests still in hiding after the main party’s over. I did wonder how the hell they managed to crack your language encryption, unless there was some insider knowledge involved. Now comes my lecture on reverse engineering, sweet….” Aidan swore once, colorfully. Megan laughed. “Honey, no panic, I’ve sorted it all for you. The leak is blocked. You lost your way when you routed all activity through to your test system, though it was a damned good diversion. But I needed to go back to the live program; this problem’s been going on for a few more months than you imagined. Oh, and thanks for the access codes to Sparks, I hope I didn’t destroy anyone’s chance for wedded bliss by a careless keystroke.” “Megan!” he groaned. “Just tell me, already!” Her tone became serious again. “I have an e-mail address, one that’s nothing to do with any of your contacts or employees. There’s no reason for it to be in your system, and the pattern of its entry is both suspicious and clumsy. It’s definitely your hacker. But it's a nickname. Whoever it is, they’ve used several PCs, but a couple of them linked back to a single postal location, and both of those had records for this e-mail address. It’s in your city, too, so that was the start of my trail. And before you ask, I’ll have you know I have friends in many an outlet store, many a public records office, many a postal sorting office, not just geeks like us. I hope it’ll help you, but I don’t know –” 150

Sparks Fly “And?” He could hear the rustle of paper as she looked through her notes. Her desk was always covered in paper. “It says '[email protected]'. Does that mean anything? Mglory … Isn’t Morning Glory a TV program over there?” Megan loved her TV, she had it on all the time, even when she was working. All the satellite channels she could access, across the globe, everything from cartoons to current affairs. “Aidan? If you give me more time, I’m sure I can track down a real life name as well….” “Exclusive,” muttered Aidan. someone’s mouth, only recently.

He’d heard that word from

“Amanda Bradnam,” came a soft voice behind him. “Always on her endless quest for an exclusive.” Aidan heard the door to the conference room click shut again behind the speaker. His whole body stilled. He turned around slowly, to see Nic Gerrard watching him, a strange, sharp light in his eyes. “I had to come,” said Nic, calmly. No apology. No personal greeting. Back in control of his company’s business. “She is, of course, the host of that program. And wouldn’t it be just like her to sign her e-mails in that boastful, pretentious fashion?” “Aidan?” came a sly little chuckle from the conference speaker. “And am I right to think that’s the delicious Mr. Gerrard himself?”

THAT afternoon, Amanda Bradnam had been found at her small, downtown apartment, sitting in a small, windowless bedroom, surrounded by a selection of terminals that – according to Aidan West – were of surprisingly high caliber. And with enough evidence scattered around her to confirm that several of them had been used to hack systematically into the Sparks program for several months. The police had also found telephone records of calls to another state address that lasted for hours at a time – and just for good measure, a more than generous supply of Class A drugs.

151

Clare London Nic and Aidan went together to the police station to give statements. Charlie had followed, but only for support. He stayed by the car, fighting off the reporters as soon as they got wind of further developments in the Sparks/Gerrard story. Nic sat inside, in the hallway, watching the passing officers with something like shock, while Aidan paced. “How stupid was she, to use her official e-mail address from her work?” he grunted. “She must have known I would track it down sooner or later. She can’t be an experienced hacker. I don’t understand.” “God’s sake,” muttered Nic. “You mean there are people who make this a career?” Aidan wasn’t listening. “Somehow, she was proficient enough to hack in, and she was obviously the one who found the records of the new gender flag work, and released the information to the press. There’s something missing in the picture….” Nic had no time to offer an opinion. The door across the hall opened, and two police officers came out, flanking a small, whitefaced woman. It was Amanda, looking considerably older and paler without her makeup and smart clothes. She was in handcuffs; she had tried to attack the arresting officers, it seemed, and they’d had to restrain her. Even though her attorney bleated that she was under the influence of ‘strong medication’, they weren’t taking any chances with her. She glanced around the hallway, scowling. And she saw them. She came to an abrupt halt, the officer on her left putting out a restraining arm. Nic half rose from his seat. But Aidan marched straight toward her, glaring. “What do you want?” she said. Aggressive, but wary. Her eyes rolled unpleasantly in her head and there was a heavy sheen of sweat on her forehead. No sign of the polished, attractive TV personality now. “I want you to leave my program alone,” he snapped. 152

Sparks Fly “So you're the geek he's so protective of,” she sneered. “I should have known it, the way he was stripping you with his eyes at the launch.” Her gaze flashed to Nic, then back to Aidan. Her eyes narrowed. “He has a quaint approach to staff management, I must say. As a lover instead of just a minion, does he fuck you over more or less?” “Amanda –” Nic was behind Aidan now, holding up a hand to beg a few minutes from the police escort. “Why did you do it?” “More to the point,” said Aidan grimly, unfazed by her abuse, “How did you do it? I know you don’t have the skills, not on your own.” Amanda’s attorney was blustering behind the police officers, an ineffectual man, obviously out of his depth in this kind of crime. He was making some muttered complaint about proper legal representation while in custody, and harassment by potential witnesses, but in any event, Amanda seemed careless of incriminating herself further. “What do you know?” she spat out at Aidan. “You lost the best programmer you’ve had for years, someone with real flair. Damon would have shown you all what he could do, but you couldn’t recognize his genius.” “Damon?” Nic murmured behind Aidan. “The only Damon I know … Hiller, that’s it, Damon Hiller was his name. He worked for us when we first started up. But what’s he got to do with this?” Amanda tried to run her hands over her face, but the tug of the cuffs stopped her. “He’s my brother.” She saw the frown on Nic’s face. “People change their names, Nic, all the time. At least, I did, when I got married. It was a pathetic little marriage, and one I’d rather forget, but I kept the name long after the guy left. It sounds good, for professional purposes. You know they call me Ball-Buster Bradnam, don’t you?” She looked inordinately proud of the fact. Nic turned to Aidan, eyes wide. “Could it have been this Damon who hacked in?” 153

Clare London Aidan never took his gaze off Amanda. “He was a mediocre programmer, but he would have had limited access to the system while he worked at Sparks. He could have developed that maliciously, after I fired him.” “He left!” Amanda growled at him. “He wasn’t fired, that’s a vicious lie. He left to find somewhere more appreciative of his talents.” “I assume you’re referring to his talents for poor discipline and repeatedly sloppy work,” Aidan snapped. “I wouldn’t have kept him on any longer than I had to.” “And without even a reference.” Amanda was scowling. “After the work he’d done for you and your precious matching program.” Aidan felt Nic’s eyes on him. “He threatened to go into competition against us, trying to scam a compensation payment out of me. I refused and had him escorted from the building.” “Revenge against Sparks. Is that what all this was? Revenge against me…” Nic looked shocked. “Hiller took too many short cuts,” Aidan said, coldly. “He would harass me to work on the core program, but his skills weren't up to it. I refused to risk the project by involving him in anything more critical.” For the first time, Amanda smiled. “But he found his own way in, didn’t he? Or I did, with his help. With various back doors that he’d left behind him, that you never found. If I’d had longer, we’d have found enough to set us up for life, to set up our own agency. We’d have brought down your whole, precious business, and made a laughing stock of you all!” “Not from my program, you wouldn’t!” snarled Aidan. “I’d have found you in the end. I did, right?” Nic was also shaking his head. “I’d never have let you get away with that, Amanda.”

154

Sparks Fly “Stand up for each other, why don’t you?” she almost shouted. She glared from one to the other; the two tall, handsome men, both angry and distressed for various reasons of their own. “Your own pathetic little clique, Nic Gerrard; your glamorous, gilded little world! What do you know about other people’s ambitions, their desires? Fucking nothing! And you couldn’t care less, either, could you?” The officer holding her arm turned to his radio as it crackled in his ear. “Time to move on, Bradnam,” he grunted. “We’ve got a cozy little cell for you now. It’ll give you time to get over your medication.” They started to move her on along the corridor and toward the exit to the holding cells, the attorney scampering around on their heels. But Nic stepped in front of them. He had more questions, and he didn’t think he’d have the stomach to face her ever again. He had to know now. “Why, Amanda; why attack me?” She laughed, then. A thin, abrasive sound. “You arrogant bastard!” She stared at Aidan, seeing how he followed Nic, was drawn along with him. “If you’ve got any sense left, geek, keep away from him. He’s got no interest in anyone but himself – gives no one else a chance!” She turned back to Nic, eyes blazing with a false, hysterical fever. “How long did you give me, to impress you? One measly fucking date? You’d already made your mind up in the first hour, you hypocrite. You had no intention of following your own company’s report – your own match!” “You dated her –?” Aidan watched Nic’s face pale, realizing at once what Amanda was talking about. This was the woman that Sparks had paired Nic with, all that time ago! Nic’s face had grown hard. “You lied, Amanda – time and again, even on that first date, I saw the replies that you’d given were lies. Stories you made up; a whole different persona. I think you must have deliberately avoided the initial interview, because you knew I’d see through you.” He looked confused. “Somehow you hit on enough triggers to land me as a match. Maybe I didn’t tell the whole truth myself. Whatever the reason, it was obvious almost immediately that 155

Clare London we had nothing going for us. The match was a chance, miserable mistake. You brought any disappointment on yourself.” “Chance?” she said, her voice dropping to a lower, sly tone. “It wasn’t all chance, Mr. Brilliant Gerrard. I wasn’t in your damned program just to see what jerk I’d be matched with. It was you I wanted … and you I was going to get! Damon made sure of that.” “You were hacking in even then?” hissed Aidan. “Just that one time. Damon said what a joke it’d be – to match me with the icon of the company, the creator of Sparks himself! And what an exclusive that would have been!” Nic swore quietly under his breath. “And later Damon said it had been a practice for him. Practice for when he would break in and take the secrets that should have been open to him in the first place. It would have brought us both everything in the end.” “Take her away from me,” said Nic, through gritted teeth. The tension stood out in the veins of his forehead. Every muscle in him screamed anger and distress. Suddenly the expression on her face changed, her mouth twisting. She looked piteous. Even as he shrank away from her, she stepped forward toward him. “It was a joke for Damon, Nic, matching us. But not for me. It wasn’t all lies, you know? I could have shown you a really good time.” She glared over at Aidan. “Better than you’d get from him.” Aidan interrupted, suddenly afraid of what Nic might do. “You were a fool, Amanda. Damon would never have broken through enough to destroy Sparks. And how could you think you could trick someone into a relationship with you?” And then she lost control completely, yelling, struggling in the arms of the officers. “Do you think I didn’t know that? Even when I finally got him to bed?” She glared at Nic, and he blanched from the hatred in her expression. “Do you think I didn't notice your fixed smile as you fucked me? The fact I had to swallow bottles of wine and 156

Sparks Fly pills to get you to bed at all?” She turned suddenly on Aidan. “What tricks have you used? What makes you think you’ll be any more successful – that he won’t move on when he’s tired of fucking you, too?” Nic was caught between the scorching heat of Amanda’s loathing, and Aidan’s eyes on his back; he could feel his new lover’s silent shock. “You think you can have whoever you want, Nic Gerrard, without giving anything in return,” Amanda hissed, her head turned back to him, glaring over her shoulder. Tears were falling down her cheeks but she took no notice of them, as if she couldn’t feel the hot, angry trails. “Anyone … everyone … and nothing in return!”

THE new morning paper arrived on Nic’s desk with another thump, but there was a smug look on Charlie’s face this time. “Read it, Nic!” Nic groaned. It was only a week after Amanda and her brother Damon had been arrested, and they were still being held awaiting trial. He’d given statement after statement. At one stage, he’d had more lawyers in the office than staff. He had only just called everyone back into work, trying to get a routine re-established. And he’d only just stopped being hounded by the press every hour – now it was only four times a day. The discovery of a hacker and saboteur was new excitement for the press, and to some extent it had restored public sympathy for Nic. The abusive attacks on his agency and on his personal life had eased. But he was still far from flavor of the month. The number of new clients to Sparks had trickled to nothing, and he was currently patching together his other businesses, to protect them from the fall-out. And now this…. Did Charlie expect him to read more about his failure? What kind of masochist did he think he was? “What new spin on the disaster now?” he sighed. “Don’t think I’m not grateful, Charlie, for the work you’ve been doing to try to find enough success stories to counteract the bad publicity of my misguided 157

Clare London ideas. But it’s only damage limitation. Past successes won’t save us in the long term, going forward.” “Read it,” Charlie repeated. “This is, I think you’ll find, a little more than a past success. This is a client who’s been through the new matching process, and … has something to say.” “What? What new process?” Nic rose to his feet, with shocked fury. “That program modification hasn’t been launched yet – it’s not going to be launched! Who put the changes through without my authorization? What further damage have you done?” “Whoa!” protested Charlie. He backed away quickly. “Give me a hearing, okay? I just thought – well, no one wanted to know us as we were, and they all expected this revolutionary change. So I thought – let’s give it to them! At least, some of them. Notably that batch of clients we had last month, begging for our attention; I thought they deserved our latest product. Give it a chance to do its magic!” Give it a chance before we closed our doors, he thought privately. And West hadn’t needed much convincing to help him out. “Read it, Nic,” he wheedled. He wasn’t sure he’d tell Nic about West’s involvement – not just yet. It was front page news again, but this time with a very different tone. The lady in question had been through the new Sparks matching program, even in the midst of the recent scandalous revelations, and had been matched very successfully – with another, younger woman! They’d known each other only days, but they had a worldwide cruise booked together, and in the near future they’d be moving in together. She’d never been so blissfully happy. ‘It’s been the making of me,’ was her gushing reply to the reporter. ‘I would never have considered a soul mate anything other than the handsome, rich, bestial men that I’ve attracted so far. It’s taken this brave man’s agency and his unselfish desire for my happiness to open my eyes to such unexpected happiness. Damn Nic Gerrard – if he were a woman, I’d kiss his ass thank you on national TV!’ “She would, as well,” murmured Charlie with a fond smile. “Literally. My dear Mother!” 158

Sparks Fly He watched the look of complete amazement suffuse his employer’s face. He admitted a guilty pleasure at bringing such shock to Nic Gerrard himself. “What, Nic? I never told you who my Mother is? She's in the Sparks program with her real name, Marisa Cohen. As you know. An unusually discreet move on her part, considering how infamous she is under her professional name. Which is, of course….” “Marisa Cain….” Nic whispered, staring at the quarter-page publicity photo accompanying the story. Marisa Cain – the famous television personality, broadcaster and Erotic Romance author. A glamorous, outrageous woman; a national icon; a guaranteed draw for whatever program she graced. The most talked about and argued about woman in the US. And the one with the wittiest – and most caustic – tongue. “Good God!” Charlie smirked again. Despite himself, he was damned proud of Mother! She’d taken a little convincing to let her details go forward into the program, but it was what he wanted – and her darling Charlie was her one weak spot. He had hoped that she’d take on the challenge, and she had. He’d done no more manipulation than that – dammit, West had refused to fix the results, like Charlie had hoped. No, he’d insisted, with that damned stubborn attitude of his, that the details would go in as usual, and the program would do its work. The new clients would take their chances, and be matched – or not. The agency would be saved – or it wouldn’t. Charlie had nagged at him, but knew in the end he stood no chance of shifting Aidan West’s principles. So he’d prayed instead. And – of all the clients – it was his own, so often infuriating Mother who had come through for them. “Charlie, is this for real?” interviewed her, did I?”

Nic was still stunned.

“I never

Charlie flushed deeply. “No. I confess I made sure of that. It was the same time I was applying for this job. Last thing I wanted was for my dear Mother to ruin my chances with her somewhat scathing tongue. You left the interviewing to one of your managers that day.” 159

Clare London “I remember,” said Nic. He stared at Charlie. “I thought it was more important that I saw potential assistants, than clients. I left the scheduling to Patti, though.” Charlie flushed again. “Well … yeah. I’d call that evidence of your superior management skills, wouldn’t I? Despite the fact that Patti and I were at summer school together, one glorious year in our youth. The things I know about her … she owed me a small favor.” Nic started to smile, shaking his head. “What did your mother put down for preferred sexual profile?” Charlie grimaced. “Knowing Mother, something along the lines of ‘deceased’!” Nic winced, but his assistant laughed. “Nic, don’t expect any delicacy from Mother. She’ll tell you – and the US public – that she taught those sarcastic chat show darlings how to bitch, and the bad boy rock stars how to swear. Dammit, she’s still fighting that astonishing case with the Senator and the things he so unwisely said about her on radio. And as for the slanging match at last year’s Oscars between her and the number one recording star in America…!” His face softened a little. “Nic – she did, genuinely, join the agency at its launch. Despite her very acid public persona, she’s as vulnerable in relationships as any of us. Since she divorced my father – and probably even before then – she’s had the most appalling record with men, and plenty of angst, particularly in the marriage bed department. My succession of stepfathers has proved fertile material for far too many of her shows.” He gazed at Nic, thrilled to see a smile back on his boss’s face. "She’ll never tell anyone, Nic, but she’s like a young girl again. It’s almost nauseating, to see her so romantically happy with Libby. And, in a rare moment of filial devotion, I’ll confess how pleased I am for her!” Nic grinned, still shaking his head. He was trying to assess what all this meant. He wasn’t surprised to realize he couldn’t find the appropriate words. “Enjoy, dear man,” Charlie grinned. “With Mother’s endorsement they’ll flock in now, you wait and see. It’ll become the latest designer accessory – to have been 'matched' by the genderfriendly agency! ‘Sparks – the agency that matches you to a true soul 160

Sparks Fly mate – that knows you better than you know yourself’!’ He moved to Nic, and spontaneously hugged the shocked man as he stood by his desk. “Nic, they’ll love you again, you see. By the end of the week, the shareholders’ initial shock will be condemned as narrowmindedness, Sparks will be hailed by the fickle press as groundbreaking, and the attacks on you will be so bitterly regretted that the network bosses may give me Amanda’s spot on ‘Morning Glory’ as compensation. And as for the share price; have you seen in the late editions how it’s doubled?” But Nic’s face had closed as Charlie babbled on, and the assistant let his words trail off. Nic didn’t seem as thrilled as he might be by the change in fortunes. “And what did you tell me just a while ago?” murmured Nic. “‘Fuck the share price’, you said. Do you think I’ll be so easily flattered by a press that turned on me so viciously, just days ago? I think there’s been a greater lesson to all this, Charlie, than just how to seek public popularity. You yourself made the comment about how accommodating I’ve been – too accommodating, I think your words were.” Charlie stared at him for a while. “I guess so. You’re right, boss. So let me give you some advice – one more good deed, in return for all you've done for me.” Nic frowned, but Charlie continued before he could phrase any protest. “Get away, Nic. Get away for a long while, see what it is you want from your life. Take a vacation – a trek, an adventure, whatever. Leave them all behind! They’ll manage, or they won’t. But you need to spend some time on yourself.” Nic looked back at him, not agreeing or denying it. Charlie wondered whether he’d still have a job at the end of the week, but thought it wise not to ask at this particular moment. “Just one question, Charlie –” Nic’s voice was that soft, seductive tone that Charlie knew far too well. That he knew would wheedle the truth out of him where hot coals might not. His heart sank. 161

Clare London “Who helped you run live matches through the test system – which is where I assume this plot was hatched?” Charlie gulped. “Never mind. Guess I know.” Was Nic smiling or scowling? Was he angry at the work Charlie had done with West? More to the point, would Aidan West pull out Charlie’s fingernails for letting Nic find out? “Okay,” sighed Charlie. “Let me know if I need to increase my life insurance. But I won’t apologize for doing it, for trying to save the agency. Just remember – get away, take a break.” He sidled back out of the office, pausing with his hand on the door. He turned a mischievous look to Nic. “And take him with you, eh?”

CHARLIE slipped away as Nic took the round of congratulations around the office. The phones were already ringing, begging his response. Applications were arriving on the fax; handed in at the door. The agency was back in business, with a vengeance. Charlie decided he ought to call his Mother and take her out for lunch. And maybe it was time to meet one of her Jewish matchmaker friends. To play his part at last. It would be what she expected. He smiled at the thought. He stopped by West’s desk as he left, though there was no sign of the guy. He’d left the office some days ago, and had been working from home ever since. Charlie wanted to leave him a note, to thank him. But he knew that’d be pathetic, and West would neither expect nor understand it. “It was your programming that saved us, West,” he murmured, though no one else was in earshot. “The damned program had to deliver, after all the hype, and it did. Not just to Mother, eh?” He grinned, tapped a cheerful tattoo on West’s desk, and continued on out of the building.

162

Sparks Fly

NIC arrived back at his apartment late in the evening, long after everyone else had left work. And Aidan was waiting for him in the corridor. Nic paused as he came out of the elevator, wondering for a second if he were hallucinating – if it were some kind of wish fulfillment. He marveled at his sudden loss of breath; the painful tightness that clutched his chest. He’d not seen Aidan since the day of Amanda’s arrest, over a week ago. There’d been no time to talk, what with the shock of the revelations, and the interminable police interviews, and then the ravening press, swamping him from the minute he stepped out of the station door. Aidan had been swept away, refusing a lift back to his apartment, vanishing into the subway instead. And he’d not been in contact since. Nic took a deep breath, and walked toward his door. He leaned past Aidan to reach the lock, trying his best not to feel the heat of the man standing there, the breath on his face as their bodies got close. He realized with vivid shock just how much he’d missed him – the wave of physical memory was astoundingly strong. He thought he’d been managing easily without him. More fool, me. He turned his key, very conscious of Aidan at his shoulder. Standing there, waiting. 163

Clare London “Are you coming in?” he asked, as gently as his beating heart allowed him. “Uh-huh.” “A ‘yes’ uh-huh?” said Nic – a sorry little joke. But Aidan smiled. “Yes.” They moved into the apartment, Aidan quickly familiarizing himself with it again, folding his jacket neatly on the arm of the couch. He sat down, not allowing himself to lean right back into its comfortable cushions. The couch…. Nic shook himself, moved swiftly to the fridge by the door and pulled out some bottled beers. He handed one to Aidan and sat down in the armchair opposite him, deliberately keeping some space between them, despite his whole body aching to be close again. He took a long draft from the bottle, needing to calm himself somehow. “Have you been avoiding me, Aidan?” “No,” Aidan said, quickly. Then he frowned, angry with himself for the obvious lie. He opened his mouth – closed it again. Put the bottle down on the table, untouched. He couldn’t believe the unsettling effect of being with Nic again, here in the hotel suite where they’d…. He shook himself, mentally. Every inch of his skin seemed raw, as if he stood naked in a sandstorm. Every time Nic moved, Aidan felt a tug in his chest; when Nic spoke, he shivered. Aidan felt on the edge of an emotional precipice, and a wind was buffeting around him, threatening to tip him over. Nic bit back a sigh. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Aidan’s mouth. He was hanging on the other man’s every word. “What’s up? Are you still angry with Amanda? Worried about the program?” “No. That’s all been repaired. I’ve restored the data to the live system, and installed the new search on there as well. Sparks is back in business, and with a whole new security system, too.” “Hackers beware, eh?” Nic smiled ruefully. 164

Sparks Fly Aidan frowned. “Exactly. It won’t happen again.” Nic shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about Sparks. But if it kept Aidan West in his apartment, he’d talk about the weather, whatever, for as long as it took. Aidan cleared his throat, carefully. “From what I’ve read in the papers, you have your reputation back, and further success. I’m – I’m very glad about that.” Nic was staring at him. Aidan could feel the bright, vivid eyes burning a path from his neck to his forehead. This had maybe been a bad idea, to come to his apartment. A painful idea. But how could he tell Nic that he couldn’t keep away? “Yeah, I’m glad as well.” Something in Nic’s tone made Aidan look up sharply. “Glad that it’s given me a chance to rethink. For maybe the first time, I’m considering whether that’s what I’m really after.” Aidan was puzzled at the mood Nic was in. He’d thought he would be back to his lively, confident self. Something was wrong. It caused a strange, sudden tug to his heart. “Whatever, Nic, it’s your decision. I’m in no position to judge you and the way you run your life. Mine’s fucked up as it is. I’m sorry if I’ve been offensive to you. I’m no better than you.” “And no worse!” snapped Nic. “Let’s forget the past, okay?” They glared at each other for a minute. What the hell’s going on? thought Nic. Did Aidan just want to argue – to provoke? He was weary from work, but there was a wild, sharp adrenalin flow in him. He was determined to have this man, and just as determined to know what he wanted in return! He couldn’t let it all slip away again. He sighed, calming his voice again. “Aidan, tell me why you came here tonight.” “I came … to see you,” said Aidan, slowly. He clasped his hands in his lap, twisting them so hard that it should have been painful, not that he noticed. “I want … I want … the other night … it was….” 165

Clare London His voice trailed off. This was all too difficult. Too unfamiliar. Too … he started to shake his head, miserably. Nic sighed again. His eyes drank in the other man; the dark, anguished eyes, the disheveled hair. The long, tight limbs. He remembered them in his bed. He wanted them there again. Damn him for being so difficult! “What do you want, Aidan? I’ve missed you, this last week. Like hell. But I’m not going to chase you. Is that what you’re worried about? If you want to back off … well, I won’t leap up and down for joy. But if that’s what you want….” “And you?” “You know what I want.” Nic stood up, and put his empty bottle on the table. He went to sit down again, but turned instead, and reached down to touch Aidan’s face. “I want you.” Aidan was silent. Nic slid his hand down, his fingers trailing at Aidan’s neck. He had to hold himself back with an effort, to stop at the shoulder. “I know you do,” Aidan said, quietly. There was no anger in his voice, no inflection. “You’re a predator, Nic.” Nic felt every nerve in his body tense up in a sudden, shocking fear. It was an accusation he’d heard before, but never in such a toneless, cold voice. Was that what Aidan really thought? Had he lost him for good? “Is it what Amanda said, in the police station? She said I’ll always move on, that I care for no one but myself. Is that what’s kept you away?” His throat was tight with pain. “I don’t want to be like that. I don’t set out to be predatory.” “But you allow it to happen. Everything’s so easy for you.” “Aidan, how can I defend myself?” Nic’s voice sounded cracked, even to himself. “It hasn’t always been like that. I had a hard time in my life when I was younger, but I choose not to dwell on that. I’ve had some lucky breaks, and I just want to take advantage of it all. Or wanted to.” He reached down and stroked Aidan’s chin. “You had 166

Sparks Fly a bad time, too, Aidan. As a young man; as a growing adult. Is that why you fight everything?” “Not everything,” Aidan said, bitterly. “Yes, everything,” countered Nic. “That’s how it seems to me.” “It's too strong to control!” Aidan blurted. “The desire –! The need for you….” How could he tell Nic about the dreams? For a week now, they’d been more real to him than his waking hours. And so much worse, now that he’d actually slept with Nic – now that he knew how the man really felt, smelled, tasted, sounded…! The dreams were full of Nic and Nic’s body, and his own body as well, stretching, reaching for him, throbbing with the need to hold him – and then the waking; waking to sweat-drenched sheets, hand clamped around his cock more often than not, fingers at his lips, searching for Nic there. Nic was gazing at him, his expression mournful. “You heard what she said about you, too. Wondering what tricks you’d had to play, to get me into bed.” His palm rested on Aidan’s shoulder, and for a second, the fingers gripped at him. “That’s not how it was. You know that. At least, not for me.” Aidan sighed. Nic’s touch was like a brand, he could feel the heat of his body even through his clothes. He struggled to try to match Nic’s words, Nic’s reasoning. “That’s all it is, for both of us, though in different ways. Just desire.” Nic made a sharp, strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Is that what you think this is? Just desire? Lust?” “I – don't know. Don’t question me like this!” I’m confused, he thought. I don’t know. “At the risk of repeating myself and pissing you off even more, why are you here, Aidan?” Nic tried to steady his voice but he knew it was shaking. He was uncharacteristically nervous – no, shit scared of messing this up any further. “I’ll tell you what I think,” he rushed on. “What I want to think. I want to believe it’s because you feel as strongly about me as I do about you. Because you think we’re good together. Is that possible, Aidan? Have you felt that way before – with anyone – since your teacher?” 167

Clare London I don’t know, thought Aidan, again. And then despised himself for another lie – of course he knew! But he couldn’t say it aloud. Couldn’t say that he’d never felt this way about anyone. Ever. He thought it was much more than lust – dammit, he knew it was! And he was terrified that it was…. His mouth opened and he spoke yet another lie. Several. “It was a one-night stand. That’s okay with me. I told you, I won’t judge you anymore. I don’t expect anything else from you.” “Fuck you!” hissed Nic. He pulled away, and the loss of his touch was like a blow to Aidan. “How can you say that? As if I do this every night, with every person I meet!” “No, I don’t think that…” Aidan shook his head. I open my mouth and I fuck up every time, he groaned to himself. His body was aching to touch Nic. To be touched back. What was he doing to them both? What was he saying? When what he really wanted was to shout it out – Please, Nic, hold me again! Whether he was one to Nic, or one of hundreds, he didn’t care! He’d take whatever he could get. He dragged his gaze up to Nic’s face, and met a look of the deepest desolation in those gorgeous, wide eyes. It took his breath away. How could the truth have hurt Nic so much? “Look, it’s no one’s fault. It’s the way it is. Our lives are too different. I’m not what you want.” “So you say.” Nic’s voice was tight with emotion. “For God’s sake!” Aidan snarled back, more comfortable with his usual defense; his anger. “You’re like Amanda then?” snapped Nic. “What?” “You think that’s all I’m capable of – brief, no-commitment fucks! You’re telling me who I am. What I want and don’t want. What I can and can’t handle. You’re using me! Seems like everyone is; I’m just the last to realize it.”

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Sparks Fly Aidan stared at him, not recognizing the flame in Nic’s eyes; the sudden change in his attitude. “Do you think I can't be faithful? That I can't commit to one person?” “Have you ever?” countered Aidan, on the defensive. Nic hated him for that second. But it was a fair point. “Aidan, do you want me to tell you I've had no one since you first kissed me? Wanted no one? Because that’s the truth! I can’t think of anyone else; I don’t want anyone else. I can’t see that going away, either, I can’t see myself moving on. I want the chance to prove that to you.” “No...” growled Aidan, though his heart started hammering faster, against his will. “It’s got nothing to do with me, what you do…. Christ, Nic, don’t you understand? It’s not just you! Fuck, it’s probably not you at all! I can’t handle it – I can’t handle personal relationships. I’ve never sustained anything past a few dates. I’m not worth the hassle.” “Crap!” Nic had had enough of this soul searching. He saw this gorgeous man in front of him, and he’d never in his life seen a man more worth the hassle! An angry, argumentative, aggressive man, who’d been shit-loads of trouble; who sat on the edge of Nic’s couch, scowling, a thin sheen of sweat on his hands, his wild hair falling over his brow. A man who had a fabulous brain, and a commitment to his work that scared everyone else off; a man who’d devoted his days and nights first to setting up, and then saving Nic’s company. An exciting man; a challenging man; a man that Nic didn’t really understand. A man who was hurting, and who was hurting him in return. Refusing to see that people can change. That history wasn’t always going to repeat itself. A man he’d been in bed with only a week ago, and wanted to have back there – sooner rather than later, dammit! He moved closer, and sat down on the arm of the couch. His thigh was close to Aidan’s shoulder. He saw from the way that Aidan clenched his body away from him that he was fully aware of it. 169

Clare London Good! “No one’s got all the answers, Aidan; there’s always risk. You just do what you can, enjoy what you can.” “Better to avoid risk.” Aidan’s voice was a gargle at the back of his throat. He was having trouble speaking. Nic’s body was much too close. “Better to be on your own.” “Nah … better to be together…” Nic murmured, bending his mouth to Aidan’s ear. “Stay with me.” He saw the flush start on the other man’s neck, saw his hands clench and open again. Oh Aidan, he sighed to himself. Why were they holding back from each other? It felt so right…. Any risk was worth that, wasn’t it? He didn’t know what else to say; Aidan West was a mystery to him. Had the Gerrard persuasion met its match? Nic did, instead, what he wanted desperately to do – which was to nip at Aidan’s neck. Aidan gasped, and stretched his throat up and away, instinctively baring it for him. “I’m tired. Don’t fight me,” Nic whispered. “I’m trouble. Don’t bother with me,” Aidan groaned. “Hush….” “You want me, Nic.” “Yes, that’s true.” “And you’ll take me….” Nic moaned softly, the delicious taste of Aidan’s angry sweat on his tongue. “Ahh … well, that’s not the first time you’ve been wrong about me. Takes one to take, Aidan … takes two to enjoy.” “You chase satisfaction all the time, nothing more –” Aidan was panting slightly, and his hand was moving up to grasp Nic’s shirtsleeve.

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Sparks Fly “While you’re freezing it out! Don’t you see? Isn’t there a middle ground for us?” He feels so good, thought Nic. His heart was racing, and his cock was starting to demand attention. Just to touch Aidan, even through his clothes; just to stroke his cheek, touch that pale, hot flesh…. “I can’t change my past, Aidan, but I’m damned sure I can do it for the future. I know what I feel for you is different from anything else I’ve ever felt. You have to forgive me for my life.” He felt Aidan shudder underneath his touch. The dark-haired man’s hand was sliding around his waist, tugging him toward him on the couch. “Give me a chance,” Nic gasped. “Give me some respect. You’re wrong about me, but I don’t know how to show you I mean it.” “Kiss me, then,” moaned Aidan, but Nic never had a chance because Aidan grabbed his hair and pulled his mouth down onto his first. “Perhaps I will do a bit of chasing after all!” groaned Nic in delight, the words muffled by Aidan’s glorious, questing tongue.

THEY fell on each other, tugging shirts up over their heads, Nic laughing as he tumbled down off the cushions and on to the floor. Aidan dropped on top of him, breathless. Nic recognized that shine in his eyes. He also recognized the edge of furniture rammed hard into his kidneys. “This fucking couch! I should either throw it out, or have it enshrined. Are we going to go straight to bed this time, or do I have to talk you around again?” “Bed is fine,” growled Aidan. “Couch is fine. Floor is fine –” He couldn’t get his hands on Nic fast enough, flipping the button of his pants, sliding into his boxers to find him. He dipped his head to find the patch of flesh just below the waistline. To lick at it. Nic shuddered.

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Clare London “Aidan,” he panted. He knew Aidan would have him there and then, and he felt the answering thrill. “Christ, I love your enthusiasm, but you’re going to have to work on channeling that aggression.” “I don’t know how I should be,” replied Aidan, mouth full of soft, tight skin. He wanted all of it – and he wanted it now. “When you get me like this – I feel like I’m mad and horny and out of control, all at once.” “Yeah, that works for me,” chuckled Nic. He drew in a sharp breath as Aidan’s tongue ran down under the waist of his boxers. He grabbed at the thick, dark hair of Aidan’s head and yanked him back up to face him. “We shouldn’t ignore this, Aidan, should we? This desire that you’re worried about? It’s so good! And all that’s happened – the trouble with Sparks, with Amanda. We’ve seen it all through together. It’s been the best time for me, the very best time –” “Yeah, right.” Nic talked way too much…. “No, it has been!” Nic was persistent, too. “Why are you so reluctant to believe I think a lot of you? That I want you for your company?” Aidan flushed, his lips pausing on Nic’s skin. “I don’t know.” “So what about me?” said Nic, his voice suddenly thick with a panic he could barely suppress. He pushed Aidan back, dragging his half-naked body back up to sitting. “Let’s get serious now, before it’s too late. Do you want my company as well? Or just the body? Do you want me?” Aidan couldn’t answer. He didn’t know what words to use to describe what he felt. He reached out for Nic’s body, to touch him, to find some anchor. Shockingly, Nic slapped his hand away. “No! Nothing doing. Not unless you agree to give it a chance. Not unless you give me something to go on.” He stared with some bitterness at Aidan’s surprise. “Didn’t think I could say no, did you?” “Damn you!” snapped Aidan. He could feel the anger rising again – it had lain dormant for days now, ever since he’d been to bed 172

Sparks Fly with Nic. Just thinking about that made him feel good, he realized. Until he let the other feelings in – the confusion, the fear, the pride. Idiot, he thought. I’m a fool. I’ve gone too far already…. “I want to despise you, Nic,” he spat out. He saw Nic flinch, but hold his gaze. “I want you to be the arrogant, manipulative bastard, who uses people – fucks them, in all senses of the word. That’s what you’ve been, in my mind. I want it to be so, so that I can resist you. I want – “I want you.” There was silence for a long minute. “You still think that way? The arrogant, manipulative bastard?” Nic’s voice was small, and very wary. Hurting. “No,” sighed Aidan. “Then –?” “It’s – difficult for me,” stammered Aidan. He couldn’t help it, he was leaning toward Nic, toward the fabulous, muscled, naked chest; the arms Nic had clenched to his sides; the unbuttoned pants. Aidan’s fingers tingled with the need to touch. And when he looked into Nic’s deep, expressive eyes, he saw he was being given a final chance – to be honest for them both. “Look, we could get together now and then sometimes, that’d be enough for me.” “Not for me,” stated Nic, his voice unnaturally quiet. “I’d just come around, you can call the times,” persisted Aidan, stubbornly. “You could, indeed. But I’m not going to let you in, not on those terms.” “Shit!” Aidan swore. “I’ll take your terms, then.” Nic’s eyes widened. “Not enough! Tell me what you want. What you want from me.” 173

Clare London “I’m no good at this!” “So practice!” snapped Nic. “Tell me – or leave.” Aidan felt the wave of misery swamp over him at the threat. And that’s it! he thought. The words began to spill out of him, stumbling but clear. “I want you, Nic. I want to be with you, and I want you to be with me. The thought of leaving you makes me feel sick. It – I’ve just felt it – just realized it. And not just because I’m aching for you, though I want to fuck you so badly I – I can’t speak properly! It’s because you lighten up everything in my life – you make me think about things all over again. You bring things into my life that I’ve kept out – but good things! Like laughing, and mixing with other people, and enjoying life. You make me come out into my life, connect with it; you make me say things I never could before, make me do things I was afraid of.” He stopped to draw breath; the brief second of silence around him was deafening. “You’ve done it again,” snarled Nic, his eyes suspiciously bright with moisture. “You drive me fucking mad, then you come out with poetry like that!” “It’s – it’s what you wanted to hear?” “Yeah … especially the bit about wanting to fuck me so badly.” “Nic … don’t joke….” “No, Aidan, I’m sorry. It’s good – it’s the best start. I needed to know. But no more talking.” He reached for the other man; touching at his chest almost wonderingly, watching it heave with emotion. It felt like they’d both been through some kind of catharsis. He caught Aidan’s hand in his and held it, almost painfully hard, then released the pressure. Dark brown eyes gazed back at him, and he knew the same look was in his own eyes – both of them without defenses. He pulled Aidan’s hand gently toward his lap and placed it on the painful bulge that advertised 174

Sparks Fly his arousal. With a hiss, Aidan slipped his fingers inside the loosened clothing, and massaged him slowly. Nic moaned aloud. “Man, that’s good … bed, now?” “You’re too used to your creature comforts,” murmured Aidan, licking his lips. “I should just push you on your back and make you take it now.’ Nic whimpered. “Come on, then,” Aidan breathed into his ear, tugging him up again. “I want to feel that cock in my hand, getting bigger. Pulsing. Weeping for me. I want to suck it and lick it and rub it hard against mine, so we can come together –” Nic was on his feet already.

THEY lay on their backs on the bed, side by side; uncovered; naked. There was sweat and plenty of other bodily fluids drying on their bodies. Their fingers were touching. “What did you mean earlier?” Aidan’s voice was very low. “About you having the biggest and best cock I’ve ever tasted?” grinned Nic, lazily. “No!” Aidan hissed. Nic turned his head and watched how the whole of Aidan’s body blushed. Cute! “Earlier than that. About having time to rethink.” Nic rolled over on to his side, his face close to the other man’s. When Aidan breathed, he felt the draft on his shoulder. If he stretched out a hand, he could touch the muscles of Aidan’s thigh, trace the movement as Aidan also shifted to face him. Nic licked his lips and resisted the temptation … just for now. “I guess this crisis at the agency made me ask – what do I really get out of all this business? All I see now is how fragile it is – the fame, the 175

Clare London glamour. How shallow the loyalty of the media is. They turned fast enough on me, didn’t they? Don’t get me wrong, I understand it’s their job. But it doesn’t have to be mine, to pander to them. I’m going to take some time out.” Aidan’s breath caught for a second. From Sparks?”

“From the businesses?

Nic shrugged, the mattress dipping underneath him with the lazy gesture. “I’ve got managers, haven’t I? It’ll give them a chance to make their own mark. I mean, I won’t let them forget me. But there are other things I want to do with my life, that I’ve been putting on hold for too long now. Things a little more worthwhile.” “The Rapport Trust?” “You continue to amaze me, Mr. West,” sighed Nic. “How’d you find out about that? But yeah, I want to spend more time there, where I can make a real difference. They don’t care there who I am, so long as someone helps them.” He yawned, and decided the temptation of Aidan’s body was just too much for a weak man like him to resist any longer. He would reach out, and he would touch that thigh … then he’d roll his fingers almost casually into that valley between them, and see what he might catch. Again. Delicious…. “Aidan….” “Uh-huh?” Aidan sighed. His head sank back on the pillow, his eyes half closed with bliss. Nic’s fingers were hot and damp around his groin, and his head felt like it was turning to marshmallow…. “How do you feel about helping me? Coming into it with me, into the Trust? Could you – would you be interested in working on something like that? You know … only if you wanted.” Aidan turned his head, and gazed into Nic’s nervous face. “You mean on computer work?” Nic grimaced. “Maybe not, no. There’s not a hell of a lot of computers involved, to be honest. Just leg work and telephone calls, and begging and borrowing resources. Then some physical stuff like ferrying people and furniture about, checking kids in off the street, 176

Sparks Fly finding reliable caterers….” He sighed. “Not really your thing, I guess.” Aidan bit his lip. He knew now what it meant for Nic to have asked that. He wasn’t going to let him down on that, whatever happened. “It sounds good. I’d be glad to talk about it with you.” “Yeah?” “But I don’t do cold calls.” Aidan frowned, but he was smiling at the same time. “That’s your department, charming people. Selling … buying. But anything else, I can shift stuff and organize schedules, as well as you can.” He smirked. “Probably a hell of a lot better.” Nic huffed in mock protest. Actually, though, he could feel himself flush with pleasure. And maybe with relief too, at considering sharing his pet project with someone else. “But hey, I’m going to take a vacation first.” He hitched himself up on one elbow, looking down on Aidan who lay spread out on the crumpled sheet. The dark-haired man seemed perfectly at home with his nakedness, nudging himself up against Nic’s exploring hands. “Come away with me, Aidan. Will you? Wherever you want. A beach, to ski … what do you like to do on vacation?” Aidan smiled through heavy lidded eyes, and yawned comfortably, his back arching up against Nic. Nic’s heart flipped a few beats at the sensuous sight. “I don't take vacations, Nic. Never have. When have you ever signed off a vacation form for me?” “Never,” murmured Nic, undeterred. “That means I can choose, then?” “You need the rest yourself, you don't have to invite me,” replied Aidan, stubbornly. But it was difficult to concentrate on his dignity, when Nic’s hand was fisting around his cock again, his little finger brushing teasingly at the loose skin of Aidan’s sac. He was astonished at how quickly he could recover – how swiftly he wanted Nic again. “I didn't say that I'd come –” “Gorgeous man, I guarantee you’ll do that,” grinned Nic, and pumped with a little more determination. Aidan stretched out, 177

Clare London beginning to pant. “The things I want to do to you will take more than a couple of hours in the working week.” “No … Nic, look, some of us have got to work!” “Christ, Aidan, must everything be a battle with you? The damned place can manage without you, same as me! For a while, at least. Anyway, this isn't a charity invitation. Fact is, I’m not going without you.” “Beach, then,” Aidan mumbled. “Sand, water sports, snorkeling–” He started to thrust his hips up in time with the pressure of Nic’s hand. “Rolling waves, sex, too much food and drink, sex, tanned skin that smells – and tastes – of the sun, sex….” “Always come back to sex, Gerrard?” “With you – always.” Nic could feel Aidan’s hunger rising; could feel his need straining against his hand. It was as strong as ever. He wondered if it ever waned. If Aidan was ever going to be passive. “A change in my life is long overdue, Aidan,” he murmured. He realized how good he felt about the decisions he was making now. “And you’re part of that.” “Ahh, no….” “Yes! Get used to me, Aidan. Loosen up a little; share a little.” “The way I am – it’s nothing to do with you, Nic –” “Yes it is, now, because I care about you. Because I want to be part of your life, and have you part of mine. For a long time.” Aidan flushed. He knew it was because he believed Nic at last. But he was still afraid to admit it to himself. “I don’t know. I mean, you say that now, because you want me – we want each other –” Nic paused in his caresses. “What? You think I’m saying all this because I want to fuck you? My dick’s leading my head?” “Yeah…” Aidan laughed, a little ashamed. “Well, maybe….” 178

Sparks Fly “I said you were an arrogant prick, didn’t I?” Nic frowned, but his eyes sparkled with something gentler. “Sure, I want to fuck you. As soon as I see you, I want to fuck you, you know? And that’s through the mattress and out the other side. And as soon as I’ve done it, I’ll want to do it again. But that’s not the only reason I want us to be together.” “Be realistic, Nic,” Aidan groaned, softly. He wriggled, uncomfortable, needing the blessed relief from Nic’s hands to start again. “Who knows what’ll happen in the future? I can’t risk a commitment, can’t risk letting you down.” “You can’t not risk it,” ground out Nic. “I deserve a chance, don’t I?” “You deserve something better than me.” “No! Hear me out.” Nic stopped stroking him, lifting his hands from Aidan’s body completely. “I’m going to stay the course for you, okay? That’s what I want. Jesus, haven’t I put up with enough of your bad temper to persuade you of that?” He laughed, rather shakily. “You think I’ve had any better time of it, any better role models to go by? No, I’ve never seen enough robust relationships in my time to teach me what to do. Maybe you were right when you said I’d never been faithful, never been committed to one person before. I’ve certainly never been away with anyone before, like I’m asking you.” “Your friend … Greg….” Nic grimaced. “We were lovers. He gave me somewhere to live, helped me get started. I was very close to him for a while, I admit. But it wasn’t….” “Wasn’t what?” Aidan stared at him. Do you know what you’re asking? Nic wondered. He didn’t think he could speak the word just yet. Love. But wasn’t that exactly what he felt? “It wasn’t special, like this,” he said, softly. “That’s how much I want you – to start something special with you. And to work on it, to make it even better. Even stronger.” He looked back down at Aidan, 179

Clare London naked and shivering with desire beneath him, and his breath shortened. He settled Aidan’s cock back in his palm, starting to slick it slowly again, damp with its pre-come. With the other hand, he slid a finger in through Aidan’s pursed lips, feeling for his tongue. “You don’t have to promise me anything,” he whispered. “Don’t sign anything! Just be honest with me, Aidan. That’s all I ask. You know what a fanatic I am for that.” Aidan sucked thoughtfully on the finger. Let it linger inside his mouth. Imagined something else there. “You’ve always been honest with me, Nic. Even when I gave you shit, I knew that.” “Yeah,” Nic smiled. He shifted beside him, starting to feel uncomfortably cramped, his reawakening erection bobbing against his belly with enthusiasm. “But perhaps not always with myself.” “Uh-huh. So where do we go from here?” asked Aidan. His voice sounded hoarse. Even without Nic’s fingers sliding in and out between his lips, he didn’t seem to have much breath for talking any more. Nic grinned down at him, his eyes wide and hungry. He tugged down Aidan’s lower lip and dragged his finger out with a satisfying plop. “Want to fuck me?”

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AIDAN’S head came up from between Nic’s legs, his tongue trailing the silver thread of saliva from Nic’s balls to the tip of his cock, and dribbling it back down on to his belly. “God…” groaned Nic. “Don’t stop there! Go down again!” “No…” murmured Aidan. “Something better….” Eyes half-closed with passion and excitement, Nic heard Aidan rummaging in the drawer beside the bed with one hand, grabbing out the lube and a condom. His other hand was still pumping Nic’s wet, aching cock, easing the pre-come and his saliva gently over it, all over it. Nic reached his hands behind his head, lacing his fingers there. His chest stretched out, his head went back. He had some idea of how abandoned he must look, relaxing back for Aidan’s superb blowjob. He knew Aidan would like looking at him; he knew what hungry light he’d see in Aidan’s eyes. He didn't think he'd ever get enough of Aidan. Well – maybe after forty-odd years … and then some. In the background, there was the soft ‘pop’ sound of Aidan opening the bottle of lube. Smiling to himself, Nic rolled over languidly, pulling himself up to his hands and knees. His head dropped and his legs spread open, and he waited for Aidan’s touch. And then Aidan slid an arm under his waist and flipped him back down on the bed, rolling him over on to his side. Nic fell down with a whoosh of surprised breath. The condom packet spun silently across the bed and fell beside him. 181

Clare London “What –?” “Hush, Nic. I want you to – just let me – just watch…” and Aidan lay himself down on the bed at his side. As Nic gazed across at the long, strong limbs stretched out in front of him, Aidan spread his legs very deliberately. Nic looked into his face, wondering. Aidan hooked his hands under his knees and pulled his legs up and apart. It exposed everything to Nic. “Aidan...” he whispered. “Shit.” It was the most wanton thing he'd ever seen. Aidan's hands wavered, and then he seemed to gather up his confidence. He started to run his fingers along the inside of his thighs. The muscles quivered, and Nic watched, entranced, as Aidan’s balls shifted, as if beckoning him. Aidan’s cock bounced up toward his chest – big, and red and already glistening. He twisted his fingers into his short, dark pubic curls, then ran them lightly up and down the needy cock. And then he walked them slowly – agonizingly slowly – down under his balls and around to his small, puckered entrance. Nic thought he had probably just died; he knew he’d ceased to breathe. Aidan was surprised, through a fog of passion and tension, that this felt so good. He’d never done this before – not even for himself. He didn't think he'd ever felt so uninhibited in his life, but he knew what he wanted. He wanted to seduce Nic – he wanted to capture him. He wanted to give him the one thing that he'd never shared with a lover since his first. Control. “Nic…” he whispered hoarsely. Gently, experimentally, he slid his middle finger into the hole. It was slick from the lube he’d spread over himself, but it still felt a little odd. But good…. “Aidan … Goddammit…..” “I want you to take me, Nic,” he sighed. He tried another finger alongside the first. Hitched up his hips to get a better angle. He saw Nic staring at him, mouth hanging open. “Don’t just sit there like an idiot – don’t you want me?” 182

Sparks Fly Yeah! thought Nic, stunned. Like he didn’t dream about it a couple of times every hour! But he suspected the importance of this to Aidan. “Hey, but I don’t mind. I'm just as happy being bottom.” “No!” Aidan ground out. He was thrusting the two fingers in and out of his ass, concentrating on keeping Nic’s fascinated attention. He could see Nic’s dick curved up against his belly, swelling heavily in anticipation. It was big, he could see that, now that he was considering it from a very different point of view, but he was also distracted by the excitement of fingering himself. His own cock was stirring, his balls nudging against his wrist. If it was this good with his own fingers, what would it be like with Nic’s cock? “That's the point!” he hissed. “I want my turn at bottom. I want you here – I want your fingers – your cock inside me.” Nic groaned. How the hell was he meant to hold back from this? He knelt up, resting on his heels, and reached for the bottle of lube lying on the mattress beside Aidan. As he spread a generous amount on to his own hand, he watched Aidan fingering himself. His whole body felt flushed – he could feel the blood racing all around his veins, his pulse hammering in his head. Leaning forward, he gently withdrew Aidan’s hand, and slid his own finger in. Aidan shuddered once, then his legs relaxed again. He moaned softly, with pleasure. It fit perfectly – a tight, snug fit. Nic marveled at the fierce suction around his digit. He couldn’t see how his cock would ever go in there, however much they both wanted it. “Another…” moaned Aidan. Nic obliged. The hole parted reluctantly for it, then closed in again on him. His other hand strayed to his own cock, stroking it gently. It was all too fucking exciting…. “Aidan,” he panted. “Do you – do this often?” Aidan paused in his wriggling. “Never. Not since my first lover. My tutor.” 183

Clare London Shit, thought Nic. I know I wanted honesty, but –! “Aidan, I don't want to hurt you. Maybe we should wait – think about it later.” Aidan reached underneath his thighs and grabbed Nic’s wrist, forcing it up close against his ass, keeping the fingers secure inside him. “Another, Nic. Stretch me. Then I’ll be ready.” “Wait….” “You’re chickening out?” Aidan growled. Nic didn’t answer, because his chest was too tight with worry and lust. He didn’t know which one was winning until he pressed his third finger in, and felt Aidan stretch and moan under him. “Yesss….” They writhed for a while. Nic moved Aidan’s legs further apart, pushing his knees higher up so that he could watch his fingers going in and out, see the excitement rippling across the other man’s stomach muscles. His own cock was thick and full and desperate for him. “Do it!” hissed Aidan. “Nic, take me. I want to be yours. I want to do this for you. With you.” Nic shifted in between the up-stretched legs and pulled out his fingers. Aidan whimpered a little at the loss. “Shall I turn over?” “No,” whispered Nic. “I want to see you. I want to see your face.” He looked down at his own cock. He was very close to climax, and at his most swollen. When he opened the condom with shaking fingers, it barely stretched over the aching flesh. Every touch made him shiver, and nearly lose it. He smoothed the lube over himself, wincing at the shock reaction it set up. Then he placed his hands on Aidan’s knees, and pushed the legs further up and apart. His dick pressed up against Aidan’s pale red, blossoming, cutely puckered hole. It looked as tight as ever. They stared at each other. Aidan’s eyes were fevered; there were beads of sweat at his throat. And then he smiled at Nic. With a gargled moan, Nic started to push in. It was the most exciting, most thrilling thing he’d ever done! His cock felt sucked in, tugged from its base and then clenched into a tight, hot sheath. He 184

Sparks Fly pulled back a little, afraid of hurting Aidan, but thrust back in quickly, unable to leave the heaven that held him. “Is it – it’s no good –?” came Aidan’s muffled cry. He’d been right – it was nothing like his own fingers. It was a thousand times better! It had hurt like hell at first, but now Nic was deep up inside him, and he’d stretched to accommodate him. And there was a spot that Nic was pressing inside him, each time he thrust, that made stars appear in front of Aidan’s eyes, and his cock shudder in desperation between them. But he could also feel Nic’s hesitation. “Dammit, no, it's not you –” Nic panted. “You’re so tight, you’re the greatest – it’s too good –! Oh fuck, I’m way too excited….” He knew he probably had nothing but seconds left – he’d never disgraced himself so quickly before! He could feel the tension in his balls, tightening up close against Aidan’s thighs; he could feel the racing heat through his groin, the sudden loss of focus in his sight. If this was dying and going to heaven, he was going for a season ticket! He seated Aidan’s legs on his thighs and put his left hand on Aidan’s hip to anchor himself, then stretched out his right hand to take hold of Aidan’s cock. “Come with me, Aidan,” he gasped. “Like I did for you.” Aidan could hardly breathe. His heart felt full and like it might burst out of his chest. He clutched the sheet on either side of him, swinging his head from side to side in what looked like a pointless plea for help. The invasion of his body had become instead the joining of him and Nic – a fusion; a melding of them both together. He could see the sweat on Nic’s brow; see the helpless ecstasy in his eyes, as they thrust together. He wanted him in further – he wanted him so deep in him that they became one. The rough pumping of his cock was a distraction, but one his aching body needed. With a gulping moan, he bucked harder into Nic’s hand, just as he felt his lover’s cock grind up even further into him, and spasm inside. Nic was gasping his name, groaning his delight as he came at last. Aidan felt a wave of triumph and excitement; he’d done it! He’d taken Nic in, and pleased him, and he could relax into his own 185

Clare London satisfaction now. He reached a hand up and clasped Nic’s fingers even tighter around his cock, and jerked once; twice. He couldn’t wait any longer himself, and he came, groaning and spilling come all over them, just as Nic’s muscles seemed to desert him and his body fell halfway down on top of Aidan’s. They just lay there, panting, moaning with the aftershock. Nic had his arm thrown over Aidan, his fingers caressing his neck; stroking him with a possessive wonder. Aidan lay still for as long as he could, until the weight of Nic’s body started to squeeze too much breath out of him. He accepted Nic’s touch with a bliss that both consumed and comforted him. He didn’t think it was possible to feel this good! Exhausted; and sated; and totally spent. And over it all, the most beautiful, alien feeling of togetherness. He realized now with a humbling clarity what it was that Nic had shown him; what he’d tried to show him before, in bed and out of it. That it was a gift to find something that was more than just pure physical satisfaction. More than just relief – more than just fucking. What had this night been? He knew the real answers now. It had been sex to be shared. Sex with care. Sex with – possibly – love.

IT was two o’clock in the morning, and the IT suite at Sparks head office was dark and deserted. Or perhaps not. The security had been increased substantially since the hacking incident, and no one entered without the proper authorization. But there was a man there now, a silhouette in the dark. One blinking screen. His hands fast on the keyboard. But there were no alarms ringing throughout the building, because it was Aidan West; arguably the man with the most right to be here at any time he chose.

186

Sparks Fly Then another shadow suddenly materialized by the door, and even before there was time to announce itself, it shifted away from the wall and it also became a man. Another man who had every right to be there. A man whose bed Aidan had just left. “Nic! What are you doing here?” I never heard you come in, Aidan thought, wonderingly. He stood up, pushing the chair back. He’d been so obsessed with himself and his task…. “I could say the same to you.” Nic’s voice was low, but harsh. “Running out on me again?” “No!” snapped Aidan, but he was suddenly afraid of hurting this man. Where before there would have been anger, now there was a more poignant emotion. There wasn’t just himself to consider. “I came to erase the data – to erase the test system. Didn’t you see my note?” “Note?” “Uh-huh. On the bedside table. I woke in the night and I couldn’t settle. I had to come and finish this.” He left a note! sang Nic’s inner voice. Aidan had told him where he was going; he’d told Nic because he knew Nic would want to know; he knew he’d care. Maybe he’d anticipated Nic’s reaction to finding him gone! “Didn’t you see it?” Aidan looked puzzled and worried. “No.” But Nic was grinning. What did that matter now? The confused misery of the last hour, after finding Aidan gone again, was pushed happily and impatiently from his mind. “Guess the dog ate it.” Knowing Aidan might miss the joke, and before he could ask him in that too-serious way he had, 'what dog?’, Nic came to stand beside him. “So why are you running the matching again?” “What? No, I told you, I’m just erasing –”

187

Clare London “No you’re not,” said Nic, firmly. “I may not be as bright at this as you, but I recognize my own program at work. You want to know, don’t you?” “Know what?” “Exactly what I’ve come to find out myself,” was Nic’s soft reply. Aidan could see his smile, full of white teeth, shining in the dim light. “To find out who Sparks matched us with. You never took either of us off the database, did you?” “No … but the hacker had tampered with the test system, Nic. It may have been corrupted. Who’s to say it works properly?’ “Worked on Marisa Cohen, didn’t it?” said Nic. “What’s up, Mr. West? Afraid of finding out the answer?” “No!” said Aidan, hotly. “Seems to me you’re believing your own publicity now. It was just a test system.” “But you told it the truth, didn’t you? When you put in your own data?” “Uh-huh.” “So did I.” They stood together, unsure whether to be afraid or amused. Nic lifted a hand and brushed lightly at Aidan’s hip. He gave an embarrassed cough. “I confess I don’t want to find I’ve been matched with one of those spotty youths in Accounts. Or Charlie.” “Or his mother,” agreed Aidan, wryly. In their minds, they ran through a selection of other, equally unwelcome possibilities within the company. There was silence for a minute. “Remember our 'animals’,” said Nic, musingly. “Panther and tiger?” He put out a hand and rested it comfortably on Aidan’s shoulder. He remembered the touch of that as they’d drifted to sleep, feeling warmed by the memory trails of pleasure. “I said once we might fight. After all, that’s what we’re always doing, on and off, 188

Sparks Fly aren’t we? What’s the betting there’s a hundred incompatibilities like that between us?” “Uh-huh. But the program allows for that. Many of those incompatibilities, as you say, may be complements. The partners may co-exist, not clash.” “Shit, West, you’re off with the poetry again! Sometimes I think you have a better idea than I do of what a relationship's about.” He squeezed Aidan’s shoulder, and Aidan leaned back into him, instinctively. “We don’t have to look, do we?” Nic had thought he said it, but Aidan appeared to have beaten him to it. “No.” Nic smiled again in the darkness. He turned Aidan’s face to him and kissed him. Slowly; sensuously. Feeling for the moist, hot, eager lips in the darkness. He tasted wicked – like an illicit secret; a rich indulgence just for Nic’s pleasure, the two of them embracing here in the middle of the empty office. Nic wanted desperately to bend him over the nearest desk, tug down those borrowed sweat pants he was wearing, and fuck him – hard – stretched across the keyboard! He sighed. Probably not a good idea tonight, when he hadn’t time to disable the CCTV cameras – but wasn’t that such a lost, golden opportunity? Smirking to himself, he filed it away for future reference. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Not looking?” “No,” Aidan smiled back. He put out a careful hand, there was a flash of fingers on the keys, and the screen blinked and died. Nic slid a hand around his lover’s waist and yawned loudly. He could feel his erection nudging at his own loose pants. He’d not bothered with dressing properly, coming back to the office just on a hunch that Aidan would be there. He seemed to have forgotten his boxers; he’d been too worried about Aidan. But all was well, wasn’t it? And he wanted Aidan back between the sheets to celebrate. 189

Clare London “Can we get back to bed now? Leave your car here – I’ll run you back, in the morning, when we can sign off that vacation form of yours. I love my system, Aidan, but I’m not living by it. We know the real result anyway, don’t we? We’ve got it here already….” “Of course,” Aidan agreed, as he followed Nic out. He flipped the alarm system back on as they passed the door, stopping one last time to look over at the still-warm terminal. He smiled, with a comfort and contentment that he’d not known for years. Yes – he already knew the real result. Didn’t he?

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Clare London    

Clare London Clare took the pen name London from the city where she lives, loves,  and writes. She juggles fiction with a frantic family life and waits for  the far distant day when she can afford to give up her day job as an  accountant.  She’s  written  in  many  genres  and  across  many  settings,  with  short  stories  published  both  online  and  in  print  anthologies.  Most  of  her  work  features  male/male  romance  and  drama,  with  a  healthy  serving  of  erotica,  as  she  enjoys  both  reading  and  writing  about strong, sympathetic and sexy characters.  Clare currently has a fantasy novel in the process of publication, two  more  nearing  the  submission  stage  and  plenty  of  other  projects  in  mind . . . she just has to find out where she left them in amongst the  frantic family life.  Visit Clare’s Website at http://www.darkpearldiva.com/   

 

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Novels from Dreamspinner Press Alliance in Blood by Ariel Tachna Paperback $11.99 ISBN: 978-0-9815084-9-8

232 pages eBook $5.99 ISBN: 978-0-9817372-1-8

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The Archer by Abigail Roux Paperback $19.99 ISBN: 978-0-9815084-8-1

576 pages eBook $8.99 ISBN: 978-0-9817372-0-1

Rocked to the core by traitors and spies, the Organization made an unprecedented move in bringing together six highly trained men to track down one rogue wolf: The Archer. There are three field agents: one at the top of his game, one hoping to retire, and another walking the line; a coldblooded assassin who can use any weapon known to man; a demolitions expert who can’t resist the allure of fire; and a computer hacker with more tricks in his mouse than Houdini. This team is made up of the best of the best, and if it can’t succeed in this impossible mission, no one can. But no plan survives first contact with the enemy – especially when you can’t even find out who he is! Despite what a cluster the assignment is from the start, the six men try to get their act together to track down the rogue operative, and in the process they discover there’s more to life than the next assignment. Now it’s up to them to survive by working together and determining who the real traitor is: an unknown friend, a close-by enemy, or the Organization itself.

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Caught Running by Urban & Roux Paperback $11.99 ISBN: 978-0-9801018-8-1

236 pages eBook $5.99 ISBN: 978-0-9801018-9-8

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208 pages eBook $5.99 ISBN: 978-0-9817372-9-4

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Jack Christensen has everything he ever wanted. He's a rising star in US Diplomacy, the youngest man to have been appointed as an Ambassador of the United States. A career diplomat who's just been sent to a politically interesting Embassy in Europe, he has the perfect wife, speaks five languages and has all the right credentials, yet there's something missing and he doesn't quite know what. Then Lucas Carlton walks into an Embassy reception and introduces himself and his American fiancée. From the first handshake, the young Englishman makes an impression on Jack that leaves him confused and uncharacteristically insecure. Lucas' position as the British liaison to the American Embassy means they are forced to work together closely and they have a hard time denying the attraction between them, despite their current relationships. Diplomatic circles are notoriously conservative though, and they each know that the right woman by their side makes a very significant contribution to their success. Will they be able to make the right choices in their professional and personal lives? Or will they need to sacrifice one for the other?

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Gold Warrior by Clare London Paperback $11.99 ISBN: 978-0-9815084-4-3

240 pages eBook $5.99 ISBN: 978-0-9815084-5-0

Maen is a Gold Warrior, a defender of Aza City, a world controlled by the Queen and her womankind where the best of men are maintained for the military and the women's pleasure. A favorite of his imperious Mistress and a leader among his men, Maen is too cautious to seek casual sexual satisfaction and so stays alone, taking his comfort in ensuring a stable and controlled world. That world is thrown into disarray by Dax, a bold and challenging new Bronze soldier who excites Maen with his fierce hero worship and leads them to a forbidden affair. They find themselves thrown together in a dangerous and hostile environment without the support of the City and far away from their loyalties, and Maen finds himself risking everything for Dax – his position; his loyalties; and eventually, his life.

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308 pages eBook $6.99 ISBN: 978-0-9817372-5-6

A pair of working man novellas. Under Contract Site foreman Ted Lucas moved to Birmingham, leaving a full life behind, only to discover something - someone - to look forward to. Assistant Nick Cooper catches his eye, and even more incredibly, Lucas's heart, all without a word. When Lucas finds out Cooper's asked to be transferred, he bites the bullet and admits his feelings. Intrigued, Cooper offers Lucas one night to figure out if that love could possibly be real. Over the Road Truck driver Elliot Cochran meets 'McLean' while talking on the CB and strikes up an unusual friendship. One evening, McLean tells Elliot he needs to go find some companionship, and so Elliot meets Jimmy Vaughan - and has one of the best nights in his life. Before long Elliot faces a decision about sharing his life: Does he choose McLean, the best friend he's never met, or Jimmy, the man who thrills him beyond belief.

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248 pages eBook $5.99 ISBN: 978-0-9795048-5-3

Overseer Nicolas Wells had been coming to Mount Desert Island for ten summers to help build cottages for the rich and powerful. Despite his secrets, he had grown comfortable in the peaceful little island town, getting to know its inhabitants and even to consider some of them friends. The eleventh year, however, he arrived to startling news: the island’s peace had been shattered by a murder. At the request of the sheriff, Shawn Parnell, Nicolas agreed to hire Philip Hall, the local blacksmith and the probable next victim, in the hope that the secure construction site would be safer than his house in the village. He never expected the decision to lead to danger. Or to love.

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To Love a Cowboy by Rhianne Aile Paperback $11.99 ISBN: 978-0-9795048-8-4

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Twisted Brand by Clare London Paperback $14.99 ISBN: 978-0-9817372-6-3

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Sequel to The Gold Warrior No longer a revered Gold Warrior, Maen is a disgraced soldier, held in suspicion despite his role in winning the Queenship of Aza City for his Mistress, Seleste. Returned alive from his captivity by the rebel Exiles, his reward was to be cast out from his position, his brave loyalty dismissed. He remains an unwilling thrall to the new Queen while his heart mourns the memory of Dax, the young Bronzeman he helped escape from a sentence of death. When Maen is put under the guard of the arrogant Gold Warrior Zander and given the thankless task of preparing a Royal History, they both join up with the lively scribe Kiel. The youngster's bold curiosity initiates a chain of events that will change their world and that of the City forever. Maen's own discoveries will cast a new and shocking light on the Royal history and stir revolution in both citizens and rebels. And he will finally return to the Exile camp to face the one thing that can make him choose desire over duty.

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